Porcupine Ridge authentic battle damage

He lead his pack home, and then separated from them. The black wolf sought the quiet and solace of one of the dense forests that populated the ridge, and there beneath a sturdy fir he laid down. There was a calmness about him now and his fur lay flat, but there remained, seated in his breast, lingering anger and frustration. But his attention was drawn away from his emotions and thoughts: he was now only just becoming aware of the wound on his shoulder.

He craned his neck around to inspect it, nosing through the blood-soaked fur around the rough-edged gashes that the other black male had torn into his skin. It ached now, each pulse of his heart causing another pulse of pain as stiffness started to settle in. Some of his packmates were hurt too, he knew. It was fortunate nothing was overly severe, but still, it made him scowl that it had happened.

Bitterly, he licked his wound.

Though she suspected that Taggarik wanted to be alone, Diane eventually couldn't help herself from seeking him out. She had limped her own way initially, tired and eager to curl into herself, but worry ate at her subconscious, pulling her in the Alpha male's direction before she even knew where she was going. Suddenly she wasn't heading for her hole-in-the-ground, but was instead traveling with her superior's distinctive trail winding beneath her, leading her deep into the Ridge's heart.

Drifting slowly in and out of the shadow of the firs, she found him lying beneath one, finally tending to a wound that had bled and staled overnight. Diane frowned, approaching him at an angle that allowed him to see her, even as he continued licking his marred shoulder. She sat down a few feet from him, much as he had the first time they had met, and she gazed at him—Aztec eyes low and concerned. She didn't say anything for a while, listening instead to the curious rasping noise his tongue made as he drew it again and again over his wound.

Then at last: "Do you still want to be alone?"

His rhythmic licking did not cease as one of his subordinates drew near, though his gray eyes did flick upward to behold Diane. He greeted her with a brief, slow wag. "You're fine," he murmured, as his attention returned to his task. His tongue slowly progressed from the wound on his shoulder to the blood trail on his foreleg and paw, gradually working it free of his fur. He stretched out his leg when he had finished, feeling the stiffness in his muscles, and the aches that had formed there.

Diane had been there when he called his pack to defend their borders. She had been there when he marched them onto Thunder Dome, and she was here now. He held her in his favor for all of that, and for all her efforts of establishing herself as a worthy pack member. Meanwhile, there were wolves that had been cast in the shadow of his grace. They would not be welcomed at his side right now; but Diane was safe.

"How's your leg?" Asked the black wolf, as his eyes fell to the wound left on her forelimb. His lips were thin, pursed, his expression telling of how he felt about what had occurred.

The sand and stone maiden drifted forward, stepping light as she favored her foreleg. She gingerly eased herself down in front of his outstretched paws, tucking all but her injured limb fully beneath her. Peering up at Taggarik, his acerbic expression caused Diane to brush away his concern with a dismissive flick of her tail. "It's fine," she understated timorously, tucking her last leg too now, and wincing slightly as the pierced muscles in her foreleg flexed to accommodate the movement. "I'm more concerned about you," she added, quietly (though earnestly) deflecting. "You.. you let your wound fester," came an equally as timid tone, and then a little harsher: "That could kill you, you know! You, you can't just be so angry you don't take care of yourself," she added sharply, only to abruptly remember who she was talking to.

Her eyes widened, a flush happening invisibly beneath furred cheeks, and she drew her muzzle away in discomposure, clearing her throat. Looking back at him, her eyes were guilty. Apologetic.

Diane was at a loss for words. She didn't understand a lot of things about herself these days, and she would be discovering her true personality for a time to come—But more than her being unable to comprehend the changes within, Diane simply couldn't fathom the pitch wolf's anger. She could feel it, simmering beneath his skin, tempered by either her presence or the passage of time. She didn't know. "The mighty Taggarik, killed by mud blood... Some legacy," she muttered—Diane's obscure way of showing how truly upset she was with him.

For a moment, he was transported to bygone years, when he was but a pup and his mother scolded him about the dangers of the world. His expression widened as Diane lectured him, his ears turning in puzzlement; not at what she was saying, but at the fact she was saying it at all. She finished with a mutter, and he snorted softly with amusement, his mouth now twitched into a faint smile as he crossed his forelegs.

"You write me off so quickly," he jested. His wound had been left unattended for a night and a morning, but it was clean now, and so far as he was aware no infection had settled in and he was not in imminent danger of being taken out by it. But he did not fault her for her concern, and was instead bemused that she fretted over him so much. "It'll take more than a scratch to knock me down, I promise."

Diane felt a sliver of relief by her Alpha's humor. But the emotion was so bare, it hardly registered with her at all. She swallowed the lump in her throat, frowning at him and he jested. "Don't you think they all say that?" she asked rhetorically, a child's pout set grimly across her muzzle. She chalked up his carelessness to the fact of his gender. Most males she had ever known were bullheaded (if only slightly) and she didn't expect him to worry about something as menial as a flesh wound. Infection could take down the most virile of wolves, and Diane felt justified in her worries, despite the embarrassment that accompanied it. 

She set her head on the ground, sighing as she forced herself to relax. For a while it seemed like she just might fall asleep, but then one gold eye rolled towards Taggarik. "I didn't want to fight," she admitted after a pregnant pause. "I-I've never done anything like that before... I don't even know why I did."

"They probably do," he agreed. His promise was more in jest than not; he knew that he could meet his end in any number of unexpected and undignified ways. If he had his choice he'd die defending his pack and his family, but take the threat down with him. But it was unlikely to happen like that.

She spoke then, of the brief battle, and his ears fanned back. She had lightened his expression but now it darkened once more. "You did it because you are pack. The pack moves as one." stated the black wolf, who was seized then by memory, and by bitterness at those who did not act as pack. "I did not want to fight either," he said as his gaze drifted to the side. His toes curled, and his nails dug into the snow. His words was hard. "I hate that it came to that, after I showed them such courtesy," he seethed.

Diane watched the darkening of Taggarik's face, fascinated and frightened by the depth his expression took and by how stormy his argent eyes had become. His entire body tensed, and there was a dark void where her leader had been moments ago. He spoke openly, putting reason behind the anger that had culminated within him, but suddenly Diane had picked up her head and she was laughing. "You're angry because your hospitality was abused?"

Her giggling subsided, the features of her face sobering to something softer. "Well I hope that doesn't stop you from being nice like that again," she smiled, inclining her muzzle to nudge his forepaw gently; the only part of him near enough to touch. "Neighbors aren't a bad thing. In fact -- well, not fact -- but I think things could have been different if we'd shared both peaks. There's plenty of land, and food sources all over... We could've been one giant pack."

A naive concept, but it was the way Diane thought. There had to be a way to take care of everyone, and not just their own. Weren't all wolves "their own"? "Besides... If you stopped showing such courtesy the, well then, you wouldn't be able to save lives anymore. Like mine..." She had never mentioned how she felt about his graciousness that day, but it clearly meant a lot to her. 

"You saved my life. I.. I wanted to die under that tree, and then you just came out of nowhere and offered me a home. I'm indebted to you, Tagg, and I can't imagine you being different from the wolf with such good faith that he would allow chances like that despite the risk..." Her demure smile turned impish. "I could've been a mass murderer for all you knew. I might still be." Her teeth glinted in the half light.

He was angry because his wolves were hurt. He was angry because he allowed it to get to that point, when he could have heeded the preferences of some of his packmates and drove them out before they established and gained more numbers. He was angry for a number of reasons, and they did extend to include anger at the fact that his respect and tolerance had been so thoroughly disregarded. But the way she put it... he could not help but lose his ire again in mirth as he chuckled with her.

He disagreed with her sentiments about neighbors, most of all the idea of a single large pack, but he was quiet and did not comment. The subject shifted to herself, and his expression softened. He had not realized how much it had meant to her that he had come and took her into his pack. "I like to trust until I am given a reason not to," he answered simply. "But if you start murdering my pack I'll squash you." It was his turn to be impish, and he stuck out his tongue, but the jest was brief.

"I'm glad you've joined us," said the black wolf. "You could rise in rank, you know."

She humored the dark wolf with a mousy squeak, her expression full of mirthful surprise. "Squash me, sir?" she echoed, a laugh hidden in her tone. "I believe you'd have to catch me first." Her eyes twinkled, and had neither wolf sustained injuries in the previous day's skirmish, the conversation might have enacted a playful challenge between them. As it stood, however, the Alpha and subordinate shared a quiet laugh before the moment passed. Smiling, Diane's aurelian eyes drifted towards the horizon thoughtfully. When Taggarik spoke again, it was to say he glad to have her as a member of the Ridge. When she turned to look at him again, he was still regarding her kindly.

Silver eyes turned speculative, and Diane was thoroughly embarrassed by what he said next. Not because he said anything particularly shameful, but because she didn't know how to respond. She began fumbling slightly in what was becoming a personally clear sign of her mental distresses. "Oh, I never—! I mean, I don't think..." She wanted to protest, to insist that she had little to no honest bearing on rank. And she certainly couldn't see herself being over anyone. Novak was beneath her in rank, and still, she couldn't imagine having to assert herself to him. In fact, if he wanted her rank, then Diane wasn't sure she wouldn't just paw it over.

"How?" she asked at last, allowing her curiosity to trump her misgivings.

He caught her off guard, and she fumbled in that endearing way of hers as he looked on fondly. But she equally caught him off guard with her question, and his brows furrowed briefly as he was drawn into thought. Perhaps his way of ranking was outdated. It held closer to traditional ways that the new ways of culture and society, and though a couple of his wolves had embraced it, the ranks had since stagnated. It was not necessarily a bad thing. Stability was comfortable, but among the ranks of subordinates there was often flux and this was normal. Or at least that is how it was in his homeland.

Now questioning the 'how' himself, he answered her with his own question. "Would you like to? I know I asked you before of your aspirations..." The black wolf's head canted curiously.

She swallowed, mostly unsure and altogether at a loss for how she should respond. It was a personal question, she presumed, thinking of it in a way a child tries to choose between two favorite dinner options without the choice of both. Because while she was perfectly content to remain where she was (the provided home and the bonus sense camaraderie she felt for her packmates was enough, she thought), there was something motivating behind the prospect of rank-ascending. This had not been possible in The Cove, but here was Taggarik, his face earnest and his eyes coolly beseeching as he asked what she wanted. She couldn't ever remember being asked something like this before—she'd never really made her own choices, having been a mere pawn in her previous kingdom.

"I don't protest the place I've been given..." she said after a prolonged silence. "I'd be grateful to be here, even if I was an Undertow." Diane blinked. "I mean a, um.. an Omega, I think you call it." And then she paused, looking down at her feet, searching for words not yet pulled. "But the longer I'm here, the more I find that I'm capable of things I've never even... imagined." She recalled the moment she had told the onyx Alpha she had never been in a fight before, and in glancing at her wounded leg, she was reminded that this was not true anymore.

"I'm starting to feel like.. like I'll never be sure of what I want exactly," the she-wolf admitted finally. "But I also believe I'll do anything I need to for this pack. Rank doesn't matter to me—it wouldn't change the sense of duty I have to you... to this place."

You can wrap this up in your next post :)

She was a humble wolf. He saw the pack as blessed to have a contributing member in her, and she saw herself as blessed to have been given the chance. She was exactly the sort of wolf Taggarik hoped to fill his ranks with. Though she had no explicit ambition to climb the ranks, he felt at ease knowing that should she find herself higher on the hierarchy, she would work for the pack and for him.

He was not sure how to answer her, and so simply smiled and was quiet for a few moments. "Like I said, I'm glad you've joined us." Then he rose to his feet, sweeping his muzzle to beckon her to his side. "Come, I'm going to walk the borders, and I'd like if you joined me."

A girlish warmth pooled through her as Taggarik reiterated his appreciation; much like when a schoolgirl receives praise from hey favorite teacher of her favorite subject. There was a feeling of smugness there too, but since Diane had never identified such a petty emotion before, she couldn't describe the feeling now. The Ridge's Alpha got to his feet then, and while she expected to be left alone, he expressed that he was keen on having her join him. "Of course," she chirped, using her three good legs to effortlessly stand before taking a meek place just behind his shoulder as they went.