Porcupine Ridge Life goes on

@Capriccio , @Kesan

Smoke curled in his fur, the scent of burnt ichor and smoldering flesh. There was no fire here, the air to cold and to humid in its winter state. The land where he had come from was now a raized one, full now of crisp corpses and pulsating coals. A smile tugged at his lips at the memory. Serves them right. From there his tracks were straight, purposeful and heavy on the earth. But woe to those who followed them back to the beginning. 


Wide paws with feathered wrists flicked and pressed relentlessly into the soft dustbowl of the barren wedge of land. Noir hued eyes glanced off the lip of the rise, tracing its harsh curve to the entrance. Bitter annoyance tugged his frame into a more stocky stance, wings flickering in the wind. His head turned back and forth like a shark through the water, watching for movement even as his ears trained behind him. One who made enemies could never focus on moving only forward, lest they be dragged backwards. The intensity of his stare was muted by the shadows of wispy clouds overhead, rolling in between shadows and light.


 It was around midday, but traveling through the night had loosened his muscles to the point of weariness. Sluggish movements not failing to be as graceful and fluid as a jungle cat. Kierans' nose twitched in the midst of the barren scape, making him suddenly cease any further motions. From an outside perspective, it may have been a lurch or a jolt, as if he had just made a monumental discovery or inward thought. 


In reality it was the scent, stale but far more fresh than anything he had found lately. Roach-black eyes narrowed as they dipped closer to the ground, breath stirring small clouds of dust and debris. With a breathy sigh, he backed away from the border, careful not to overstep the boundary line that has been marked.  Eyes roved over the landscape,  searching for a place to rest his weary bones.  He sat beside the only significant land marker to him at least , a large, seemingly dead tree. It was imposing and striking, but it appealed to him in sort of quiet way. 


He debated howling to them as a sort, but then decided he was better off taking a break before he did so. He needed some rest. Besides, maybe he would meet someone here, someone even more interesting than himself. Shrugging as if in silent conversation to himself, Kieran lay, curling a paw under his chest as he allowed the cool air to rest on the silt river along his spine.

For once, Farstep was on the borders without intending to patrol them. He was in pursuit of a snowshoe hare, one with a lame leg, that was headed for the open valley that their territory overlooked. With its injured limb, the hare wasn't able to remain ahead of him, and soon enough the tawny wolf was gaining ground as its stamina flagged. Ever the more aroused with the impending success of the hunt, the Gamma made small noises in his throat with every impact of his feet on the slick ground, somewhere between an excited cough and a full-on bark.

He fell upon the rabbit and tumbled, managing to lock his jaws around the back of its neck. The sounds it made were horrendous and sure to draw attention, but just as quickly as it screamed, it was silenced by a vicious shake of his head as he regained his footing. Only when he set down the slain hare did Farstep realize how close to the borders he really was, and only then did his eyes, no longer sharply focused on a moving target, rise to spot an ashy figure quite close to their land. As far as he could tell, the resting male had not crossed the borders, so he drew himself in Keiran's direction mainly out of curiosity rather than authority. From previous encounters, he assumed that the wolf resting there intended to seek acceptance into the ranks of Taggarik's pack. Farstep was interested in watching the ritual between a lone wolf and one of his leaders once more and trying to grasp what was happening in the gaps where body language and the outcome didn't correlate. He didn't know that he never would, no matter how many times he observed.

More than that, though, was the fact that Farstep, being an insatiably curious creature, liked to be involved. He liked to witness the decisions made by the pack's leaders and he liked to know what was going on at all times. So he didn't hesitate in approaching Keiran, at least until the faint scent of smoke was carried to his nostrils. Then, he instantly froze as natural animal fear shot coldly through his veins. His hackles rose from the base of his neck all the way to his tail, giving his withers a thick and almost prickly appearance. His lips pulled back from his teeth and he growled a low, frantic note that rose in intensity with alarming speed. Keiran had done nothing wrong on his own, but the scent of smoke was almost certainly coming from the wolf's body, and Farstep was blinded by what he sensed with his nose. He no longer saw just a grey-furred wolf, but firmly believed the wolf was capable of becoming fire or that the wolf was fire, and felt he was staring fiery death right in the face.

There was no way in hell he was getting any closer to Keiran—he was still well within the borders and a good distance away from the lone wolf—but he displayed a strong threat response in spite of the distance, and soon enough his snarl was that of a dangerously frightened beast without sense, loud enough that anyone who was anywhere near the scene would easily hear it.

Farstep's just playing first responder. Once a leader or leaders arrive, feel free to skip Farstep as needed to keep the thread moving, he will defer to them. Leaders have permission to powerplay his behaviour somewhat in this circumstance; I've sent you three a message about that. So long as I'm able to make another post or two before archival I'm happy. ^_^

The sound of an pursuit,  stirred him from his slumber. Ears and eyes alert, his head resting on his paws as he watched a tawny wolf gallop across the ground. Not a mere eight or so inches, was a snowshoe hare, flitting in front of the tawny beast. The wolf was gaining on the hare and before long, the wolf made his move. A half-leap,  half-tumble sort of thing that made Kieran shake his head and snugger slightly. Yet, the wolf caught the hare. As the tale-tell scream of a dying creature could be heard throughout the valley before it was silenced by the teeth of the wolf. 

It was then,  the wolf dropped the hare and scanned the horizon. It was obvious that the wolf had spotted him. And seeing as the wolf was within the pack territory, Kieran would assume that the wolf was a pack member. The wolf began to approach him at an easy lope. That is until, he hesitated in his steps. The wolf froze and assumed a dominant stance;  head held high, eyes narrowed into slits,  ears laying flat against the skull,  chest out, and his tail up. Fear shone clearly in the wolfs' features as his lips pulled back to reveal his teeth; the hackles clearly raised upon his neck,  shoulders,  and along the back. A snarl erupted from his maw. One meant to frighten and intimidate.

Kieran had no reason to fear him. Kieran knew he was outside of the borders of the pack territory. He had no reason to enter them, unless provoked to do so or unless he was invited. He was not one to back down from a challenge, when the challenge was legitimate. However,  this was no challenge.  This was a wolf who was fearful. Kieran did nothing in response to the wolfs behaviour. It would do him no good to confront the wolf. So, instead he ignored him. Or so it would seem to an observer and hopefully the wolf as well.  In truth,  it was not in his blood to ignore anything. He was an observer by nature. So,  he took in the wolf. The physical weaknesses of the tawny male. The male,  for it was a male,  that much was discovered with the aid of the gentle breeze that blew towards Kieran at that moment. 

He was tall,  perhaps even too tall.  It would make him unbalanced, if he were to receive a lower blow; say to his sternum or anything below it.   His chest was narrow.  He was lean. He probably lacked in raw strength due to his sparse muscle mass. In accordance with that, he would probably have a tendency to have more bone injuries in the event of an fight or with an injury that would occur with large game. [size=x-large]Fortunatly,  there were some plus sides to being an ectomorph. The male would have great endurance and stamina across distances.  He would be able to reach higher speeds and would have an greater advantage of increased agility and maneuverability.[/size]

Kieran was already imagining ways to kill the tawny male. It would have been easy and if the tawny male would have pressed the issue farther, Kieran would have taken the opportunity that was given to take out the male. Thankfully, he did not, as Kieran was sure this would have caused the pack to retaliate against him if, perchance he did kill the male. And he was not on to bargain with his life very often. He was a strategic planner.  He was always prepared, pitting pros and cons with the cause and effects. He would never make a decision that would hurt him or cause his untimely death. This made him seem aloof, despondent even.  He has a hard time making friends or even forming relations with anyone because if this. And to the few that do manage to gain his trust, he will stay loyal to them as long as they stay loyal to him.

You ever hear the sound they make in person? Screaming hares, I mean. It's pretty godawful. I had one for a pet and she screamed once when she got spooked and I caught her before he ran off. Scared the shit out of me lol

His pace had hastened to a foreign smell he had an immediate distrust of, a scent of a stranger laced with the acrid scent of smoke and something else he could not quite put a paw on. Then, when he he heard the shrill scream of a dying hare, mingled with the scent of his silent companion, he had stretched out his strong legs into a gallop.

His sweeping gray eyes locked on to Farstep first, who stood well within their borders, fearful and threatened. The sight of his subordinate in such a state was enough to lift the hairs on the black wolf's nape and spine as he quickly searched for the source of Farstep's unease. He spotted it: a large silver and black male, from whom the smell of smoke curiously emanated.

Taggarik's gallop waned into a bold and purposeful march. Once headed for Farstep's side, he now turned deliberately toward the stranger, with his head and a stiff tail lifted high and demanding. He strode forward, closing the distance, and left only a taillength between them. Cold suspicion was held in his steeled eyes as they sought to bore into the other's.

"What's with the smell?" His deep, gravelly voice was icy, but calm.

Despite his aggressive and dangerous display, the lone wolf did... nothing. He didn't lower his ears or tuck his tail to show any respect to the pack wolf before him, he didn't even return a display of his own. He was completely impassive. Even though Farstep's posture was one of threat rather than one of dominance, his expectation had been that Keiran would react somehow. After all, that's what wolves did. His lack of reaction told Farstep one of three things: Keiran was some kind of arrogant and believed that the rules didn't apply to him, Keiran was undecided whether to return the growl or submit, or Keiran had no idea how to act appropriately on the borders of a pack. Coupled with the scent of smoke and the possibility that he was fire incarnate somehow, the former and latter options made him immediately unattractive as a potential pack member. With odds of two to three that the wolf didn't know how to properly behave, if Farstep had carried any authority as a leader, he would've run the ashen male off instantly.

But he didn't carry any authority as of yet and Keiran wasn't really trespassing, so he remained where he was, with his growl a constant sound piercing the relative silence of the ridge, until Taggarik arrived. Even the Alpha's presence did little to quell the Gamma's fear and unease. The burnt scent was the only thing he could really focus on, and so while his ears drifted partway to his skull as Taggarik passed, his growling didn't relent. His tail attempted a greeting wave, but it was more of a side-to-side snapping than anything else.

Taggarik did approach the lone wolf, and he did do so with absolute authority in his stance and step. Even though it wasn't directed at him, Farstep's form shrunk a little in the wake of the Alpha's dominance display, though he still remained in the background, hackles up and teeth bared, with nothing but fear in his eyes.

OOC: I have. My cat has this tendancy to catch any and all wild hares that happen to cross into my yard. It is pretty awful.

A noir figure was moving swiftly over the ground at decent gallop. Kieran would have thought the noir wolf would have stopped beside the tawny male. Alaw,  no.  The noir wolf slowed as he past the male. The gallop becoming more purposeful, more dominating. It was a bold and steady march.


Kieran stood quickly, unsure of the noir wolf coming towards him. This noir wolf was posing a threat. Kieran eyed him warily as he came closer. He decided it was senseless to attack and assumed a defensive posture. He crouched in preparation for an attack from the noir male; ears laid back flat against his skull,  head bent low to cover his throat, tail tucked between his legs. His facial expression twisting into one of ambivalence and his hackles raised instinctivly. His eyes were angry, wild, his lips curled to reveal his gums and fangs, his tongue snaking out to be pressed between his incisors. It is a display not meant to invite an attack,  but to ward one off. A low growl issued forth from his chest as a warning to the noir male. He was not looking for a fight. Not yet,  at least. Yet,  if the male incited one, he would not back down. The noir male stopped about a foot from Kieran. 

The male spoke with authority. Posing a question with ice and steel. Kieran never looked away from the males eyes as he answered. " The smell,  sir, that clings to my fur, was caused by an wildfire that happened about a day ago in Yellowstone National Park; which is were I am from. I apologize for causing you and yours strife." Kieran gives a subtle, curt nod in the tawny males direction. "I did not mean any harm.  I only wanted some rest, as I have not slept.  I have been running from the fire that destroyed my home; my family."

Kieran was honest with the male.  He had no reason to lie. His only hope was that the male would let him rest peacefully before sending him on his way.

I have a hunting dog, but he hasn't caught any hares yet. I suspect he will someday lol. But hopefully he'll just point them out for me. Just so you know, the code for making OOC text is (ooc) text (/ooc) using square brackets if you want to use it! :)

His eyes had sought the lone wolf's not to meet them, but to see them avert. His dominance had been displayed as a benign demand for the respect he was owed. Though the wolf's answer was polite and not cause for alarm itself, he had struck out before it had even been spoken. He had failed to show Farstep any consideration, and then reacted defensively, angrily when the alpha whose borders he lingered on approached him. He even stared back in Taggarik's eyes in a classic gesture of challenge.

Taggarik was reminded of the imbecile on the terrace; he had a similar catastrophic failing to understand basic body language. Unfortunately for this one, the black wolf was attempting to build a stable homestead, not a menagerie out of all the incongruous wolves that showed up at the ridge. Thus, Tagg's reaction was immediate and severe. The flesh across his muzzle buckled and pinched as his lips peeled back to reveal his teeth, a guttural snarl in accompaniment as his stance stiffened and he stepped forward.  

"You can rest elsewhere. Leave."

Thank you :)  I have role-played on Doutaini for six years or more. And it seems I have unintentionally incorperated the rules of that wolf rpg into this one. I guess, I just have their rules ingrained into my brain. Lol. I apologize for that. This will be Kierans last post. 

Respect was to be given, when and where respect was due. And since he did not know anything about the two males; not thier names, not thier ranks,  not even the name of their pack, he saw no reason to give any respect to them. He was not arrogant, far from it.  He knew the rules.  They were ingrained into his head.  He was an heir to his father's throne after all. He was forced to learn every miniscule detail about every single rule no matter how large or small. He had acted appropriately on the borders of the pack territory. He did not cross into them and stayed a respective distance from the scent markings.  He was going to let them know of his presence as soon as he had awoken from his much needed slumber. 

Kieran  had assumed the same rules applied here as they did in the South. 

He saw no issue with ignoring the tawny male. The tawny male did not announce himself to Kieran upon realizing that he was so near the borders of the pack territory nor did he ask Kieran of his business in being so close to the borders. He also saw no reason to act any differently than he had, when the noir male approached him. The wolf posed a threat to Kieran and he acted as expected in response. Perhaps,  if the noir male had stated his name, rank, and the name of the pack; Kieran would have behaved accordingly and would have proceeded to give the respect that was deserved to the noir wolf. 

 Were the rules of the North not the same as those in the South?

 Unfortunately, it seemed they were not.

 As the noir male shown clear agitation, if not blatant anger towards Kierans'defensisve posture. And it seemed as if in their eyes, Kieran was the one at fault,  when Kieran was not shown even the slightest hint of pack courtesy.

The noir male wished him gone,  so gone he would be.  His hopes of resting, shattered before him.   He lowered his head in a bow of sorts,  eyes still upon the noir male, and answered; calmly, cooly,  and collectively " As you wish,  sir."
 He was told to never turn his back on a potential threat and this male still posed a threat. So he did not turn around.  He slinked backwards keeping the noir male within his sights until he was far enough away and within the shelter of the trees that he felt safe enough to turn, tuck tail, and run at a full gallop to put distance between himself and the two males.

From his short distance away, Farstep didn't see much of what happened and his focus was on the smell of smoke anyway, but he could tell by the tension in the air that Keiran had not shown adequate submission. This didn't surprise the tawny Gamma, whom had gone unacknowledged by the lone wolf in spite of being a resident of these lands. Still, when Taggarik's form transformed into one of offense, it was relief that the drifter primarily felt, because it meant that the fire wolf would not be staying.

He remained close in the event Keiran lashed out, but the male did not such thing. He backed away and then turned to run, leaving Taggarik and Farstep to tend to their borders. He smoothed out the fur on his back as best he could, but with the smell lingering, found it was impossible to wholly lower his hackles. The fear in his eyes began to ebb away, but his manner was still uneasy as he awaited Taggarik's next silent command.

Sent you a PM :) No need to apologize at all as I said! Chels feel free to PP / fade this out :)

The black wolf expected a confrontation, but all he received was a cool bow of the wolf's head and a calm retreat. The tension in his muscles slackened with every step the wolf took backward, and disappeared entirely once he was gone. Behind him, his agouti subordinate was still uneasy.

Tagg sought to remedy that, and turned toward him, bumping his shoulder with the bridge of his nose as he drew near. He sprang back then, folding himself into a playbow, his tail and rump waving in the air. He woofed, inviting Farstep to romp with him to ease the stress.

As his Alpha turned, Farstep's lips pulled back into a wolfish grin and his ears flicked to the sides. His tail waved neutrally but there was no question of his loyalty. There would likely never come a day where Farstep would feel that Taggarik was not a superb leader. He might question all others and indeed challenge them should they prove undevoted, but Taggarik, he would likely never get such treatment from his subordinate. The dark man emanated a sort of easy authority and Farstep was happy to comply with it.

Having seen only Taggarik's more serious moments, the Gamma was not expecting an invitation to play, but the pull was so natural that he swung around instantly when Taggarik tagged him and sprang away. Farstep barely registered the play bow before he was off and running after his leading male, soon losing himself and his worries to the effortless joy of play.