Shadewood With all the fire we can breathe.

Any day now, her daughter would give birth. Towhee wanted to make sure she was near at hand when the time came, so she checked in with Meerkat this morning to make sure there were no signs of labor. Assured that today wouldn’t be the day, she announced her intention to head outside the copse on one last foray before the pups came. Hopefully she could bring home some grub.

She headed northwest, cutting through the neighboring thicket and rousing a couple of its namesake grouse. Towhee considered visiting Orca's and X’s graves on the plateau, though she opted to continue on her current trajectory instead. When she hit one of the many rivers around here, she loped north along the bank. She didn’t plan to cross, though an easterly wind delivered to her nose the smell of venison.

It was a little aged, though Towhee didn’t mind if it meant an easy meal. She located a shallow spot and forded the river, then loped through the shady wood over yonder. She stopped to sniff at the spoor of fellow wolves, though as far as she could ascertain, the forest wasn’t officially inhabited. Nonetheless, she proceeded with caution, orange eyes constantly sweeping her surroundings.

When she came upon the carcass, there wasn’t much left. Towhee nosed around it, bolting down a few mouthfuls of meat. At first, she raised her head between each bite to make sure nobody encroached. But she decided the hunters must have moved on, so she relaxed her guard and continued feeding. Once she’d had her fill, she would pick one of the shinbones to take home to the copse.

She expected to feel a lot of things about their decision not to return to the rise, though mostly Masquerade just felt a strong sense of resolve. She and @Riley were no longer adrift, torn between moving forward or turning back. Their path ahead would not be easy, yet she knew she and her mate would do everything in their power to establish a good place to raise their offspring.

She was partial to Shadewood, though she’d told Riley they ought to explore their options a little before making a decision. He had set out on his own today to scout a bit, leaving Masque to wander the woods. She wondered if looking elsewhere was a mistake or, at the very least, a waste of time. This place offered everything they could ever possibly need, as far as she could tell, so why look elsewhere?

Her dark paws carried her toward the center of the forest, where last week’s kill had been reduced to little more than bones and gristle. Masque knew she would find enough scraps to make a square breakfast. She licked her chops, long tail twitching as she walked, only for her entire body to go suddenly still as she detected the scent of an intruder.

Growling under her breath, the gray she-wolf hastened toward the doe’s carcass, making no effort to conceal her approach. When she came upon a large wolf eating their meat, Masquerade planted her feet in the dirt, teeth bared on a thunderous growl. Her ears thrust forward as her tail arched over her back, the picture of a wolf declaring dominance over a kill.

The stranger ignored her. The lack of reaction bewildered Masque, though only for a beat or two. With another savage snarl, she sprang at the stranger’s back.

After setting out on his own for a bit, Riley discovered a series of tracks that lead deep into Shadewood. While they had yet to stake official claim, he followed out of somewhat possessive interest, thinking of Masque and whether she was in danger.

Nah. On second thought, if anyone was in danger it was whoever encountered Masque.

He tracked the footprints closer to the forest, incidentally drawing closer to the corpse. As he got closer his pace quickened — just out of earshot he heard Masque’s thunderous growl.

This was enough for him to press into a full gallop towards the pair.

Towhee didn’t catch movement out of the corner of her eye so much as a strange shifting in the shadows off to her right. Her head snapped in that direction. Now she caught a glimpse of the wolf rushing her rear, an assault which she attempted to avoid by hastily swinging her posterior out of the direct line of attack.

She didn’t succeed. Towhee felt something—teeth or claws, she couldn’t be sure—rake the scar tissue on her back before she could properly whirl. It hurt like a bitch, pulling a scream from Towhee’s mouth. She felt her attacker’s weight dragging on her hindquarters and did the only thing she could: she lashed out with her fangs toward whatever part of the other wolf she could reach at this angle.

The interloper noticed her too late. Masquerade managed to straddle her back with her forelegs. She could’ve easily done damage with her teeth, sinking them into the other wolf’s spine or somewhere somewhere on either flank. Part of her thrilled at the idea of slaying the thieving intruder, though this wasn’t the rise. This land didn’t even properly belong to them. This awareness tempered her somewhat.

Instead, Masque struck for the woman’s scruff, meaning to subdue her. Before she could latch fully, the stranger bent in half to snap at her right foreleg. She managed to grab it, though the angle was too severe to apply enough pressure to break it. Masque hedged on this anyhow, twitching the limb at the searing pain even as she applied most of her focus into yanking the trespasser’s scruff and trying to force her to the ground.

It was a difficult task, given the other woman’s size and strength. Jaws still holding onto her scruff like a steel trap, Masquerade suddenly pivoted her body to the left, so that she straddled that flank. She managed to yank her right foreleg free in the process, albeit painfully. The damaged leg snaked around the other wolf’s torso, holding her in a vice-like grip as she kept pushing her downward.

Riley came upon a tumultuous scene; two wolves whirling in the snow, with Masque blessedly on top.

He saw her directive seemed to be to subdue the wolf — Riley did not even waste time with questions of how or what or why they were physically engaged. He swept towards the dark female with head low, attempting to drag her hips down with his teeth while Masque busied straddling her from the front.

Her grip on the wolf’s leg didn’t last long, though the blood in Towhee’s mouth told her she’d done at least some damage. There was no savoring this small victory, however, as the stranger had an iron grip on her scruff and was relentlessly pushing her to the ground. She wanted to fight back, maybe try to buck off her assailant, but then another wolf joined the first and Towhee knew she was defeated.

She sank down beneath the strange woman’s weight, cursing herself for letting down her guard. Towhee couldn’t even fault these two for acting so territorial over their kill, even if they didn’t have any claim on these lands. She just hoped that acknowledging her mistakes might earn her some mercy. As far as she could tell, they weren’t going for killing blows, so there was hope she wasn’t totally fucked.

Uncle! Uncle! she yelled at the top of her lungs once she was on the ground. -“I fucked up!”- she acknowledged, moving her limbs out of panic more than anything. -“Let me put it to rights,”- she implored, swallowing her dignity.

Riley appeared and, together, they asserted their dominance over the woman. She buckled beneath her and Masque held on tightly, pressing all her weight to keep the other wolf on the ground. Growls rumbled out of her through the folds of flesh and fur in her mouth, her tail swinging up in a severe arch.

Once beaten into submission, the stranger yelled something odd. It wasn’t just her choice of words that was peculiar but the way she said them. Masque tried to catch Riley’s eye, then snarled when the woman shifted beneath her. Her legs were flailing, though not in any aggressive fashion. In fact, the motions reminded her of someone…

At last, Masque loosened her grip, then released it. Hastily, she stepped to the interloper’s front. Every muscle in her body was taut, her fur standing on end. She glared down at the she-wolf, who looked old enough to know better. At least she acknowledged her mistakes in that same uncanny tenor, offering to make things right with several flicks of her limbs.

Masque’s own foreleg throbbed. She resisted the impulse to assess her wound. Instead, she exchanged a glance with her mate as she weighed what to do, what to say. The stranger was older, though she was strong, and Masque’s victory over her sweetened the bitter notes of her indignation.

You will bring us twice as much meat as you took, Masque decided aloud, marigold eyes watching carefully for any further sign language.

Small droplets of blood studded the snow. Riley got a strange sense of deja vu, his eyes trailing to the fresh cut on Masque’s leg.

The stranger buckled, a series of strange gestures and thick words. Given her sheer musculature, he was grateful there were two of them — she was not the kind of wolf he was keen on fighting alone.

He’d let go of her already, but Masque held on a moment longer. His ears folded and he stepped back as she growled and postured, moving only when she released the woman. Riley silently took up the vacant post to Masque’s left, muscles tensed as he waited for the stranger’s reaction to Masque’s edict.

The angle afforded her a direct view of the wound she’d inflicted on the stranger’s foreleg. It was shallow, which was fortunate for both of them. Her eyes cut back toward her face when she spoke, though Towhee made sure not to look up for too long. She was pretty much at their mercy and, besides, she’d fucked up twice over.

-“Yeah, of course,”- she readily agreed to what was truthfully a very forbearing deal. -“Look, I’m sorry for taking what wasn’t mine. I honestly thought you would’ve moved on by now but that was my error in judgment. And,”- she continued, pausing to deliberate whether it was a very bad idea to call attention to this, -“I’m sorry for inflicting that. I know a medic, if you need one.”-

Towhee herself was unmarked, save for perhaps some superficial puncture wounds in her nape that barely hurt. And she supposed she might have some scratches on her back, though they couldn’t be too terrible either. The scar was unusually sensitive, though it only stung a little now. She was lucky if she escaped this unscathed.

But for the moment, she was still at their mercy. Towhee shifted her attention between the two, memorizing what she could. She wondered if they lived here but she didn’t ask, at least for now.

Yes, she was definitely using her forelegs to speak, just like Sable. Masquerade exchanged another glance with Riley, who stood right beside her now. Despite herself, the reminder of the young wolf further smoothed her temper. Her fur flattened, only a little ridge along her backbone remaining raised. Her stature did not otherwise relax.

Keeping her eyes on the woman, she angled her mouth toward Riley to whisper, Her sign language reminds me of Sable’s. In any case, would you care to keep an eye on her while she hunts for us?

Riley studied the swarthy she-wolf as she looked at Masque's leg, and then somewhere nebulous - likely trying to placate the frothing she-wolf that up until two seconds ago, had her life in her teeth.

When she spoke again Riley caught the superfluous motion of her limbs, how her voice was rather heavy, like through a tunnel or worse. He hadn't quite connected the dots until Masque leaned in at a whisper.

He wanted to ask who's Sable? but he sensed now was not the time. Starting with unpleasant surprise to be the chaperone of a woman who could probably round-house flip him into next week, Riley swallowed the wedge in his throat. Oh. Sure. He whispered back, unwilling to take his eyes off of Towhee.

The red-faced she-wolf did not answer her. Towhee’s lips pursed as she kept a careful eye on the pair. There was something furtive about their exchange, though Towhee picked up every word of it from their lips.

You know Sable? she blurted in surprise. He’s my son. Is he around here?

There was a minute hesitation before Riley replied. She wanted to ask him if he was sure, though before she had the chance, their unwelcome guest spoke in that unsettling cadence. Masquerade’s eyes cut to her sharply, a surprised expression drifting across her face before she thought to school her expression.

I do know your son, she said slowly, but no, he didn’t stick around.

All the same, Masque had grown a little fond of the yearling, who reminded her of her own younger brother. Her tail switched like an irritated cat’s as she continued gazing at the dark woman, only now wondering how she’d overhead the whispered exchange.

Between this new information and the hesitation she sensed in her mate, Masquerade abruptly changed her mind. With a click of her teeth and an impatient growl, she lunged into the elder female’s space.

Just—get out, she said, muzzle wrinkling and long tail curling like a scorpion’s ready to strike.

Riley kept his eye on the stalwart stranger as he and Masque exchanged words; he didn’t love the idea of one-on-one with the strange-speaking woman, but if it came to it, he’d do whatever Masque asked.

He was about to say something when the outnumbered female spoke, recognizing the name shared between them; he looked to his mate for guidance as she calculated what to do next.

Suddenly, Masque changed her mind. It was just as well, for Riley — he followed suit by squaring up his stance. His tail was not quite so high as the curled fling of Masquerade’s, but his posture communicated well enough that between the two of them, Towhee had overstayed her welcome.

She couldn’t afford to get hung up on the mention of Sable, though her heart twinged in her chest upon realizing she’d missed him despite this little misadventure. Towhee drew in a breath, awaiting any final words before she and this strange man set off to hunt.

Then the she-wolf surprised her by telling her to get out. Towhee threw up her forepaws and mouthed a silent, “Yup,” as she quickly backed away from the scene. She only faced forward when she was out of range of another attack from behind, then hastily cantered out of Shadewood. She couldn’t hear but she imagined footsteps thudding steadily somewhere behind her.

She considered hunting for them anyway, though once she got the hell out of dodge, Towhee decided not to waste her energy. If she could find any game, it ought to go to Meerkat. She felt a little like a turd for what she’d done but… well, it had been an honest mistake. And she’d taken her lumps. Besides, she sincerely doubted Sable’s fierce friends really needed her restitution.