Redtail Rise sclera

not even the serpent know why he rose and returned to the taiga.

jorunn's mark would scar.

asmodeus longed horribly for someone else to drive out the spectre of her lingering in his mind.

it was unfair. it was fucking hideous how she had lodged there.

and so he returned to the rise, and this time his call was one rough-edged with his own frustration and that of the season. he prowled the edge of the claim and waited for the tall man to come down.

It would not be long before the white beast returned to the rise. Tulimaq thought this many times during his patrols, and was not surprised to see the familiar shape.

This time he did not charge straight at him; he knew better, having learned that the man was quicker than he appeared, and more cunning. His investment in hedonism during this season would not pay off unless Tulimaq saw value in it.

He stalked eagerly along, bristling, a low rumble in his chest as he crested the rise, and bore a menacing look.

asmodeus saw the man and halted in the snow on stiff legs. for a long moment he considered running again. 

and then his alabaster tail arced defiantly, and the hackles bristled as if they were a bouquet of icicles. 

i'll have your woman, he sang into the teeth of the wind, song ending abruptly as he waited to see if his bait would take.

Tulimaq sized up this man. He did not run as he expected, but stood firm, like the nearby glacier. All ice and spikes and attitude; things he would have found appealing if this land was his own.

The man called openly for what he desired, staring at Tulimaq until the sound ceased. The warrior bristled as he circled the stranger but he did not strike.

His teeth flashed with a warning.

Good luck with that.

And then came the lunge through the snow.

the last teeth to slice for him had belonged to jorunn.

asmodeus did not have a chance to change his mind before the stranger cut through the drifts. jaws closed along his hip as he turned. blood welted immediately against his stark fur.

but still the man did not run.

she had wanted commitment.

asmodeus snarled and threw a hasty attack toward the other wolf's face.

The warrior was grinning widely, red and sharp, and released his hold when the counter came. It was fast but it was unmoored; he adjusted and threw himself after the white wolf again, seeking the other side for blood-letting.

Pressing himself low after, Tulimaq sought the man's soft belly, and felt his jaw jam against ribs in the process. He was unhindered as he continued the brawl.

fangs echoed against bone. asmodeus snarled in pain this time and bit savagely for the cheeks, the forehead, the ears of the other man.

in his mind belharra's face changed to that of jorunn.

the season's eagerness and aggression culminated in asmodeus. he attempted to twist away as red started to well once more beneath the slashing jaws of the stranger.

There was pain in him, but it did not deter. If anything Tulimaq felt more alive for it; he snarled and snapped, driving his bulk against the man's own to try and send him bowling over.

Teeth, teeth, teeth; a fury.

Blood dripped in to his eyes. He had been cut somewhere — it did not matter where — and was forced to withdraw a step as his vision blurred red.

the man shoved and withdrew. asmodeus fell heavily into the snow, his belly streaming red into the drifts. he snarled and rolled to protect the wound, agony lancing through him.

lips skinned back from his own bloodied teeth. the black eyes reflected nothing else.

asmodeus tucked his chin and growled a threatening tone as red steamed beneath him.

Tulimaq blinked until the red of his vision decreased.

He took a risk and rubbed his face against his foreleg before snaking towards the man, unable to tell him apart from the snow piled high at first. He was grimacing; then when he saw how feeble the man looked, there was a new pride to the expression. A lift of the head, a more prominent puffing to his body.

Now, he could have sought to finish things there — it was his right, in victory, to take this one's life and keep the red girl safe. But he did not.

You can fight. Tulimaq had observed as much; his body would be bruised and bloody for a while yet.

She's looking for fighters.

"that's not me."

he wasn't a fighter. fuck. he didn't even know why he was here.

he didn't understand why the man's teeth weren't at his throat now.

asmodeus seethed lowly beneath his breath. "who is she?" the last thing he wanted was another attachment. another obsession.

Wealda. Calls herself Avicus. Perhaps it was not wise to give away so much to one so low, but Tulimaq did not truly care. He knew the girl could fend well for herself.

This man knew better than to try anything now; he was wounded, weak, and would die if Tulimaq willed it.

He refused the offer. That could have been reason enough. A different angle might hook this man to their cause: There is a boy among us with a mind for healing.

Tulimaq prowled closer. He did not see it worthwhile to spell things out entirely to the white wolf. The new offer seemed obvious to him: I could help you or I could kill you.

Take it or leave it.

he had never worn a pack's colors before.

blood seeped into the snow. he was weakening. but the serpent refused to show more of this to his opponent. 

he thought of jorunn, driving him off along the coast.

this tall man smelled of many males, all who might seek to test asmodeus in the same way. was it worth it for a single woman whose season had not started?

"maybe i want to bleed out." was it sarcasm? he hitched up his hindquarters and began to inch away, keeping his face turned toward the stranger.

A rumble perforated the air. Tulimaq stalked after the injured man and in haste, straddled over him.

It was as much an act of defiance as it was domination - and he reached to grip at the man's pale shoulders to first pull him, then plant him, so that they would go no further.

One fluid motion gave Tulimaq the control of life or death over this man. He knew this, and it made his body tense in places.

a roll of muscles.

a growl.

asmodeus had his wish granted in one neat cut of fangs.

he lay twitching in the snow, paws churning and claws scraping as he choked and swore and came to the end of himself.

there was only regret to be found as asmodeus dimmed for the final time.

Tulimaq held firm until the man began to writhe.

He found more enjoyment then. The thrashing awoke something primal that had until that moment been derived from a successful hunt; this was one such death, he thought. This man had been prey as soon as he had reared his ugly little head.

There had been a chase the first time. A fight the second. A choice; but in the ghost's refusal came Tulimaq's supremacy. He rumbled a note of pleasure as the life drained from the man.

He thrashed his head to and fro, until there was a frothing red where his teeth met flesh. Gyrating, laughing, feeling all manner of things, until he was too tired - or too bored - to continue. He withdrew then, licking his lips; not bothering to clean much from himself.

The warrior would wear all of these things pridefully as he left the body behind.