Arrow Lake Goodnight to all of you, wherever you are

Setting: Night — 22:00
Weather: 67F — Clear skies, misty.
Location: Eastern point of Arrow Lake on the borders of Wapun Meadow.
Tags: @Merrick

Kynareth’s paws take him down to arrow lake. Padding across the pebbled bank near the rushing waterfall, moonlight casting down sickly blue beams of light upon his pelt and the surrounding landscape.

Striking golden eyes dance along the horizon, tip toeing closer to the residence  of the Ursus wolves. He briefly flips through his mental book of the most recent events with the two packs. A light shake of his head and he continues down the bank. Thoughts much too distracting for him to be truly at peace.

merrick had informed @Astara and @Evien of his wanderlust. a twist of his lips and he was off, setting out across the meadow. if any followed he did not care, nor did the bearwolf look back upon ursus until the mountains ensconced him once more.
there were few reasons to come so far, and to come here. the boy opted to pretend he had no awareness of this fact; he climbed the ledges and cursed the promontories until he came to sigh beside a lake.
he was not alone; no, as if urged by merrick's profane hatred, the tiger was there. gumline pink against the ivory of his well-honed teeth, he smirked a feral warning and stayed as he was.

The Saint isn’t aware of the other until he takes a few more steps. His head languidly swiveling each direction, taking in the scenery, but instead finding something else of much more value. The alpha of Ursus himself. Donovan stills, for a moment he wonders what will become of the two here in this moment.

Stardust orbs stare at the other, his head level with his shoulders he merely looks. Sees the sickly white gleam of teeth, his own sickening smile appears. “Darling,” he greets casually. He might just be in trouble if there are others with him. “how’ve you been?” He asks, voice smooth and curious.

He doesn’t move closer, knows that could be dangerous, but then again, he likes dangerous. The tension sparking between the two has Donovan on edge almost. Why wouldn’t he be? After all Ursus wants to kill them no?

donovan, greeting him with such ease and familiarity, as if their paths had not inexorably shifted. the bearwitch tried to shove his rage into the bone clasp of his ribcage, breath swelling his flanks; a grin tamped it down, but the hard lantern ice of his cyclop's stare sliced through the air between he and the tiger.
"better."
he would let donovan take that as he would; by and by the scarred coywolf cocked his head with the intensity of a raptor scenting blood. "and the saints?" what had losing their ally done to them? tongue thoughtfully bathing lips as he waited, merrick poised and seductive against the glint of sunlight upon water.

Donovan would have to be right fuckjng dead to not sense the anger boiling hot in the other males single eyed stare. The croak of a single word coming soon after. Better. Something Kynareth wants to laugh at. Cause same. Then the most malicious tilt of a head he’s ever seen and he’s asking him a question. Inquiring on his own pack. Another thing Donovan wants to laugh at. True they can come up with ways to trick their opponents, but with their small numbers a right out attack wouldn’t work. 

Make them cry.

Oh, I want to. He thinks, briefly going back on Leigh’s words. But when? Who knows. 

Still the Grandmaster’s smile doesn’t fade. It stays put, nice and still for his one manned audience. “Could be better.” He offers to the man casually — almost a joke of his last reply.

The brindle dares to move in closer. His lust for the dangerous a well mown thing by now. He just can’t resist it. “You wanna talk about it? Perhaps we can strike up a little deal. Or has that beautiful blackbird already made up your mind?” Comes his snake like reply.

Then his eyes brighten dangerously. “Or if it’s more your style we can fight about it. Just us two. Alpha to alpha.” He hums those last words with a sultry grit. “Oh, baby, you know I like it when your rough on me, yes?” Comes his next flirty sentence, a blatant lust written all through his voice. Though his words and tone are suggestive he adds a playful, perhaps even teasing lilt to it.

the tiger lashed back toward merrick not with deeds but that honeyed razor-edge of voice steeped in lust. he knew it well, and steeled himself against the implication of it even as the other drew near.
the invitation for a fight, or perhaps another harsh coupling in the flat autumn dust beginning to cool around the lake. merrick flicked his lips with a quick lick. he refused to be baited; he knew the words that had been shared upon the border, he knew what had occurred, and the toothset jaws parted again.
"hand nyra to her, and we will talk about your little deal." the suggestion to spar ignored, carefully settled away out of sight but not mind. why was donovan here, alone? where was his more eloquent guard, or the bevy of wolves surely he too was fucking, gathered around him as they had been in the meadow. ground held, merrick warned the tiger to come no closer with a hotfire blink of his remaining eye.

Roll here! Sorry you know I had to do it to em. :’<
If you have a question with the roll rules pls feel free to ask!

Kynareth’s smile curled at the edges, golden hues flick to the others mouth, catching the liking movement. He dares to take another step forward, but stays stone still when he gets there. “Darling you know I can’t do that? What kind of leader would I be if I gave up a member of my pack to be killed by you? Not good, not good at all.” He hums deeply, almost eerily. Yet this type of behavior is moderately normal from his usual. Or from what Merrick’s seen at least.

The desire to tear the life from his throat grasps him violently, get revenge on his pack. Yet he doesn’t want to kill Merrick, rather he likes him. He does want to kill his blackbird though. No killing Merrick isn’t fun, fucking is fun. Yet it doesn’t seem Merrick is too interested in that at the moment. A fight then, Donovan will duel him. Not to kill, but assert dominance perhaps.

“Merrick, do you know how bad I want you?” He asks slightly, manic smile still in place. “We could be quite the team. Raising hell together.” His voice deep, smooth, all the while his sun-like orbs dance on Merrick’s form. “And I hope we can still have that. Even after this—“ His words are slow, just like his previous ones, except he ends it with teeth. 

Already too close for comfort, but also far enough for it to be obvious he’s attacking, he goes all in. Muscles bunching impressively beneath his coat as he’s lunging viciously towards the other. Golden eyes vibrant with that certain heat — lust for the bear wolf. Even as he comes in with an attempt to rip his throat out. Maw open, showing dangerous fangs, he will go for the side of Merrick’s throat, dipping closer to his jawline.

yeah bc i literally have no idea how to roll the tabletop dice in the forum bc boomer, smh, i rolled in discord

defense: 7 + 2 (merc spec) = 9
offense (fleeing): 7 + 2 (merc spec) = 9

merrick was beyond hearing — some feralbound part of him had expected donovan's swift betrayal following the sultry trill of his throat. he refused to give nyra; he refused to give ursus the justice that was well demande —
my son!
a roll of heavy muscle beneath the striped pelt, the weighted jaws parting for him, cutting toward throat —
inhale exhale inhale exhale in-some lashing wellspring of hatred in merrick forcing a tearing roar of "NO!" from his vocals; at the moment before last, he ducked his muzzle to take the viselike snap. donovan's fangs sliced his lips therein to bloodied ribbons, and as their teeth clacked, he felt a molar dislodge, thud onto his tongue, swept out of his shouting mouth by a deluge of dark red.
another set of scars; merrick tore away. the tiger could well kill him here, and though his flesh ached for the fight before his life, the visions of his blackbird and his stone-son and his red-girl floated hotly before his eyes.
no no no no no
whirling, clawing into the lakebank and lunging away from donovan, spitting crimson into the water and laughing laughing laughing laughing, limbs churning numbly as merrick made to tear into the forest that carpeted the side of the mountain, down into its darkness and beyond to the flatland. if donovan wanted to kill him, he would shed the bearwolf's blood in ursus' sight.

WARNING! A lot of cursing and horrible language. Caps alert too lol.

A lunge, the gnashing of teeth, that sweet crimson spewing from the Bear-wolf’s face, splattering on his own. He can taste his blood and he wants to drink it all up. Drain him of his life force and rip him to shreds just like Ursus did him and Derg. Betrayal. He wants revenge. Oh— does he want it. 

So he takes it. Snapping out at Merrick as he pulls away. He’s on him fast, but not fast enough. He thought if anyone would love a fight alpha to alpha it’s Merrick, yet here he is running away. Kynareth’s wildly confused. Red hot, seething anger rattles his chaotic mind, causes his muscles to clench up and tremble in unadulterated rage. Merrick is running, he won’t be able to catch him and he sure as hell won’t be following. 

So he lunged again, teeth snapping viciously, spittle flying, and hawkish gold orbs wild with the desire for blood — for revenge. And the bastard has the audacity to fucking laugh? It makes him release a gurgling laugh of his own. Manic in its own sound. Stopping once he knows he won’t catch him, skidding to a halt in the grass. 

“YOU’RE A FUCKING COWARD, MERRICK! COME BACK AND FACE ME LIKE A FUCKING MAN!” He roars back to the pitch black coywolf. It leaves no room for anyone to guess just how pissed off he is. “GO THEN, RUN BACK TO YOUR PACK!” He growls. His voice turning venomously teasing. “YOU DONT STAND A FUCKING CHANCE AGAINST ME ON YOUR OWN AND YOU KNOW IT! I WILL  SLAUGHTER YOU AND YOUR PATHETIC FAMILY — BITCH FIRST, PUPS NEXT!” His breathing is heavy, lips crinkled up into a horrid baring of dangerous, blood stained fangs. 

Chest raising and falling rapidly in his rage filled state, he finally begins to calm as Merrick runs off into the distance. Fierce eyes never leaving his form as he does so, crawling back to his pathetic pack. He finally begins calming down after a few minutes of statue like stillness. Shaking his head, brows furiously furrowed, he begins padding back to his canyon. 

He will get his revenge.

donovan's words, tearing at him,
gnashing;
merrick's sides heaved for breath, and all that remained to him was the crushing nausea in his throat.
avicus aventus her her her her her her
he marveled to know he had no shame in his flight from the lake; only the swelter of blood in his jaw from where he had lost a tooth to this, and the thrum of the tiger's screaming, violent betrayal
kill me where the meadow meets the red sand
stain ursus with all of merrick, rip the great vein in his throat and be done be done be done
until the ancient forest folded him within its arms again, the bearwitch did not stop.