Haunted Wood success is not given it is taken

He hungered, and his nose twitched to a familiar scent that laced the wind. He stole through the trees in pursuit of it as the sun crept above the horizon and darkness ebbed. He found what he sought where the canopy of the forest was broken by a fallen fir: a cluster of blueberry bushes, bathed in the first light of the day. His sleek muzzle nosed around them, finding some of the berries plump and ripe and others barely so. He cared only that they were edible, and did not pause to savor the unique sweetness as his teeth flashed among the plants. He devoured berries, sprigs and leaves all.

There was a bird flitting among the branches above him. While he fed, one ear twisted and turned to follow its movements; but he was uninterested until it began to chirp excitedly as it drew closer, and now a single dark eye turned to watch the shape as it flew directly toward him. His muzzle was still tucked among the blueberries when the bird made to alight on the bush in front of him. Its small talons barely had a chance to close around its perch when the shadow struck. The bird was skewered on a long fang as his jaws closed on it, its eyes wide with a terrible realization that came too late.

When he finished his feed he walked on, and left nothing behind him but a ravaged bush and a few gray and white feathers clinging to its tattered stems.

Wildfire felt like getting away again, though she wasn't in the mood to go very far, partially due to the oppressive heat. It was barely past the crack of dawn and already the air felt heavy, like a thick cloak wrapped over her back and fastened too tightly 'round her neck. The shade of the neighboring forest beckoned her and Wildfire picked her way down the mountain and slipped into its shadows even as the sun really began to cook the wilderness.

Not long after entering the woodland, she heard commotion and smelled a bit of blood. Curious, she prowled through the trees and eventually crossed paths with a dark, lanky stranger. She paused near the base of a towering oak, her feet carefully balanced on its exposed roots, and studied him even as she waited for him to notice her. His features were sharp, almost hungry, and she noted his mismatched eyes and elongated canines with interest.

*be's difficult*

Her scent he could not pick up, for the wind was not in his favor, but his ears were not merely sharp in their appearance, and they fanned backwards as they detected the faint sounds her paws made as the travelled toward him. He turned broad side to her and stared, his ears erected on his head with interest. She studied him, and he studied her as she perched on the roots of an oak. She was small, and her features... His eyes narrowed in careful scrutiny. No, she was not one of them. His tail twitched idly, and without a word he turned, and continued his walk.

He returned her stare and the two of them scrutinized one another for a moment. Then the stranger turned and began to walk away without ever engaging her further. Wildfire was mildly surprised by this but, more than anything, she was intrigued. Her amber eyes followed him, then her feet did the same. She maintained a short distance as she tailed him, making no effort to do so discreetly. He would be aware of her presence and that was fine. It wasn't like she was hunting him... at least, not to eat.

She shadowed the shadow, who moved in the manner of spilled ink: silent and smooth, following the lay of the land. Not a paw was laid without calculation. He thought she might bore of her pursuit quickly, and when she did not, he increased the cadence of his steps, but did not comprise on his stealth. He crested a small rise, and as soon as the line of his back slipped behind the knoll he darted through the brush, perpendicular to his previous route, intent to make an arc and reverse their roles; to get behind her.

Abruptly, the hunter became the hunted, not that she knew it. Her black quarry melted into the sea of timbers. Wildfire scrambled after him but she was too late; she lost him in the underbrush. She stood there, head turning and ears pricking for any telltale sign of him. She heard nothing but the spooky silence of the aptly named Haunted Wood. Wildfire swallowed, then gave up and turned, intending to retrace her steps.

From his concealed position he saw her hurry to chase him, but he had outmaneuvered her, and watched as she turned and backtracked. He followed astride her before he tired of role reversal and stepped out in front of her, several tail-lengths ahead. He stood facing her, with his tail brushing against his hocks as it absently swayed. "Did you want something?" he intoned, one ear cupped forward to hear her response, and the other turned to the side as some rodent foraged in the forest debris.

He appeared out of nowhere, causing Wildfire to gasp. She dug her forepaws into the warm dirt underfoot and stared at him. "Did you want something?" he asked in a silky voice. When he spoke, it made his saber-like fangs more prominent. She found herself starting at them a moment, then remembered that he'd asked her a question.

"No, not really," she replied honestly, shifting her weight. "How did your eyes get that way? And your teeth?" Was that rude to ask? Wildfire wasn't sure. She felt a slight heat creeping up her neck, as if the air's sultriness wasn't already enough.

The corner of his mouth twitched in amusement to see that he had surprised her. She appeared unsettled by him, shifting on her paws as she replied after a quiet moment of staring. "So you were following me for fun?" She was young, he doubted she had a purpose, lead by a leash of curiosity more likely. She inquired then about his eyes, his teeth... questions he had been asked before. That she was but a pup earned her a reply, for he was accustomed to ignoring these inquiries by now. "They were always this way."

She shrugged a shoulder at his question, mostly because she didn't have any particular reason. She'd just done it. His reply to her query earned a quizzical look from Wildfire. He'd been born that way? She didn't know why she hadn't considered that possibility. She hadn't even realized it consciously but she'd thought perhaps they were symptoms of some sort of disease or disorder.

"Well," she said, "they look kind of cool. Maybe I was following you 'cause I wanted a closer look," she thought aloud. Wildfire then said, "I'm—" Which name should she use today? "Fox." Well, that was a new one. Wait, did this make her an impostor? Well, she would run with it. "What's your name?"

So she thought she might want a closer look? Hmmm. He strode toward her so that he may humor the curiosity of youth, his steps smooth and silent as always. The corners of his mouth were lifted in a mischievous smile. He would stand muzzle to muzzle should she not not move away, so that she could behold the mismatched color of his dark eyes, and better glimpse the long fangs that, combined, lent him his baleful appearance. "Close enough, little Fox?" he said silkily, sliding his tongue along one canine.

Although she was bolder these days than ever before, Wildfire still wasn't an entirely confident wolf. When he moved nearer, she shrunk away slightly. She didn't like a perfect stranger invading her personal space bubble, even though she'd sort of asked for it. She took a single step backward to lessen the tension in her muscles, then humored him by taking a long look at what could only be called his tusks.

"Do you not have one?" she asked patiently, eyes flicking up briefly to meet his, though she couldn't bring herself to hold his gaze longer than a few seconds. He hadn't answered her question.

She was uncomfortable, and he was entertained once more. She stepped back, and he did not push forward but instead lowered his hind quarters to the ground, with his wild-furred tail laid out to one side. She made no further comment about his peculiar features, instead insisting in her own bold way that he reciprocate on the introductions. This too, amused him. "Splinter," he answered. His unremitting stare did not leave her face, and his eyes locked to hers in the brief moment when she lifted her gaze.

He reposed on his slim black haunches and she was tempted to do the same, especially when he finally introduced himself, but Wildfire remained standing instead. Her dark tail twitched and she found herself ascertaining him suddenly. He looked older than herself, maybe even around her mother's age, though definitely not as old as her father. He was sort of peculiar in features but he looked healthy. The Outrider inside her suddenly came awake when she realized he could be a potential recruit.

"Splinter," she softly repeated his name, "what're you doing out here? Are you part of a pack?"

The shadow was not directionless. He did not wander for the sake of doing so, adrift in the flow of life as a leaf in a river's current. He had intent, he had purpose, and he was actively working toward his goals even as he appeared to be doing nought but conversing with a curious pup. He swept his tail to the other side of him. "I am not," he answered. "I am looking others of my blood. Coywolves. Have you seen any?" He doubted she had, but talk was cheap, and often yielded worthwhile information.

The instant he said he wasn't part of a pack, Wildfire began to queue up her recruiting routine. She had barely ever utilized it and she could use the practice, even if Splinter ended up declining. But before she could even wind up for the pitch, he caught her off guard by mentioning coywolves. She had never heard the term before and she looked at him blankly for a second before it clicked.

"Like, coyote and wolf? You can be both?" she asked, genuinely curious (and a little flabbergasted). She forgot entirely about attempting to lure him into the caldera's ranks.

So, his species was a novel to her. He was neutral about this. He would have preferred to hear that she knew of others, but that she did not meant little. She was but a pup, and he did not believe she had wandered far from her pack, and thus had a far diminished chance of having encountered his kind. To her question, he lips drew into a smile. "No," he informed. "There are wolves. There are coyotes. And then there are coywolves. The whole is greater than the sum of its parts."

His answer didn't make much sense to her and it was met with a puzzled silence. Even after more than a minute stretched between them, Wildfire couldn't think of what to say to that, so she thought back and decided to answer his earlier question by telling Splinter, "I've never seen a coywolf before, at least not that I know of." She shrugged a shoulder almost apologetically when a thought occurred to her and she added, "Do all coywolves have two different colored eyes and long teeth?"

His rationale was nuanced, and she was unable to understand it. In the silence that stretched between them, he pondered a means to explain; a consideration that would not have been given to many others. Just as words began to form on his tongue, she spoke. He shook his head. "My father did. He was a coywolf, but it's a family trait. Not all coywolves do." He did not speak on it, but it would please him if in the future those traits were prevalent among the species. It would speak to the success he was here to take.

In the next breath he revisted their previous subject. "Do you believe you are both your mother and father, or do you believe you are different?" 

It seemed that his exaggerated traits were not shared by all coywolves. Wildfire's lips pursed. Splinter had another question for her next, which caused her head to tilt ever so slightly to the right. She knew her parents had made her together, along with her brother and sister, of course. Raven took after Peregrine and she took after Fox, with Nightjar falling solidly somewhere in the middle.

"I look mostly like my mom. I got this from my dad, though," she said, curling a little to nip in the direction of her own long, black tail. "I know I have both of them mixed into me but I'm my own self too," she added, wondering if her wording even made sense. It sounded like such puerile logic.

The corners of his mouth lifted as she detailed what she believed herself to be, and his head dipped in a single nod when she had finished. "That is how I think about my species," he said. "That we are not both wolf and coyote, though I have both mixed into me. We are our own kind." His species took what made the coyote so successful, and blended it with the power and social cunning of a wolf. Not mere mixes, but a new predator entirely. Their advantages were many, and their weaknesses few. They were poised to conquer, and he was here to lead the charge.

"Anything else, little Fox?"

He had work to do.

Splinter made an effort to explain better and this time, it clicked in her head, as much as it could considering the entire concept was so new and foreign. "Ah," she replied vaguely, then paused and shook her head. "No." She couldn't think of anything else left to ask him. Wildfire wasn't one for small talk either, especially not when it was pretty clear the other party was ready to be on his way.

"Bye," she said simply, though she did add, "I hope you find some other coywolves." She shot Splinter a quick smile, then turned from him and began padding away along a deer trail, leaving him to surely melt into the shadows behind her.

She had no further questions and wished him well in his task to find more of his own. "Bye," he mirrored. She travelled down the deer trail, and he returned to his own path to resume his search. He sifted through the scents on the wind as he moved, and paused only to scrutinize the tracks laid in soft earth. He need not find many, nor any at all, for just as he had been created, he could create. He knew it would take time, but he had nothing but.