Stavanger Bay This night ain't for the faint of heart

*whistles*

They were official, which meant it was time.  These next few days would be the forming moments, and she didn't intend to spend them sitting back and letting things fall as they would.  She knew how things would go that way.

She wasn't about to let that play out.

So she sought her, ears forward and head high, set on the course no matter how the axe fell when it was over.  Best case scenario, she would reside in the role she felt she deserved.  Worst case, the captain booted her for the insult to his blood and she was back on the search.  Her own estimation was high enough that she didn't even consider death; no way that was happening.

She didn't much like the idea of starting new, but she liked it better than spending years under the heel of a rival who she refused to acknowledge as higher.  She had the years, the experience, and the will.  

Time for she and @Sandpiper to have a little girl talk.

menny excite, meess stenderds

the last few days had gone smoothly for the cairn girl -- for once. following her abrupt ass-kicking courtesy of arrille, the girl was in a surprisingly good place, if not still a little sore from the ordeal. the crew at last had become tight-knit enough for her to believe their claim on stavanger would be successful, and while she had no love for some of those on deck, she at least appreciated their efforts to make the bay their new home.

she had been foraging along the exposed rocks when she saw rosalyn approach. the wolf looked intent, as if she were committed to some mission. sandpiper smirked as she watched rosalyn drift along the shore, assuming smokestep had put her to some task to test her mettle. her strides were ardent, her gaze searching -- unbeknownst to sandpiper was the fact rosalyn was scouting for her.

it was no secret there was little love between the two women. sandpiper fixed her with a frigid gaze but said nothing, assuming rosalyn would eventually leave her presence on the impetus of whatever clandestine objective held her attention presently.

She figured she would find her along the beach, and find her she did.  Once she spotted her, she had a fleeting thought; leave now and be done with it.  But she couldn't.  It wasn't entirely personal; her opinion of Sandpiper had shifted slightly when she realized the girl had some code to her; she hadn't run to Smokestep about their slight feud.  Likely that was more restraint than Rosalyn would have shown a couple years ago.  But she wouldn't be low man on the totem pole again, submitting to a wolf she did not deem as qualified.  This wasn't going to be another Saltwinter.

She changed course, heading directly for the Cairne girl and, as she neared, shifting her posture in a way that would likely be unmistakable as she approached.  Head up, tail high.  She kept her eyes on Sandpiper's as well, with a look that was plain.

Would she agree to drop? Or were they doing this?

rather than drift right past sandpiper, rosalyn seemed to take notice of her and head straight for her. sandpiper's ears cupped forward in interest, her angry little eyes narrowing in suspicion. in the back of her mind a thought stirred; an insecure one -- but she pushed it aside.

surely, rosalyn was approaching her now to tell her of some news, or inform her of something.

except halfway to her, her posture changed.

no, that couldn't be right.

but it was -- plain as day, rosalyn had gone from slithering eel to rising snake -- an unmistakable challenge in her demeanor.

sandpiper met the fueled intensity of her rival's gaze. the hackles along her back rose in sharp ridges as she recognized the intent behind the she-wolf's steps. no.

she  placed her paw down firmly and took steps towards her adversary that transferred into a lope, her tail held overhead in ropy swings and her ears pressed confidently -- assertively -- forward. with each stride her tail flounced authoritatively behind her, and her neck stiffened as she carried her head higher with each step until her canter was nearly upright and broken. despite the pain in her scruff she pressed on and ignored it, fueled by outrage that rosalyn had the chutzpah to challenge her.

she did not slow down, nor did she falter. she looked the she-wolf clear in the eyes and came at her challenger with fangs bared and ready.

It had been Rosalyn's intention to take note of Sandpiper's reaction and, if she attempted to raise her posture back, inform the pack.  In her opinion, rank challenges were only valid when they were done with the pack present, and only cowards would subvert with no crew to back the claim.  Because Rosalyn knew it wasn't her call to make alone; if the crew saw in Sandpiper a leader (a fact she seriously doubted), her claim held no ground.  And if Smokestep failed to acknowledge it, well.... things could get complicated.  Rosalyn had a very love hate relationship with complicated.

But instead, Sandpiper kept coming, her mouth pulling back to reveal teeth that were obviously ready to back her challenge.  Well shit, guess they were doing this here and now then.  A rare prickle of anxiety ran down the Rivaini's spine as she raised her muzzle and gave a quick call; no summons, no plea, just informative.  She was staking her claim, and she hoped @Smokestep would acknowledge it.  Then she bristled, her own lips curling up as she locked eyes with Sandpiper.

She closed the last stride herself and ducked sideways, lashing out in a shoulder thrust that she hoped would throw Sandpiper off balance.  She wanted to end this fast and with as little bloodshed as possible.  Their captain would be more forgiving, she assumed, if she didn't damage his sister.  But if it came down to it, she would do what she needed.  These were the laws she lived by, and if this crew didn't intend to abide by them, perhaps it wasn't the place for her after all.

Her tail swished, her eyes intent on the weird looking white bird. Bowing down, she wiggled her back end, a spark of determination in them. She lunged, yet only caught the bird by the leg, and closed her eyes as it pecked at her eyes and head, trying to get away. Scowling, she shook it and was about to sling it against stone when she heard a call. Rosalyn? She letting the bird go and cursed at it as it flew away and yelled. I didn't want your skinny ass anyway!
Trotting, legs were a blur as her slim body shot across the snow, curiousity pushing her faster. Coming over a rise, her eyes went wide as she saw them facing off. Her head tilted, brows furrowed for a moment. Raising her paw, she hesitated for only a second before trotting forward, yet she kept her distance, eyes sparkling.

Brig lacked many things, but one of them was not a sense of hearing. When the call went up he noticed immediately -- and perhaps the lessening of three of his senses gave him some extra power on the others. Not that he needed it, now -- the howl drew long and loud across the beach where he was picking through the cracked shells of oysters with the help of Adéwalé's beak.

For a brief moment he paused, ears slanting in the direction of the sound, face turning to follow. He contemplated sending Adéwalé on his own to see what was going on -- it did not sound like Smokestep's voice, but whatever it was he supposed he would have to meet his new packmates sooner or later. He sent the jackdaw a look, and the bird snapped neatly down to his shoulder.

He hadn't yet taken a single step when Adéwalé said, "Careful with the shells."

Brig paused, and looked at the ground, the razor-sharp pieces of oyster strewn about. "Ah, yes," he said, quite genuinely thankful about that warning, and manuvered himself gingerly around the patch of sand before he set off at a steady clip along the shore. The snow seemed to be on its way to melting, but still he stayed where the waves met the sand, splashing water up his legs, soaking his fur.

He rounded the outcropping of rock in his way and came to a somewhat abrupt stop when he spied exactly what he had been called to see. He knew neither one of the wolves facing off, but he could only assume they were also Ironsea -- as well as the tiny black and brown woman already watching some distance away. Smokestep was nowhere to be seen; he could only hope this wasn't infighting already.

He manuvered himself out of the reach of the water, and stood to watch. Adéwalé remained silent on his shoulder.

as they bore down upon each other sandpiper expected rosalyn to crumple, to fold -- to call it off as some hideous joke. a howl split the she-wolf's muzzle and for a moment sandpiper faltered, still expecting the wolf to call off her egregious display of insubordination.

instead she shouldered the female, the brunt of her blow carried by a broad swing of momentum. sandpiper felt herself roughly pushed aside, spun around like the thin edge of a stick on a hard surface.

pain. a fingerling web of it shot across the gnarled wound on her scruff, her breath already rasping.

she scrambled to regain her balance, her outside hind splayed as she committed to a coarse pirouette designed to bring her fully about to face rosalyn once more. the impact of their collision hastened her messy footwork and the pain from the blow made sandpiper frothy with retaliatory frustration. rosalyn at this point had likely carried on past her -- with a snarl the she-wolf careened forward and drove for a trailing hock, anything at all to bring this wretch down on the ground where she belonged. 

sandpiper remained unaware of the gathering audience. all that held her focus at this juncture was enforcing the hierarchy tooth and nail. rosalyn would pay for her insubordination; by fang or claw.

making the assumption we can skip anyone who joins <3 depending on momentum.  And y'all can jump in whenever with observations as you want

Stay down. Rosalyn thought as Sandpiper, to her great frustration, remained on her feet.  She did indeed dart past in the process, and her ears pulled back as she whirled around, this time intending to go for the legs as well, still trying to overbalance.

But Sandpiper's teeth caught her leg a glancing as she moved, and the pain ignited her own anger as well.  The momentum of her spin carried fhe limb from her jaws, and she bore down on the other wolf's injured scruff, hoping to latch on and pull her aside, unknowingly mirroring the fight she had not seen previously.

PP power given in your next post! just don't kill pls :P

the satisfaction sandpiper felt for wringing her adversaries hocks was short-lived as the chestnut she-wolf turned upon her, whirling about in the very same maneuver the girl had executed before. as they wrestled, sand flung into the air around them. the snarls of their struggles split between the cold rush of the sea, and rasps of pale and thick plume sprung from their parrying jaws whilst spittle rimed their slavering jaws.

fortunately for rosalyn and unfortunately for sandpiper, sandpiper was hardly the strand's greatest fighter. at a year old she had not amassed enough experience to recognize when to strike and when to counter, when to defend and when to duck. all sandpiper thought about was hurting rosalyn -- when all she should have been thinking about was playing her hand conservatively.

rosalyn arced down upon her like a shadow, her teeth true to their mark for sandpiper was too slow to dodge or counter. crippling pain suddenly erupted from the wound on her scruff and the girl screamed -- the high shriek evolved into a spitting snarl as she fell to the ground, agony consuming her senses and sending boughts of coarse shivers up her little frame.

no. she gasped, shuddering under rosalyn's fangs - no! it couldn't be over, not that quick.

she snarled then, pressed to the ground like a feral creature tethered to a line, her gaze glowering with bitterness that the she-wolf had stooped so low as to antagonize a wound already causing her great discomfort. it was a dirty trick that added grievous insult to injury. sandpiper felt a sob of frustration and pain choke her, her gaze hateful as she shuddered beneath rosalyn's jaws.

with a mighty wrench that elicited crippling pain sandpiper bucked once against rosalyn's teeth and tried to free herself, only to be firmly held down into the sand while new pain sprung down her back. in a last ditch effort she scrabbled wildly for one of rosalyn's paws -- anything at all to get back to that bitch.

(Slight pp with permission)

Rosalyn had expected the fight to be easy, and the younger woman to go down with little fight and much posturing.  She had held her rank by her brother's blessing alone, inadequate for any pirate crew worth its salt, but as Rosalyn fought her, she found herself impressed despite herself by the resilience and determination she showed in keeping it.  Oddly enough, as she wrestled Sandpiper to the ground, her measure of her grew.

Not enough to stop.  She had her opponent pinned, Sandpiper struggling to tear at anything in reach.  She got a few good digs at Rosalyn's paw, but she quickly lifted the one nearest and placed it firmly between Piper's shoulder blades, bearing down with weight and feeling her flatten to the ground beneath her.  Her jaws tightened as well, and her throat lit with a deep warning rumble from within.

Submit.

Perhaps another day, she would take her position back.  But today she was too green, youth and vulnerabilities leaving her open.  Rosalyn was far too willing, and far too practiced, at using such openings to her advantage.

When Sandpiper finally conceded, a slow fire of victory was already ignited in her gut, and she backed off from the woman, holding herself high and wary.  By rights she should now submit, and Rosalyn did not wish her more harm if she did so.  Wrestling her down the first time had taken effort, despite her alacrity at it, and she did not wish to go through the ordeal again.

the Cairn girl struggled,  but it was no use. Rosalyn's experience had bested the greenhorn, and Sandpiper was left with the bitter taste of defeat stinging her mouth. And sand.

As soon as pressure was lifted from her smarting shoulders the girl sprung upward with a snarl, her blackened gums curled back in a hateful grimace as she quickly placed distance between the victor and her shame. Overcome by disgrace, Sandpiper limped away -- but not before directing several furious snaps at their spectators.

last for me too

When she let her up, Sandpiper wasted no time in fleeing, her pride obviously and understandably hurt by the exchange.  There wasn't much pity in Rosalyn as she watched her snap at those watching... she'd made her own downfall by not turning some loyal friends.  She'd half expected and feared Sandpiper might call Smokestep and have him enforce her place, but she was glad that the girl had more pride than that.  Even as she beat her, her respect was growing, albeit small and slow.

Rosalyn breathed a heavy sigh, glancing with a small nod at the two watchers if they were still there.  Dakini earned a small smile; she was glad her friend had made it.  Then she sat down to put her pelt back together before she would need to seek out Smokestep.  Her stomach sank a bit at the thought, and she was glad for the excuse to put it off.

archiving!

blinded by the sting of defeat she ran -- and ran -- and ran. she did not so much as steal a glance behind her, so hot was the shame that burned her heels. she hated her - that bitch! nevermind that rosalyn had rightfully won, nevermind that sandpiper was the one who had lost -- all she could think of was how unfair it was, and how she had been rudely and cruelly slighted.

she could not even bring herself to inform her brother. instead, she strode down the beach and committed herself to the sand. she would not look back. she could not look back.