Boartusk Heights For here he owns, that now and then

As the skies continued to remain clear, and the land returned slowly to a hardened, more traversable stability, Piety made swiftly for higher ground. Though typically reluctant to do any rigorous journeying in the hour of high noon, the sable gargoyle was determined to survey the land below at its most illuminated; eager to uncover any area in these mountains where his quarry might gather in droves.
 
He climbed to a ridge that overlooked the eastern valleys in Boartusk with relative ease, and he targeted the most densely-forested plateau he could see, assuming that it would be heavily populated with prey. Hungry, as always, he began his descent.
 
Though longing for his companion’s extra set of senses in this moment, Piety’s streak of independence continued without bounds. Caution gave way to no amount of fear, and it led the wolf in a dutiful march down toward the hidden woodland. It would take him half an hour or longer to reach it, but his paws ate steadily away at the miles with his juggernaut’s pace.

@Zsuzsa

Thank you for starting!

Veering a hard turn west, the Mackenzie diverged from the Great Bear Wilderness to follow the horizon. When she made her inception into Teekon Wilds, the weather was warmer than usual and her first escapade landed her on a former faux necropolis of the Nightwalkers. Although she was prone to sticking close to the shadows with overhead cover, at the same time she was gladly absolved from that strange woodland. Making a beeline across the grasslands, Zsuzsa sought her next refuge ascending the jagged shelves of this uncharted vista. At least from a lofty plateau, she could get a better lay of the land beyond the mountain range from here.
 
Hunger was a permanent state for Zsuzsa. The martens, even though the most easily accessible and abundant of smaller mammals, never satiated her fully. Finding adequate sustenance competed with her priority of travel and today, the famishment was pining strongly. She would be inclined to eat the Raven that flew as her shadow above her if it ever came close enough. Upon surveying the land temporarily from her heights, there was more plentiful land northwest. Nearby, she saw the same veiled woodland and the same promise for suitable prey within its density.
 
The way her paws danced over the earth made it seem like she traversed these heights before. Meandering down the slope, Zsuzsa didn’t realize another large, darkly cloaked figure also had the idea of gravitating toward the area until the peripheral of her silver eye caught movement a couple of yards away. Skidding to a halt, her heart skipped a beat. … Can’t be them. Couldn’t be them. Finding the nearest tusk shaped boulder she could on the face of the slope, her lithe figure ducked behind in hiding. It was likely the other wolf long since saw her matched descent and even if they didn’t, the circling of the Raven overhead was a blatant sign. She shot a steely look at the Raven, who cared less whether or not she wished attention to be drawn her way. Just her luck the Raven would act in the manner of a vulture of all times to do so.

If the wolf was indeed a part of the search party her father sent, she underestimated how well-traveled they were. Her adrenaline rose, readying herself for a potential conflict.

Nose to the ground, deep into a fading trace of swine, Piety was at first unaware that he had competition on scene. It was not often that such large details would slip through his watchful guard, but the wolf’s single-minded focus on sorting through the labyrinth of scents before him was more than a good enough opportunity to catch him unawares. As a lone wolf, not much could upend him from a good trail. Except for, perhaps, evidence of carrion: the chance at a free meal…
 
He noticed the odd raven first.
 
He assumed that its circling meant something dead or dying had caught its attention, and the oildark sentinel abruptly changed his trajectory in order to investigate. The wind did him no favors, causing Piety to give a wide girth to the jagged boulder that blocked his view. He was cautious as ever, despite his incurable curiosity, and was back several deer-leaps when he had come around enough to find what was hidden.
 
It was a wolf — regardless of his expectations — inkblack and trim, with a cutting stare of moonsilver. A female, he realized belatedly, and a hellcat based on her defensive posturing. She did not appear injured, and even if she were, times were not near hard enough for him to consider her as anything close to a meal. His tail gave an irritated lash. Why are you hiding? he simmered gruffly, raising his voice only high enough to carry across the distance.

The Raven overhead cawed in what could be its species version of laughing ridicule at the Mackenzie. Zsuzsa cursed under her breath. The second there was a window of opportunity to seize the Raven in her jaws it would relieve her of the ill omen it implied upon her. Even if a draft of the approaching male’s scent became increasingly ostensible, she already presumed the other was hot on her trail now. It could be effortless to dash away down the mountainside to evade the confrontation altogether but Zsuzsa’s paws wouldn’t move. Zsuzsa decided to stand her ground.
 
And there he was. Double, quite possibly even triple, her size. Cloaked in the finest midnight black as her own pelt, his brown eyes melded into his coat’s hue to make him seem like a walking phantom. His sheer size was impressive. Immediately Zsuzsa knew he would overcome her in strength effortlessly. Her mind was instantly in overdrive of calculating different scenarios of different vulnerable attack points if in the event she was pinned. The tender regions of the underbelly, the supple and delicate flesh of the inner thighs connecting close to the procreative organs, those could be options. Her fleet-footed claws could possibly access those areas in several rapid slashes. She was ethereal in her movements, even within struggle.
 
He didn’t smell of the Weald but leave it to them to devise tactics that could outwit her senses. She knew her lineage all too well with this. A brusque question came forth from him, irritation clear in his motions. Her black hackles bristled with her pupils slightly dilated, as if the darkness threatened to take over her steely glare. Her ears were pressed forward in a mildly aggressive manner. ”Who are you?” Zsuzsa spoke sharply, declining to answer his initial inquiry. Her gaze was fixated on him warily. There was still enough distance between them for her to react should he decide to. ”How long were you tracking me?” She demanded, imputing an instant accusation on him. The Raven had long since settled on a boulder not too far away, a silent yet interested bystander of the scenario before it.

Rather than answering his question, the bristling wraith barked out a stream of her own interrogations; Her voice nipping him sharply with tones of panic and suspicion. Immediately indignant, Piety’s eyes locked firmly upon the bewitching silver pools that stuck out against her starless coat, and his hackles began to tremble. A younger version of himself -- perhaps only by a few months -- might have been offended enough to defend his honor. But a wiser, more even-tempered obelisk stood before her now.

He snorted to express displeasure, but found no cause to further escalate the situation. She was already a hunted wolf, fearing that she had been found. Adding to that level of anxiety would bring him no honest pleasure. 

“I am called Piety Montserrat,” he replied flatly to her query. “I was not tracking you.” His emotions could be difficult to read at this distance, but his vocal exchange was unwavering, sounding equal parts honest and disinterested. “I was following the scavenger,” the goliath elaborated a beat later. He made an almost imperceptible gesture with his broad muzzle, motioning upward to indicate that he was talking about the raven.

Then, in an uncharacteristic fashion, he asked, “Are you in trouble?” In fact, the question came so far out of the blue for the mountain wolf, Piety himself wasn’t even sure why he had asked. What did it matter to him if she was or not? Would that fill his belly? Would knowing this help him or Neven in some way? Why did he care?

His stomach knotted at the unfamiliar concern he felt, and his thoughts turned to getting rid of the nagging emotion as quickly as possible.

The Raven let out a shrill caw, ruffling its wing feathers. It hobbled closer to the two where it was merely a couple of feet away. Her peripheral vision saw the Raven’s movement. This had been the closest it came in proximity to her or any other wolf for that matter. Zsuzsa wasn’t its keeper and didn’t want the responsibility of such, so she was uncertain of what this sign could mean at this moment.
 
Remaining grounded in place like the very mountain they were on, the male gruffly announced himself as Piety Montserrat. Ears flicked forward in catching the name. It didn’t sound familiar and not old-world enough to be from the Weald. No significant accent upon his tongue. Piety’s responses were vapid but had no difficulty acknowledging his approach. Her hackles still prickled and bristled, and she gave several swishes of her tail behind in an aggressive motion. On the inside, she may have been appeased by his replies, but on the outside, she had to display the same solid grounding as the mountain beneath her paws as well.
 
The Montserrat then asked if she was in trouble. Zsuzsa huffed. ”It’s been relative my whole life.” Her steel eyes remained transfixed on his own. She wouldn’t dare tell him directly if she was. ”Anyone else with you?” Zsuzsa continued with the inquiries. It was apparent he was the only one with her in the area, but since her entire body was high on her own fight or flight adrenaline, she would check off all those invisible boxes to vet him as not a threat.

The position of her winged follower was regarded with a flicker of Piety’s unilluminated gaze in its direction. He did not often spare thoughts for birds, as he found them to be an immense hassle with little to no reward, but he wondered what made this one so comfortable. The she-wolf, perhaps. His gaze slid back onto the onyx ingot, ever guarded, and verbally evasive. A reasonable – even intelligent – response to his unknowable presence, the Montserrat thought, for she had no real way of confirming that he was not a part of whatever had put her on edge in the first place, or even another danger entirely.

Still, he was quickly tiring of her fierce investigation of him, even if he felt it was deserved. No, he responded, barely refraining from another huff. I travel with a single companion, but she is not with me now, nor am I sure where she is. Piety shifted, his attentive stillness now beginning to devolve into restlessness.  

Were you heading for the plateau? he inquired, motioning vaguely over his shoulder. If she had seen what he had from higher up, then she might have also experienced the same inclination he had to explore it. I intend to hunt there, if you wish to avoid me.

The Montserrat was clearly exasperated with her hostility. Adrenaline began to lower along with the hackles of fur along her spine. Further alluding there was a companion with him that was nowhere in sight, Piety revealed he was simply passing through on means of hunting. Giving a few more moments of visibly processing the situation before her, the plane of her tail lowered, and her tense shoulders relaxed some. The flicker of what was a frenzied agitated ember in her steel eyes began to smolder into hard smoke.  ”No.” Zsuzsa replied again in a flat manner toward his question. ”Made a turn west, for better means of hospitality to wherever.” The southern lands of the Wilds offered nothing but endless plains and minimal prey. At least in these parts, there was more overhead in both foliage and overhead view of the land from high peaks.
 
At the mention of hunt, the Mackenzie felt the pit of her stomach sink further into herself. It was as if her organ comprehended and understood his prerogative of hunting. She could feel her salivary glands begin to water at the thought. ”No." She repeated again. She shook her head, blinking several times to clear the last remnants of rage bubbling up inside her. There was still a thousand-yard stare of some worry in her eyes, but it wasn’t as intense. ”It’s fine. If your companion is nowhere to be found, I can give a helping paw if needs be.” Just like that, the situation suddenly turned on itself.

Fixated on the cagey she-wolf, Piety watched the sharp spikes of her raised hackles ease back down to form neatly unbroken waves of starless fur, and he felt an unseen tension leave him as her accusatory mien subsided. He remained; his patience redoubled by her trust, though the mountaineer felt genuine surprise when she offered to join him.

It would be hard to see, but he raised his bearish unibrow at her, before shrugging. I would not turn down an extra set of teeth, he told her simply, unafraid of their temporary convergence himself. If she tried anything, after all, he was positive that he could kill her in retaliation. In his not-so-humble opinion, she potentially had more to lose from this deal than he did, thus he would respect her for having taken this risk as long as it was not a detriment to him.

In the mood for swine? he asked the nameless she-wolf, not waiting for an answer before turning to rediscover the boar trails he had left behind when intercepting her. They are all I have smelled so far in these heights. I expect more of the same in the woods below.

He stood unwavering, grounded like the Heights they stood upon. Her temporary outburst did not seem to faze him in the slightest (at least from what he gave away), so Zsuzsa would no longer linger on that subject. Two wolves always operated on much better terms than one, given their species harbored pack mentality for their very livelihood. Even she knew in this instance, he had a much better upper paw than her in physicality.
 
Swine it was for the menu of the day and she could feel her mouth begin to salivate at the thought. Her attention to the topic shifted in a business-esque affair when he mentioned the whereabouts of the boar in the area. ”Seems they linger in these altitudes for the sheer advantage of  the terrain.” Typically mountain lions traversed these parts more so than wolves, it gave boars an advantage to narrow the apex predators down to one less. ”If we chance upon one up here, I’m glad to take higher ground to ambush from above.” Being naturally lithe and having more dexterity in her paws, she could traverse the slippery slopes more fluidly. She had no qualms of hunting within the Heights or in the lower lands.