Dragoncrest Cliffs There's gonna be a party when the wolf comes home

On the inland side of the pack, just along the borders, was a stand of lodgepole spruce that Chacal had once scouted as an area preferred by spruce grouse. She was headed in that direction- but halted when she reached the bit of open prairie that the stand of trees bordered. It was early morning, a good time for hunting birds- and while she had intended to hunt spruce grouse, something else came into her line of view. 

As soon as she spotted them- and they weren't easy to see- she froze. Ptarmigan, all dressed in their white, wintery feathers, pecked and scratched about the shrubby area looking for food. A potential appetizer, she thought- and how lucky she'd be if she could score both a ptarmigan and a spruce grouse in one day. Slowly, she began to make her way toward then, one careful pawstep at a time, inching forward like a stick insect to try and close the gap between them.

While Mireille was out hunting with the Rivenwood jerks, Sobo remained at home, feeling more lonesome by the day without his favourite sister there. No amount of it could make him seek her out and beg to participate with them. He would sooner never see Druid and her ilk again. That didn't change how terribly left out he felt, and there was only so much tussling he could handle from his brother when he was feeling the way he did. Sobo peeled away from Loko in the early morning and set a course across the cliffs.

He meant to cut across the field and head out to the borders, where he would stare plaintively in the direction Mireille had gone, but he stopped in his tracks when he spotted an unfamiliar wolf crouched in the grass. She moved with a calculated patience that he wasn't sure he could mimic no matter how he tried. He couldn't even see what she was stalking, so inexperienced were his tracker's eyes.

His mamans had described every older sibling to him after Reyes. He knew this must be Chacal who had recently returned. Knowing who she was did not stop the galloping of his shy heart or the way his tongue felt heavy in his mouth at the thought of speaking to her. No matter how many times he met new wolves, it never got easier, family or not. There was also no way he would go unnoticed thanks to his standing there and staring like a dimwit for so long. As if remembering himself, Sobo dropped to the ground, half hopeful that she hadn't seen him at all.

Chacal did not tear her gaze from the ptarmigan when a tawny figure came into her peripheral vision. It seemed that they had noticed her stalking pose, and had stopped where they were- and she didn't chance a glance just yet, as she kept her gaze trained on the ptarmigan that continued to peck around in the snow. She silently thanked what she assumed was one of her packmated for being so steady and courteous. She crept forward step by step-

And in a final rush she ambushed the flock of birds which rose into the air in a flurry of white feathers and snow. The golden-tipped dart shot up after them and keen teeth snatched one by the wing and dragged it back to the ground. The others would fly off into the distance, but their flock would be short one bird. 

She quickly put the bird out of its suffering, and then lifted her head to properly gaze toward the wolf who'd been so patient. She shook her head in surprise. He'd planted himself on the ground, but he was unmistakeably her brother; and with a smile, the saw in him both the features of their Maman and the flashy, red tail that Njord had likely given him. 

She thumped her tail against the ground and invitingly gestured for him to come and join her, as she began to pluck the white plumage from the ptarmigan.

Sobo flinched and sank back when the flock burst from cover and rose in an undulating wave. He squinted at them as they flew past, marveling at their ability to be so invisible on the ground. He had not seen a thing and would have stepped into the middle of the flock before having a heart attack when they revealed themselves.

Since he was watching the birds, he missed Chacal's takedown. When he looked back, there was blood on the wind and loose feathers dancing in the breeze. The boy canted his head, wondering how she managed to catch such a quick creature. He had only a passing interest in hunting apart from what was necessary as a wolf, but if she could catch something so small and swift, perhaps he could learn to do it, too.

Asking was the hard part. Chacal was family, but she was stranger, too. Sobo crept closer at her signal with a low, submissive wag of his tail, but it seemed impossible to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. His past experiences coloured his future expectations. She dipped her head to pluck feathers from the bird, and all he could do was stare wide-eyed and awestruck.

He seemed somewhat cautious of her, though perhaps he was trying to be polite. She knew her return likely unsettled the litter this year, to have their childhood interrupted by the return of an older sibling they'd probably only heard about. But she hoped her reputation might have preceeded her, and that they might accept her back into the fold. 

He didn't speak up, but Chacal wouldn't press him to. She was hesitant to speak at the best of times as well, unless in the company of those who knew already that she relied on melody to ease her struggling with forming words. 

She'd become quiet adept at plucking the feathers from birds given how often she hunted them, so she was able to strip it down to mostly bare skin when she stood, the naked bird dangling from her mouth. With a jut of her jaw, she dipped down into a playbow. She uttered a soft growl, and flicked her muzzle again in attempt to entice her brother to try and tug the bird from her grasp.

It was incredible for him to watch Chacal's skill at work. First, to catch the birds at all, and then to deftly pluck the feathers from it like it was nothing at all. Soon there was a swirling pile of feathers on the ground and she was hoisting a mostly naked bird up. Sobo assumed she would leave then. It wasn't like he had said anything at all the entire time on account of his nerves-tied tongue and he reckoned it must be getting pretty awkward.

Chacal proved more interesting still. Sobo instinctively flinched when she swung the bird in his direction before realizing she was only dangling it out for him to grab. He fidgeted for a second, torn between engaging because she obviously wanted him to and feeling like she was only doing it out of a sense of obligation to the little brother who couldn't take a hint and piss off already.

The former won out largely on account of his recent feelings of isolation. Sobo lurched for the bird and grabbed it with cautious jaws. Then he splayed his feet out and bit down hard before giving it a shake he hoped would wrest it from her jaws.

The half-siblings eyed one another, and Chacal's jaw began to chatter with excitement as Sobo drew close. She held the bird out, craning her neck forward to invite him in. As soon as she felt him begin to tug, she pulled backwards, and felt the tension and strength of her brother's pull against hers. It felt nice to play again. 

She clenched her jaw when he shook the bird, and she chuckled, a slightly stifled sound given the fact her mouth was full. Hoping to catch him by surprise, she took a sudden step toward him to loosen up the  strain on the bird, before she whipped her own head from side to side and the hauled backwards promptly, sinking her weight into her hindquarters to see if she could pull him forward a couple inches.

She was stronger than he expected. That, or Sobo was weaker than Chacal expected. Probably some combination of the two. He was growing to be a big wolf, stocky and broad in the shoulder, but bigger wasn’t always better. He was a gentle soul, if a grumpy and stubborn one at times. Even playing like this made him worry that he might hurt her.

Chacal was Erzulie and Rosalyn rolled into one: grace and resilience both, and stronger by far than he was in spirit as well. She feigned forward and then hauled back and he was surprised to find himself lurching forward. She played with Loko’s ferocity. Sobo never won against his brother unless Loko let him, and that was seldom.

Sobo growled softly around the bird, a quiet but playful sound, and readjusted his grip before tugging back with what strength he did have in his shoulders and neck. It wasn’t much, not nearly as much as his figure would suggest.

She took pleasure in gaining a pace from him but it appeased her heart even more to hear him growl playfully. Having grown up alongside a littermate who had been very rough-and-tumble, all Chacal needed for encouragement was just a bit of consent before she would fling herself fully, and without any sort of grace, into a game. 

He growled- that meant game on!

There was no malice in her voice, but she drew in a breath and snarled back at him, mischief dancing in her eyes as she watched to see how he might react to having their play escalate. He wasn't a puppy that she had to be gentle with- her brother was old enough now that she wouldn't have to hold back. 

She clenched her jaws to keep her hold on the bird, and felt sinew and bone crackle between her teeth. She wasn't sure if the bird would hold for very long, but she'd be damned if she'd let go! She began to tug with short jerks of her neck, scrabbling with her paws as she tried to get better footing and keep herself from sliding forward, but the footing wasn't exactly ideal- she struggled to hang on to what she had, while realizing at the same time that her paws were beginning to slip bit by bit.

Hope you don't mind me fading here, trying to clean up my threads!

Chacal surprised Sobo further, changing up her strategy to repeated, rhythmic jerks of her neck. Each comes on the tail end of the first, rendering it impossible for him to dig his heels into the wet ground and recover. He slid forward with each tug.

It occurred to him, when he was moments from losing his balance, that if he leaned far into one of her tugs, it would compromise hers enough to give him a brief advantage. Before he could put this plan into motion, he felt something pop in the carcass moments before the sound of flesh tearing, and then it was he who reeled backward with half of the mangled bird in his jaws.

Sobo was stunned for a second, then chuckled heartily and jumped to his paws. He slapped the ground audibly and waved his red tail high in the air, giving Chacal a challenging side eye moments before he turned and bolted, leading her on a merry chase across the territory to recover the stolen half.