Bearclaw Valley a reckonin' is comin'

@Cole

his black paws crunched softly against the snow as he followed cole's scent. he’d seen something worth the other man’s attention, and though he could’ve handled it himself, where was the fun in that?

as he rounded a bend near the edge of the valley, he spotted the honey-furred man resting beneath a snow-dusted pine. coyotes. east border, tvar announced with a jerk of his head. they’ve got a raccoon treed, yapping at it like they’ve nothing better to do.

his tail swayed low at his hocks. could’ve taken care of it myself, but... he shrugged, the corner of his mouth tugging upward. figured you’d enjoy ruining their fun. hows about round two? or you still recovering?

Cole glanced up from his spot beneath the pine, amber eyes narrowing briefly as he listened. He rose to his paws, shaking off the dusting of snow that had settled over his fur.

Let's go, he said simply, his tone steady, leaving no room for hesitation. His gaze lingered on Tvar for a moment before he began moving, his stride purposeful as he headed toward the east border.

tvar followed without a word, a faint smirk tugging at the edges of his lips as cole took the lead.

the east border wasn’t far, and the closer they got, the clearer the distant yapping of coyotes became, grating against the otherwise serene quiet of the morning.

figured you’d be eager, tvar murmured as he glanced sideways at cole. he motioned with a tilt of his head—a cluster of mangy forms circling beneath a tree, their attention fixed upward.

there they are, he said, his voice dropping to a near growl. what’s the plan? want me to circle around, or you feel like charging in head-on?

The faintest curl of his lip revealed teeth already anticipating the taste of blood. Something darker stirred within him, a rugged edge surfacing as he answered, voice low and guttural.

Head on, he growled, not sparing a glance at Tvar. Strategy didn’t matter—only the kill did.

Without hesitation, he moved forward, his posture daring, every muscle coiled with purpose. The blood of the hunt called to him, and today, he would answer.

while cole charged in, tvar's steps carried him closer, his gaze narrowing as he assessed the coyotes. they were agitated, distracted, the raccoon above them keeping their focus skyward.

an opportunity, if used correctly.

tvar’s lip curled faintly as his tail lashed once. he hung back just enough to keep himself in cole’s periphery, letting the other wolf take the charge while preparing to flank if needed. whatever the outcome, he’d ensure none of the scavengers left unscathed.

when cole struck, tvar only then rushed in. snatching the first coyote to try and scatter, teeth catching it by the scruff. immediately it thrashed, flopping like a fish in his jaws and he drags the scav through the snow, crunching harder on his neck.

dropping it only when he hears a satisfying snap of bone.

Surging forward, Cole's focus narrowing on one of the coyotes too slow to react to his charge. The thrill of the hunt burned in his chest, propelling him faster as the scavenger turned too late, its yelp of surprise cut short when his jaws clamped down.

The crunch of bone between his teeth sent a wave of satisfaction through him, primal and consuming. He shook the coyote violently, the weight of it thrashing in his grip, before slamming it to the ground. The fight left the creature quickly, and Cole released it only after the sharp crack of its spine echoed in his ears.

He glanced toward Tvar briefly, catching sight of the other wolf finishing his own kill. The sight only spurred him on, a deep growl rumbling in his throat as he turned toward another coyote, teeth bared and ready for more.

with a short, sharp bark, he surged forward again, cutting off another coyote’s retreat. it lunged at him in desperation, its teeth snapping inches from his muzzle, but tvar was quicker.

his fangs sank into its shoulder, and the creature screeched, its struggles weakening as he drove it to the ground. the snow beneath them was painted crimson, and when the scavenger stilled, tvar straightened, blood staining the dark fur around his mouth.

With a feral intensity he charged toward another coyote, its yelping protests silenced as his jaws closed around its throat. The creature twisted and thrashed, claws raking at his chest, but he held firm, the coppery taste of blood flooding his mouth.

With a powerful shake, he slammed the coyote into the snow, a sickening crack marking the end of its struggle. He released it, chest heaving, his pale fur now streaked and matted with crimson, the stark contrast painting a grim picture against the frost.

He looked toward Tvar, blood dripping from his muzzle as his gaze flicked to the remaining scavengers. There was no need for words—not at this moment.

tvar’s ears flicked at the sound of the coyote’s final crack beneath cole’s iron grip. he shifted his weight, muscles coiled as he locked onto the scattering remnants of the pack.

he lunged toward another. the others scattering, fleeing past the border and into the surrounding brush.

his jaws closed around the scruff of its neck, and the creature let out a shriek that was cut short as tvar wrenched it backward. the momentum sent both tumbling briefly, but tvar was relentless, his fangs sinking deeper until its struggles ceased.

he spat it out onto the snow with a grimace, rising to his full height, his sides heaving as he caught his breath.

fucking scavs.

Eyesswept over the lifeless coyotes, a grim satisfaction settling over him. He stepped forward, his paw crunching the bloodied snow, and spat onto one of the corpses, the disdain clear in his expression.

Damn scavengers, he muttered, his voice low and rough, echoing Tvar’s sentiment.

He straightened, rolling his shoulders as his gaze turned toward the border. They'll never learn. he added, his tone cold, before giving Tvar a brief nod. Without another word, he turned, stepping away from the grim scene, leaving the bloody snow and broken bodies behind.

tvar’s gaze lingered on the lifeless forms scattered across the bloodied snow, a fleeting grimace crossing his features before it faded into something more stoic. he shook his pelt free of crimson streaks, though the metallic tang of blood clung to him still.

a faint huff escaped his nostrils as he stepped back.

"gonna catch up with towhee, see ya around old man." he said to the brute, and with that, he turned, padding off through the snow.