Emberflame Ridge skill, not emotion, sends my arrow flying

Merc Thread with @Wraen :)

     The sun was only just beginning to tip over the jagged horizon, washing Emberflame Ridge in an ominous sanguine glow. Embry finished off the final scarce morsels of his dinner; grunting as he hefted himself to all fours. His flaxen coat was eerily pale in the tide of dampening light. 

     Great. He thought sullenly as he gazed back at the remnants of meat and blood splayed across the ground. Now every damn wolf this side of the ridge know I'm here. Might as well have howled. He shook his head. Normally he was an optimistic, rallying type guy. If there was something in need of resolution, surely negativity wouldn't achieve anything, right? Yeah. It's a lot harder when you're flying solo in unfamiliar territory. 

     A long time ago, Embry learned that a wolf looking for trouble could scent a loner three times as fast as a peacekeeper could. Maybe tonight he'd be proven wrong, eh? He tore his sea-green orbs from the pulpy viscera, scowling as the tempting fumes filled his nostrils. Surely nobody will pick me up? I'm near the base of the ridge, after-all... 

     If he chose to stay and defend the kill, he would be in for a nice breakfast and possible lunch tomorrow. That was more than some loners could ask for in a hundred years. He plopped to a sitting position beside the meat; huffing sanctimoniously. Alright, Embry. Try not to get yourself killed. He chuckled haughtily. No wolf was going to disrupt his potential for a nutritious morning meal.

It had been a very long day and an empty one too, if you did not count the leming Wraen had caught for a meagre breakfast in the morning. She had thought that exploring new hunting grounds would bring her luck - it was usually the case, but this time it was not. Stunning sights and viewing of prospective hunting grounds were all good and well, but they did not feed you. 

Meat did and meat she caught a whiff of, when she entered the ridge. Her empty stomach growled, her mouth filled with saliva at a prospect of having something, anything in her belly. Yet soon it turned out that this would not be so easy, because there was a keen guardian sitting right next to the plate with the delicious entrails in them. Wraen weighed out her options (not great) and compared it to her desperation (a bit bigger) and multiplied this with a willingness to try. 

Therefore she approached slowly and carefully, not particularly hiding her intent of having at least some bit of that other wolf's property with her eyes gleaming and expression telling of her hunger and determination. At a polite distance, however, she came to a halt and scrutinized he would be opponent, evaluating him, before making a move.

Embry's heart sank at the first sign of a potential visitor. Of course he had been hoping for some alone time with his provisions, and a part of him had actually believed this wish to be viable. The scent was unmistakable, though: wary, ravenous, and hopeful. A pang of sympathy ebbed in the back of his mind. Typical Embry to feel guilty; typical to find links to his past self and apply them so skillfully.

     The male did not tip off that he was aware of the female's presence. His fur lay fat along his spine and nape; eyes remaining nonchalant and somewhat abstracted. Only when he felt comfortable with what he could gather at this point of his present guest did he allow his gaze to calmly sift across the clearing in her direction. His brain tempered out mental notes as the scene unravelled.

     Timid approach. Must be smaller - wants something. 

    He shifted slightly; muscles rippling along his shoulder and flank. He made sure it was clear in his stiff, towering stature that this was non-negotiable. Any other day, he might have considered more pacific terms: for instance, maybe even sharing this handiwork of his. However he was only just recovering from the malnourishment characteristic of the taiga, and the barbarous laws of the wild did not budge.

Wraen was not a fighter by nature - she was too small, her build too light, meant for running fast. And it was clear after her initial assessment that this wolf was an opposite of her - tall, strong and should she attempt to steal, this would probably be the last thing she would do in her life. In the worst case scenario. 

But was the guy smart? Could she outwit him? With this in mind her whole body language changed, she smiled at him sweetly and wagged her tail in a friendly manner. Her eyes now were focused solely on the man, no sign or anything that she would be more interested in the "persona" of the tasty entrails. She made a play-bow and then did two quick laps, stopping only to invite him to join her for a friendly chase and spar.

     Embry cocked his ears at the female's smile. He shifted slightly; perplexed. This was admittedly odd behavior for a wolf of guile. Why the sudden amiability? The abrupt exposure was mildly disturbing.

     Thus, the brute did not waver. He only narrowed his tepid, oceanic gaze. Whatever it was she was trying to do, it only made him stand firmer ground. If he had learned anything in this business, it was to remember the goal.

He did not budge, which was a reaction Wraen had not entirely excluded as a possibility. Perhaps he realized that he would not be able to catch up with her - in her experience big and heavy wolves preferred to save energy and not waste any movements. Or maybe he saw through her and preferred to stay close to the food. 

This meant that she would have to go from plan A (luring away) to plan B - closing the distance between them. This she did, sliding nearer and nearer, but always leaping away in the last moment, giving an impression of a wolf, who had a plan in mind, but was not too confident by the other. However, on the third take she remained, flopped on her belly, placed her head between her outstretched paws and with a wagging tail, looked up longingly at her target. 

Should he not move himself, she would advance.

     Embry resisted the urge to snap. He eyed her viciously now; snarling at her kittenish advances. It was irritating to watch her flutter around in such agile fluidity - free of the bonds clinging to his own weighty mass. As much as he didn't want it to budge, his mental stamina was careening. 
 
     Upon the temptress' third and final draw, he pushed off of his hind limbs and lunged forward. He knew that from her position, she would be unable to withdraw without rolling or performing a swifter manuever than lone countersteering. His large paws reached for her shoulders in hopes of pinning the female in her haste.

Wraen became aware that the stranger was a boiling pot of hot anger concealed by a stoic mask only, when he lunged at her with an aim to pin her down. Had she realized this a second too late, she would not have been able to duck and shove herself out of his way, his paws grazing along her ribcage. Though not in a position for a full-blown counter-attack, she did manage to snap at the other's side of the face. It was in self-defence only and with a clear message of - what the hell is wrong with you?!!!

     Embry scowled at his haste. Indeed, it proved to be only a hindrance in his tactic. Sprawled forward now - just inches from the successful tag - he was forced to recoil at the sight of glinting, pearly daggers near the soft, exposed flesh of his face. That would not do... He would find another way.

     Undeterred, he continued the motion forward; tawny honey-ochre fur bristling with newfound vigor. The momentum from a short punch of his hind legs carried through as he dove forward upon the final bound. His last-moment correction was sufficient in lifting his trajectory to find contact with her outstretched snout. He met her snapping jaws with a hard thud of his shoulders.

Shit! Wraen thought, when the other's hit at her face struck her between her eyes directly, leaving her confounded and unfocused with blue stars dancing before her eyes and sharp pain coursing through up and down her skull. It hurt so badly that tears welled up in her eyes from pain, blurring her vision and thus making her attempt to retreat and flee fruitless. All she could do was growl and bare her teeth at the enemy, and snap around her, not caring, if she missed the guy or not, just wishing him to take a step back and contain himself.

     Embry's heart keeled at his success. Indeed, the moment was enough to reinspire his efforts - boosting his sluggish motions into more choreographed renditions of their former frenzy. Adrenaline coursed a heavy tympany through his inner lobes; pounding across his temples in a crusade of replenishing vigor.

     The moment was shortlived, to say the least. The youth was simply too excited, now. Never would he have allowed such slapdash performance as this: to advance without design; without a clear objective. Immediately, the field grew hazy. The once clear and fulsome stream of tactic now dribbled slowly into the final dredges of his dwindling, clouded mind. He knew of the danger he would be in if he should continue with this fruitless approach. 

     Venom evident in his oceanic orbs, the boy retreated to a safe distance from the recovering female. He proceeded to drill himself on the various methods of productive respiration.
     
     1... in. .. . 2... out...

     The fog was lifting, albeit slowly. He knew, however, that any skilled fighter would not be disheartened. He had played his best move and now was the interim in which his adversary was in the hot seat - not the other way around - and he made this distinct in his confident stride and boisterous energy.

Wraen surrenders and flees. Though long about it, but did not see her realistically attacking him again.

The moment Wraen felt the enemy retreat and give her space, she got up to her feet, even if it was a bit groggily. Her head still ached from the blow, but her vision had cleared somewhat and she was able to see the opponent with a bit more details than the blurred shapes before. She wasted no time to put some distance between them, then stopped to turn a little and gave one long look at the wolf, memorizing his face, memorizing every single, important detail about him. She would not be able to do anything about him yet or in the near future. But just if... and there she promissed herself... just if the fate would have it, she would make him pay for this. 

The idea of revenge gave room for anger, which in turn fuelled her beaten body. Without another look back she fled for her life.

Gotcha - that's understandable (and certainly very commendable in terms of realistic roleplay)

     It didn't take long for Embry to notice the pattern shift in his rival's features. Her body seemed to shudder, as though a faulty glitch in reality, and within seconds, disappear. The dark palette of her pelage pressed evenly into the surrounding terrain; morphing into a distant blur of motion. He had not expected such a brief offront: the retreat was as unanticipated as the sudden return to tranquility in the clearing. Evidently, he was faced with deciding whether she was worth the chase.

     Shrugging the urging of his inspired adrenaline, the honey-golden male calmed his heaving flanks and relented the idea of finishing the job. Never had he been one for sheer, unchecked bloodshed. He angled his body toward his kill, whose aromas fluttered as holy accolades about his senses, but did not let his oceanic gaze slip from the female's jagged line of descent. Something told him that she was not one to be counted out for the fight...

     Breakfast is served, Embry, He thought with a grim twinge of humor.