Fox's Glade boniface

for @Chakliux and @Dutch <3 to preface the events that will surely come, i give full permission for injuries so long as they will not kill him (yet) >:D

god called him eastward yet again.
for a while, andras did not know why. he merely did as he was told by the soft chorus inside his head — he thought of his disciples, those who had crossed his path for one reason or another. he had saved face up until now, and he was grateful for it.
the mountains sloped downward into a gaping valley, a sanctuary cradled. it reminded him viscerally of home.
he often thought of his shaba, the memory of honey-brown eyes and her velvet skin; the dainty bones which were now scattered somewhere far from here. he did not know if they remained where he had left them. visions of her came in his dreams and in the middle of the day — the smell of her, the taste of her.
it startled him somewhat as the prophet crossed beneath the barren trees. how strong the scent was, as if it were real, and how it lingered. it was different, too; atypical, musky. it mingled with others. but realization soon came to him the further east he traveled. he falls to his knees, crawling, unwolven noises grinding from his throat;

how could he not recognize his own daughter?

!!!!!!!!!!

the seal hunter had taught dutch a joke. it involved looking at the hunter who might be walking farther ahead of the rest in his party, caught by eagerness. come back, igimak! another might call, referring to the hunting prong methods by which they surrounded their prey on the ice. he wants to strike into the warmth first! another might howl, until igimak was shouting back, and laughing, and returning to the protection of their group.
foreshafts were the first lost in the long dark.
so now, as they traveled in the direction of the glade, chakliux found a singular reek cutting through the itiguk of the many foxes. another time he might have made a loud jest about their stink; now he only slipped into a hunting crouch.
the berrybright eyes searched through the cold shadows of the interlaced boughs; chakliux moved silently and with purpose among them, until the grate of the monster's growling thrummed powerfully around he and dutch.
only now did he catch the other's eye, hatred darkening, filling the pupil, and bloodlust tensing his jaw.

These stories and jokes were eagerly absorbed by the teller of tales, who repeated each new word to himself to commit it to memory. The nuance of how these words could be used together came naturally to him, and even in this crude joke, he saw the poetry of this new language's wordcraft. He would speak it, one day, but for now he listened.

So he noticed when the other man went quiet. He did not understand why, at first, unfamiliar still with their prey's scent. But as the silence rang between them, and through the ghostly, cackling cries of distant foxes cut another unearthly sound, he felt skin tighten, and his fur began to mantle.

Their eyes spoke when their gaze connected. Dutch jerked his nose toward the sound. Quarrel — I will back thee. I'm with you.

He pressed forward, wiggling through the underbrush when thorns caught in his fur. His first sight of the wolf made his stomach twist in sour unease. He cut a sharp glance to Chakliux, alarm bells ringing in his head. Did the seal hunter know of the ravening curse?

"Do not let his teeth score you," he said urgently, his pulse suddenly pounding. Had he bitten Marina? Dutch could not recall what he'd been told — he could only think of what Chakliux needed to know here and now, at the cost of alerting the monster to their presence.

<33333 so excited for this HEHE

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: creepiness/fuckedupery i am so so sorry

wren
his baby girl, his little bird.
somewhere, by god's glorious design, she was here, and he could smell her. he thought of her face, of the soft spot on her forehead that mirrored his own. the downy pelt, the ribs beneath skin and the lilt of her voice.
oh, he had missed her.
verrò da te, amore mio, his knuckles clench as he slumps into the banks of pallid earth. oh, mio Dio, grazie!
in the midst of his own cry, he hears yet another; the chatter of foxes, and then the sound of what could only be a wolven gait — footsteps. two sets.
the father freezes as an unsettling silence shatters his joy, and he now turns his gaze toward the trees. somewhere in him, he knows who it is.

he cannot outrun them now.

me too!

the seal hunter was silent as he descended after the man. each step was sure, each murderous in its own right, and his berrybright eyes were a stabbing glow on the man as they finally were shown to one another.
do not let his teeth score you, but chakliux was lunging. let the monster draw blood! he would wear the marks of those fangs home to his wives.
his jaws cut for the shoulder, fast and harsh.

It was as he feared — Chakliux was deaf to him. Dutch thought to cry out once more, but there was no time to waste. He would never forgive himself if the seal hunter was cursed because Dutch's mouth had been full of words instead of flesh. He raced to meet the pair of them, snarling mightily to try and draw the cursed one's focus away from Chakliux. His own teeth snapped close to the cursed one's face, scoring thin flesh over hard skull if the man was not fast enough.

He wanted, desperately, to close his teeth around the cursed one's muzzle. If he could do this, he could remove much of the peril he felt they were in.

he did not have the time to think, much less react. bodies came for him in a whirl of drawn up silver snow, and teeth met his face, his shoulder.
despite his instict, he does not fight back. he drops to the ground with a long stream of high-pitched, fitful whines and screeches. he is outnumbered. he does not have his own men! he realizes quickly that this must be a fight of the mind, and not of the body.
god works in strange ways.
stop! who are you! his breath falters as he attempts to yank himself out from under the sets of jaws. already he tastes his own blood on his lips. what is the meaning of this?!

but chakliux did not stop, for he had been searching for this man and this face.
dutch's jaws snapped. the man cried fitfully. chakliux grabbed a mouthful of dark hackles and began to saw his head to and fro, loosing flesh from skin from muscle from bone;
he would not be denied a trophy this time.

Under the tang of foxscent, it was no wonder the three did not detect the larger predator lurking in the area. Not, at least, until it was barreling toward them, mowing down dense underbrush in its wake. Dutch swung toward the new threat and swore as he realized what it was:

A grizzly bear.

A mother, with cubs.

Dutch didn't bother shouting instruction this time, although a wordless bellow still twisted through the cacophony. He dove into the fray with the intent of knocking Chakliux loose from his prey — and then dragging him along by the scruff for a few stumbling steps just to get him moving. It was not quite quick enough to escape the powerful sweep of the mother's large paw. Blood welled from sizeable scores left by the grizzly's long, wicked claws.

The panther didn't notice. The blow had knocked all air and sense out of him, and as he scrambled back to his paws, he was more concerned with seeing Chakliux unharmed than taking stock of his own wounds.

god had smiled upon him again, and it came in the form of five large talons aimed at the dark-hooded attacker. rancid breath stung his nostrils, and for the first few wicked seconds, andras did not know fear; only gratitude.
the unholy roar sounds from behind him as he scrambles to get away, the throbbing agony burning away to numbness as he tumbles behind a shrub. what does one do, in a situation like this? he could run, take his chance to scramble, leave the heathens to be taken by the ursine. leave it up to fate; up to their own will to survive and find him again, bring him to his undoing.
or, perhaps, he could save his reputation. risk his own safety for the slim chance that they may hear his hymn and turn their teeth away.
in the meantime, he is frozen, crouched out of sight, but surely not out of mind. time slows as a glossy pair of obsidian eyes scan for him through the brush, and her offspring huff along beside her.

injuries discussed in PM but lmk if not okay!

the bear's rage was almost as great as his own.
dutch struck for him as bruin claws sliced in the songwolf's direction. blood in the air, and chakliux dragged back and back, bellowing through tightened jaws that — ripped from spine and shoulders a dripping piece of monsterskin
he hit the ground hard and rolled, moving back to flank dutch. he did not speak; he would not drop what he had managed to take this time.
instead, chakliux shouted again through closed teeth, and shouldered dutch roughly as the bear began another charge, shoving him sidelong and leaping in the opposite direction.
and triumph was beneath the terror.

Nothing hurt yet — but the panther was familiar enough with physical trauma that he knew it would soon. It was imperative that they escape before their bodies began to take notice of their injuries, whatever they might be.

The seal hunter was on his paws, now taking the role of shepherd as the bear moved again. Dutch needed no words to understand what must be done, and in a flash, had executed plan Run Like Hell. He hesitated only long enough to see that Chakliux was with him before shooting for top speed.

The bear crashed after them for a time, but Dutch kept running even after he stopped hearing her behind them. They came to a clearing where they would at least see her before she reached them, and he stopped abruptly to turn a thunderous look on Chakliux. He struck out with a paw and accused him: "Did your jaw lock, gadhe? She nearly tore us in half!"

But there was no real weight behind these indignant words. His emotions were running high after the close shave, but it was more shock than anger that lead to the outburst. And he was only huffy and not begrudging when he nodded at the fur.

"We can pass his scent on this way," he said, still breathless after the run.

He had not yet noticed the sizeable slashes on his hip, where the bear's claws had scored him. There was very little muscle damage, but it would still be an unpleasant recovery.

last from me!! ty guys for doing this with me!!! they will meet again >:D

time seemed to move in slow motion. blood, shouting, teeth, skin, claws; andras broke away with rivulets of crimson staining the tarblack of his face and shoulders. the cold sent a shock of awareness from head to tailtip.
the sow turned now for the heathens, and andras was not about to waste a second more. he dove eastward, away, and for perhaps the first time in his life, his tail fell between his legs.

last for me! <3

he was scolded, upbraided! but he knew it came from a place of affection and care, and so bowed his head beneath the words and listened, heeding.
the monster had gone. the bear was far.
he put his shoulder against that of his hunting-brother. "let us go. we have caught our monster. we have skinned his hide. the bear will chase him. we have been warriors here."
a step toward the opposite side of the forest, his head swiveling for the bruin.