Redtail Rise Then she'll carelessly cut you

The borders had lost her scent- and it made her frustrated. This was her home. And furthermore, this was her home. She'd make sure it reeked of the pack if it was the last thing she did, and when she came across a scent trail left behind very recently by a coyote who had dared to cut past their borders, she growled and began pursuing it. 

When she came down to a snowy bank near the stream that flowed from the mountains, she saw it, digging. She crept closer, watching as the coyote dug, and occasionally stopped to sniff where it was pawing. The ground was hard, but the coyote was lean, hungry. She honed in on the creature, and realized it was doing just what she'd expected- it was raiding one of their very few caches!

No sooner had the creature tugged a frozen rabbit from the ground than Lilia charged toward it, pummeling into its side and knocking the frozen morsel of food from its grasp. Once they regained their footing, the two canines leapt at one another, jaws clacking, each seeking penance for the other's injustice.

Home at last. Relic had missed the familiarity of the rise and was happy to be back on native soil. What he was less than pleased with was the absence of the scent of their own on the borders. Replaced with the tang of Sapphique, but all in good intention. The growing boy huffed his annoyance, setting to promptly douse the markers in urine. Reinforcing them with the only true, proper scent that should ever belong.

Time had hardened him. Shaped him. Travel and battle skirmishes found his skin nicked with a peppering of small cuts or gashes, just below the line of his fur. His winter coat had grown in completely, retaining some of it's adolescence raggedness yet. While he matured, growing more primal, the burnt ridge along his nape took on a wild, razored look. Yet to fill out completely, his tail showed signs of being much the same.

He was finishing his rounds when he heard a commotion near the stream he knew so well. The sound of bodies colliding and jaws snapping. The scent of his own and vermin. Coyote. 

This was no time for a ritualized greeting. Lilia was tangled in conflict. Red eyes hard, Relic stalked close until he was within striking distance of the coyote. He positioned himself behind it and aimed for it's hindquarters. Whether or not he hit his mark, with all the flailing going on, could be tricky.

Jaws clacking, they snapped at each other, fencing with canines before both fell sideways, planting four feet back on the ground again. Neither took the time to square up before lunging once more, and they came together clumsily, teeth raking through fur and jaws snapping together, empty. With the coyote's shoulder to her chest, she managed to nab a mouthful of its shaggy scruff and began to shake her head from side to side, but the fur there was thick and loose. The coyote sank its teeth into the hard muscle at her shoulder. 

She didn't notice Relic until she felt the coyote get shoved against her from the impact. Lilia's shoulder was released, and she was grateful for the respite. She let go of its scruff, and stepped back, as tried to squirm and lash out at her packmate. Its side left open, Lilia bowled herself against it- hoping to knock the coyote right off its feet so they could get at its vulnerable underside.

Where once there was silence, a horrendous snarl gurgled from his throat. Not surprisingly, the coyote turned on him, frenzied. Rugged wear and tear and a taste for battle prepared him well. Phased only enough to shift back a few steps, while needle like teeth punctured and scraped along his cheek.

It's purchase on their own paws wavering, Relic removed his jaws to clamp them down over the spine at hip level. A massive white paw pinned the body down, twisting it unnaturally to the side. He crunched down, harder and harder. He would snap this thief's vertebrae in two.

Outnumbered and overpowered, it didn't have a hope. It wouldn't have mattered, either, if Lilia had been able to knock it off balance- the cracking of bone ensured it would never stand or walk again. Its shrill cries pierced the air and blood coloured its spittle. 

Out there was a wolf who had killed one of their own, but none of them had been able to seek justice. The coyote was committing a different form of trespass, but the wolves had unsatiated lust, still. Travel-weary and battered from battle they might've been, but neither of the young wolves was going to let the coyote have an ounce of ground. 

Lilia grabbed the creature at its jawline, in such a place that she could get a firm grip, but the creature's airpipe was left unobstructed. She wanted to hear it scream all of its last regrets into her ear, as if it might smother the screaming voices inside her head.

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: Mild gore.

Together, they could have ended the lesser canid's life right there on the spot. But he wanted it petrified. To screech, squirm and fade in agony. The Redtails had to take out their un-satiated lust for revenge on someone. This coyote had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Beneath his polished teeth, he heard the bony crack he had been looking for. Felt the spine crumble under his hold. Out of luck or due to the low position down the column, death was not instantaneous. Fate chose to render the coyote paralyzed from the waist down.

Blood dripping from the small gashes on his cheek, he stepped over their prone body. Lips lifted in a snarl. Red eyes locked with wild brown ones. Never moving while he lowered his muzzle down and savagely, painstakingly began to unzip their underside. He hissed once, an inquisitive sound meant for Lilia. 

He would harvest them. Collect the bloodied trophies. A glaring reminder that the Redtail wolves were not to be crossed.

She held on tight, and looked up to lock eyes with Relic the moment the creature's spine broke. The cries reached their peak, and then softened slowly, becoming agonized breaths that eventually faded and stopped with a wheeze. She growled softly into the fur of its throat, her breath fanning across its cheekbone. 

She let its head fall to the ground when Relic came nearer. She felt something swim within her chest, and she uttered another soft growl, which she hushed when she was invited closer. She crowded in by his side. Coyote meat did not appeal to her, and she wasn't sure what it was that he allured him so- but nevertheless, she was fascinated, and watched with sparkling eyes as he began to disembowel the slain creature. She awaited the next step of the process, if there was one. 

String the intestines out? lay them near the caches as a warning? Or did he have more sinister purposes for them still?

The meat was not what he was after. But he didn't mind splitting the body open. It could be a harsher reminder for any of the coyote's kin who happened upon it's remains. Which, would not go to waste. The scavengers would see to that.

Relic, never having been one for words, grunted to Lilia. Locking eyes with her again, while he placed a paw on the limp, scraggly tail. Here. Watch. He seemed to say. Pincher like, he snagged his teeth under the fine layer of skin and began to tug. Pulled with soft, short jerks. It was the hide he wanted. A fine chew toy for the wolves to take out their aggression on.

She watched, flicking her tongue over her muzzle and sampling the metallic taste of blood. Hers? possibly. 

When he started to tug at the skin, after having snipped through some points where it might attach, she realized what he was doing. She'd once stripped a bobcat of its pelt, thinking she could use it to sleep on, but it'd ended up being stiff and uncomfortable, and had begun to smell within days. She reached out to step down on the coyote's shoulders once they were bare, to secure it, and allow Relic to strip the pelt more easily.

With Lilia assisting in holding the carcass down, Relic stripped away the rest of the pelt in one clean cut. He, at this stage, was too simple minded and brutish to understand the technique in curing furs. Provided it was not torn to shreds, he may well test it's suitability for lining the cold ground of his sleeping space. And if it were not to his liking...well, he would pass it on to someone else.

Stepping aside and away from the skinned coyote, he let the pelt drag down loosely between his legs. He shook his head, tossing the makeshift back and forth. Once he had enough of that, he approached Lilia again. Seemingly ignorant of the two deep punctures, still bleeding slightly on his left cheek, he nosed over her cautiously. Inspecting her for injury or damage. He may be a beast, but he cared for his own.

It seemed as though this was a practice he'd worked at before. He'd begun with the underside, and had cleaved the skin in particular places; she might have to keep track of that for next time. Little flecks of blood were dashed here and there as he shook the pelt out, and she sat, watching him patiently, until he figured it'd lie flat enough. 

Her cheeks grew warm when he came over to her and she stood back up. For a moment, she bristled- not typically accustomed to having anyone come this close to her without inciting a spar- but he was checking her for injuries. She spotted the puncture wounds on his cheek, and blinked. With a low rumble intended to reassure him, she began licking at the fur near his ear, slowly moving her way toward his injuries so she could clean them if he would allow her to do so.

He felt and saw her bristle, relaxing when she found that he meant no harm. His response to her reassuring rumble was a soft huff and a slight lift of his jaw. His wildly serrated tail swayed slowly at his legs, a sign of his laid back mood.

When she began to clean behind his ear, he stiffened for a moment. Not used to being touched or groomed. He shuffled on his front paws, but did not pull back. The wounds on his cheek were tender. They would sting like the devil when she licked them. Relic, a true Redtail, would not show weakness. Only a slight crinkling of the skin beneath his eyes. 

He noticed the speckling of blood on her dark fur. Still fresh, tainting her coat. He nosed at her cheek, once. Smearing a droplet of blood away. Trying to format his message in a way she might understand.

They were both proud creatures, raised by firm law and had spent more time sparring than playing. Physical affection was not something that was given out now that they were no longer children- but Lilia had begun to experiment with it once more, especially with boys who were age. She found that it had an effect she'd not really anticipated, but was welcomed nonetheless. 

When he reached out to smear a bit of blood off her cheek, she watched him with dancing eyes. Whatever his intention had been, she'd missed it. A bit of blood still remained on the tip of his nose. She blinked, and a faint smile pulled at the edges of her lips. She reached down, to the torn creature's body, and touched it with her muzzle. The blood showed up only as a mahogany highlight on her whiskers- but when she reached out to smear it along Relic's cheek- where the fur was soft and gold- she knew it would leave behind a streak of bright red. She grinned. 

it looked good on him.

He squinted, trying to make out the blood against the dark of her coat. It did not stand out terribly well. Then, curiously, she was reaching down to the bloodied remains again.

And felt the warmth of blood and the cool contrast of her nose on his cheek. He blinked, his heart thudding erratically. The act, the notion of blood painting itself was curious. Exhilarating, even. In his throat, he crooned raspily. Approving.

He smirked. Perhaps the first true semblance of a smile Relic had ever shown to anyone. He dipped his muzzle into the carcass, white fur staining red. When he came back up for her, his touch was not at her face, but at her nape. Where there, he'd stain her golden mantle in blood paint.

Her tail waved when he whispered his approval. Her heart fluttered; she felt a kinship growing that she had not expected from the quiet young man. She caught the changing of his features, brightening in a way she'd never seen before. She was flattered and allured. 

He reached for the corpse and her breath fetched when he reached for her. She crooned a gentle note when he ran his muzzle along her shoulders, smearing her golden ruff with the rich, red stain. She felt impulsive and bold; she pressed closer to him and combed her teeth through his fur in a manner that was intended to make him swoon. 

She reached for the blood again- and began to paint a line from his shoulders to his flank, heart racing as she took delight in their new form of intimacy.

He fizzled all over, in a strangely warm way. The world blacked out around him, becoming some distant plane. Leaving him aware of only her, her touch and the smell of blood. Teeth clipped gently through his fur. Not in the affectionate way his mother would groom him. But in a manner much more suggestive.

And he approved. Crooned low in reply. Brought his lips down to graze along the underside of her neck. She painted him, streaking his shoulder to side in rich red blood. His tail flagged high, wiggling with excitement. He turned to sweep along her side, smearing his freshly marked fur along her own.

He was not done. Far from it. He would get creative, now as his eye landed on the stripped carcass again. Skinned, but not peeled open. Grasping it by the chest, he flung it back and forth roughly. Until the body cavity split, draining out a considerable puddle of red into the dirt. 

His eyes beckoned her.

She tilted her head back, and freely allowed him to groom the fur of her chest, trailing up the sides of her neck in a show of trust that wouldn't have been afforded to many. Any, in fact. She trusted Relic only because she sensed that he was as feral as she; they could play this game of pushing boundaries and delighting in the sensation of coming very close to death- while dancing away from it with the softness of their touches. 

She felt static crackle in the space between them. She uttered a purling growl as his body slid alongside hers, feeling the transfer of blood from his fur to hers. When he reached for the corpse again, it was to shake it, sending droplets of blood that would compliment the streaks and smudges they'd already stained themselves with. A pool of blood remained; his eyes gave her instructions. 

She held her breath and slid her muzzle into the still, faintly warm pool of blood. When she lifted her head, thick droplets of blood fell from the corners of her muzzle. Her lips parted slightly, offering glimpse of the off-white fangs just behind her blood-soaked lips. She remained stationary- willing for him, as well, to do the same.

He watched with intensity in his eyes. With a swarm of emotions. Intoxication, lust, joy. The black fur of her muzzle seemed to glisten like ink, doused in the fresh blood. The flash of white, young teeth.


A thin smirk lined his lips. Without peeling his eyes off her, he lowered his head down, deliberately. He submerged his muzzle, tiny little bubbles frothing up around his cheeks. Staring at her mischievously.

Relic's snout and most of his face was near black with the blood of their victim. The warmth of it, the metallic smell...and most certainly the looks of it, all deeply appealed to him. More so, on her. He drew close, heated breath billowing from parted lips, inches from her own. Tense and eager for what she may do next.

Disguised, the masked wolves regarded each other, fire in their eyes. She watched the blood drip from Relic's muzzle, and fought the urge to draw more- perhaps even from him. But the kindred wildness they shared smothered that impulse; instead, she uttered a soft, inviting growl, and with her hackles flown, she wheeled, and bolted. 

They left behind little more than shreds, of what used to be an animal, and coursed through the packlands leaving behind spatters and streaks of ichor.