Ouroboros Spine Looms but the Horror of the shade,

@ Kotsiktok Pond :3

The rainfall made the territory she climbed slick and difficult, but it made no difference. She would get to her destination. This ridge she had not yet explored, and the rain would soon pass through. Her furs clung to her side but she moved onward and upward, not to be deterred by the onslaught of water droplets. She squinted through it, the sound of the rain assailing her ears. They flattened against her crown, and now and again she would pause to look around her. It would not be easy to detect a predator nearby in this... and Tonravik took great care to look around her at consistent and frequent intervals.

Five minutes passed and the rain slowed some. She lost her footing and nearly fell, but was quick to catch herself. Surely this climb, as all of her climbs, would be worth it; the steep incline tested her muscles and with the wetness, now and again she found herself sliding backward to retrace her footsteps. She moved diagonally now, nearing the top.

Kodiak relied heavily on his nose to sense the world around him, as a skilled tracker it was one of his biggest assets. But much like dry conditions were poor for scenting, so was a steady rain, which washed and scattered the scents on the ground and dampened the ones on the wind. So the brown bear was forced to give up his track on the bighorn sheep that reigned on the ridge. He would have to peg their movements at another time when he could better decipher their trails.

The rain slowed, and the curtain that obscured his vision lessened, enough that Kodiak spotted the black Alpha ascending further up the ridge some distance from him. The brown bear had restlessly pursued her, but now that he had found her and gained a spot among her ranks, his single-minded stalking had stopped. He no longer followed her every move, but made a point to mingle with her if their paths crossed, and certainly had made himself available to respond any of her calls.

He alerted her to him with a bark from where he stood, his tail waving, and then set about picking his way toward her. If only he had the dexterity and sure-footedness of goat on these rocks, he'd been there in moments, but their surfaces were slick and wolves were not built as masterful climbers, so his progress was deliberate but slow.

Over the sound of the rain cut the sound of Aklark's bark, and she turned to look toward him. In his first days here, he had not left her sight (or was it vice versa?); but now he was integrating himself with others, surely getting to know them. It pleased her to know this, and she waited for him to approach her. Only when he was at her side did the leader ascend again, watching her footing. There was nothing truly to grip on this slant of land, and surely she could wait for it to be dryer to do this... it would certainly be easier. But Tonravik saw the land plateau up ahead, and slowly but surely the rain was letting up.

Tonravik was sure the climb would let her see something of real worth. Up and up the bones of Ouroboros she climbed, up until she reached the Spine it was named for, crooked and bent, stunted through natural scoliosis. The thin sheet of rain stood even still, tapping into a hollowed portion of the Peak... a pond that would be otherwise meager when it was dryer would soon come into view as they reached the top. Meager, typically; but when they came across it now, thanks to the rain, it would be large.

Kodiak reached his leader, and the two continued the ascent. He breathed quietly, drawing in her scent as he trailed behind. He was purposefully trying to detect the scent of males upon her, for he wanted to know if any coveted her the way he coveted her, if any had been making a move. But although he could smell Iqniq and several other packmates, there was no concentration of scent that would concern him. In fact, aside from Iqniq, the brown bear had not met any other males, although he was aware of them by scent. Their paths had simply not crossed.

In time, Alpha and subordinate neared the top, and the scent of water started to seep into his nose. As they crested the top, they were greeted by a sprawling pond, one that seemed out of place and yet belonged all at once. Kodiak paused to scan the area, head turning slowly, fiery eyes attentive to the details before him.

What they came upon was impressive in size. Water droplets poured into the pond as it rained... and in seconds, the rain had passed them by. The odd landmark was curious, and (presently) large. She circled it, wondering if the water simply filled a pocket of land, or if it was always there. The ridge cradled it, but also there was room to walk around it.

It appeared out of place, but there it was, a pond at the peak. The Spine held little wonders such as this here and there. Was this useful? Was this drinkable? One sniff was all it took to let her know the answer: no. The pond was likely teeming with old bacteria. A sharp look was offered to Kodiak, but Tonravik was sure he already knew as much himself. He was observant, perceptive.

If there was anything flowing into the pond, it was not immediately evident as the pair traced its perimeter, and he as he bent his head to sniff he arrived at the same conclusion as Tonravik: it was not fit to drink unless your thirst was dire. Kodiak could not grasp the concept of bacteria, but he remembered a day in his youth when he had drink from such a stale water source, and suffered for it. It was a lesson learned and not forgotten.

She looked to him, and he glanced to her. It was not drinkable, and there were no fish, unless these fish had come down with the rain. "I see no value in this, other than to know it is here," he opined with an ear twitch as his fiery eyes cast back out across the pond. At this elevation, not even frogs called the pond home. But it was a feature of the territory, and he would commit it to memory. Perhaps they could drown a trespasser here.

Tonravik nodded, agreeing with him. The water was useless. But good to have for those none the wiser to what the water could bring, given those that happened to be just that were not of the Spine. Tonravik, too, had the unglamorous experience of drinking such water; it was why she knew the off scent, strange, old... even with the addition of rainwater, there was something strange. Her nose was as keen as her mothers, who had been Tracker prior to becoming alpha.

So she moved away from him, toward the edge. This descent was one for the goats, with jutting sides acting as weak steps rather than an immediate decline. The land then fell into that, but not for a couple hundred feet. She looked beyond her land, her eyes panning toward the river and then, past it, where the Caldera lay. Of course Tonravik could not see the wolves there, just the landform itself.

She agreed, and stepped away from him and to the ledge. The brown bear's feet did not stir. He watched her, his covetous gaze tracing the outline of her figure. While her back was turned she would not be privy to his wandering eyes and so he could linger on her. His thoughts churned. Here was a queen set upon her throne, all the freedoms a wolf could want laid at her feet. Kodiak's jaw shifted. She did not possess the slender curves of a traditionally attractive female, but the power of her position made her irresistible to him, he who wanted nothing more than to have those freedoms that status afforded. The choicest of meat with which to fill his belly, and the right to breed and see that he lived on in his offspring. Everything else was second to these two wants, like the gift of a high head and tail and the command to make the decisions that would see the pack strengthened under your reign.

Kodiak flicked his tail. There was much at stake, and he had been playing a passive game. It had been over a week since he found her and the Spine. His paws had caressed much of the territory, and he met whom he considered to be the more prominent pack members. He had showed that he could hunt, defend, and follow. He had much more to demonstrate. The brown bear took a few paces forward, and daringly, under the almost certain promise of his own blood, he reached out and nipped her flank.

One ear turned backward to hear the approach of Kodiak. She had presumed he would come beside her, but instead he nipped at her flank. Tonravik swung her head to him, alert, now, and intrigued; it was only Echelon who ever was so bold with her. Tonravik had known the brown bear for some time, but not nearly so long as Echelon, who she responded to with her own brandished fangs. This she treated no differently, her gums lifted and her fangs exposed as she moved to return the favor.

Her own muzzle moved toward a shoulder, to attempt to nip the area where chest and shoulder came together, before throwing herself backward and out of reach to an immediate retaliation, ears fanning forward as a low growl was emitted. 

I like seeing how Ton reacts to things LOL.

She faced him, alerted, her lips revealing those fangs that had pierced the hides of many, and he did not flinch nor so much as shift a paw as she made to land her teeth upon him, nipping the junction of his shoulder and chest. He had anticipated her retaliation, was both prepared and receptive to her touch even if it was to draw his blood. But it did not, and this only emboldened him. Tonravik was a fortress, but perhaps she was a fortress that could be penetrated. Maybe he could find the chink in her armor, slip in to a crack in her wall.

(um... tee hee?)

The path to success was seldom a straight shot from point a to point b. It was a branched and tangled thing, and Kodiak knew this. He was not one to hinge all on one plan, and so he now attempted to navigate the other possible trails that might lead him to the place he sought. He could wait, and bet on securing a victory in a cock fight should there be more than one rooster interested in this hen (which was likely). Or, he could try to build favor, steer her preference, that she may seek him out when need gripped her.

He would have to tread carefully, less his flirtations annoy and repel her. So his response was one of invitation, not pressure. He lowered his head and tipped his muzzle to the side, crooning to her in low, eliciting growl of his own, while his lowly hung tail swayed lightly back and forth.

Same with Kodiak! I can actually see it *_____*

Her eyes remained sharp as they held him, and he was still, as though mulling his options. Tonravik was an impatient woman, but he was quick to make up his mind. His lowered head appeased her plenty, and the bear of a wolf approached him in a loose-legged strut, reaching out to nip him again, this time more rough in her delivery but certainly not hard enough to break skin. Tonravik would never make her subordinates bleed (intentionally) without the intent to kill them; there was no use in harming them, when they were all a unit meant to work together to thrive and survive.

She drifted away from him now, turning broadside toward him and lowering her own head (although her plume remained stiffly and dominantly up), as though egging him on. Her eyes were calculating and the bear of a wolf shifted her weight, her own tail waving despite the snarl on her face.

:D

Once more he held firm as she approached, retaining his lowered head and tilted muzzle and she nipped with more force than she had previously. He closed his eyes briefly against her teeth, opening them again as she turned broad side and stepped away. He regarded her curiously, tentatively as she lowered her head, never meeting her brown eyes with his of fire. Her tail was still a highly held banner behind her, but it waved.

It seemed she was challenging him, or daring him at least. Despite her snarl, he paced toward her, steady but unhurried. He quartered toward her, extending his neck, the top of his muzzle seeking to graze her side. He kept his tail low, which continued to sway. His sleek darker ears slipped back a degree, in keeping with deference to her.

Tonravik lurched forward to tag him. The movement was quick, fast; and then, she was off, away from the pond they'd discovered. A test of endurance. Something drove her to this, but what it was could not be picked at at the moment. She slid downward upon the slick decline they'd recently climbed down, and only when she found stable earth did she begin to use her legs to bring herself into a run. 

The leader would not allow herself to be tagged so easily; she ran full-speed ahead, dirt flinging as her feet gathered good purchase where they could and destroyed it some thereafter. Nature would heal itself from her heavy-weight sprint; she moved onward, and forward, the clouds above keeping her cool. 

She leapt at him, and again he stood to receive her touch, in whatever capacity. It was light, a mere tag, and then she was off. She fled from him, and for a moment he simply watched as his tail swished. Then with a short half-growl half-bark, he threw himself into a chase, broad paws devouring the earth and sliding down the embankment after her. He stumbled at the bottom, too much speed having been lent to his feet on the decline. But the brown bear was quick to recover in these moments of faltering grace, and resumed chasing.

Tonravik freed so much dirt from the ground that he had to shift course to pursue her from a line adjacent to hers, for the clumps of soil and rock stung his snout and threatened his sight. She spared nothing, running however fast she could, and Kodiak had to make full use of his stride and call upon every muscle to keep with her. Once, on a turn, he came so near that she must have felt the air shift as he made to tag her, but missed. So onward he ran.

He found himself grinning. This was invigorating.  

Tonravik, when given momentum and with nothing in her path, could reach great speeds. She was truly a runaway train in those moments; few things could stop her. Her stride was long, and she thundered onward. She could feel her subordinate there, giving chase; it was a thrill, when she felt the air shift with his movement, and she evaded him. 

The leader altered her course. It slowed her, some, giving room for Kodiak to succeed in his endeavor of tagging her, but she did not look back, and would not until the moment she felt him. Her shoulders rolled as pistons in a machine would, in a perfect rhythm.

There was something about running, and more so chasing, that sang to the primal instincts. With each length, each minute gone by that he did not catch his quarry, the brown bear grew more determined. If it were possible, he ran faster, adding his own carnage to the land as his nails dug in and tore the soil. She changed course in front of him, and he saw the slight ebb in her pace. He seized that moment with a rumble of excitement, giving that final push to close the distance. As soon as he was in reach, Kodiak landed a firm nip to her rump, flirtation hiding beneath the shroud of a simple tag that was being returned in this impromptu game.

She felt the pinch of fangs, and turned loosely, to change her direction toward Kodiak. With her course altered, she charged like an angry bear, hungry to succeed in her own hunt. Her tongue lolled from her mouth as Tonravik grew hotter (the day was still warm, but cooler than most) and she pursued Kodiak even still. The ground was slick, and in some areas it was difficult to keep her footing, but she would catch him. When she was close, she lashed out as a panther would, forelegs moving to cling to his flank to pull him to her, beneath her; she was not so sure that she would succeed in this maneuver, or that her proximity would be near enough to not narrowly miss him in her strike.

No sooner had he made contact did he spin on his heels and retreat, for that was the game, and he did not want to disappoint. But the brown bear was also playing a game of his own. He ran, and this time she chased, their powerful forms weaving between trees and breaking new trail. He looked the part of someone determinedly trying to escape being tagged, but there was subtle restraint in his sprint, and bit by bit the black bear gained on him. Soon, she was close enough that she made a move, her forelegs reaching out to grasp around his flank.

Perhaps he could have turned, or at least sprawled in a way to save himself from being pinned beneath his leader, where he may have had a chance to make another escape. But no, the brown bear went down, twisting so that he was on his back, and Tonravik upon him. And this is exactly where he wanted to be. He flashed a roguish grin at her, tail thumping the ground. Ever daring, he leaned up and brushed his tongue against her mouth, breathing a husky "hello".  

Tonravik's tail waved when she felt his tongue press against her, thinking it a move to lick her chin. Tonravik herself rumbled deeply, more than pleased and appeased by the gesture. She stepped off of him promptly, so he could rise. That he had let her catch him she was unaware of; Tonravik only thought that she had won in this game of tag, and panted heavily from the exertion it took to run in the warming noon. She headed toward a cover of trees, flopped down into the loamy, wet grass (cooling), and let loose a yawn that could rival a lions.

Nap time. She rubbed her face in the earth, and when comfortable, Tonravik simply closed her eyes and listened for Kodiak, falling into a light doze in the process. She was quite a light sleeper, and somehow seemed alert even in her vulnerable position.

She was a simple creature and seemed not to catch his intentions, but it bothered him not. She rose from him, and sought the cool comfort of the shade. He propped himself up on his forelegs to watch her for a few moments, until she had settled and closed her eyes. Then, the brown bear rose himself, and padded near to his leader, where he flopped down on his side. He too, soon fell into a light doze. Like Tonravik, he was a vigilant sort, and even as he napped his ears flicked and twisted to every sound around them.