Haunted Wood the same tragedies: ultimate damnation

the scent of verapaz had been throughly washed from his coat, until the sandviper smells of nothing but the sharp tang of desert blooms and oasis musks. he'd been careful, methodical in his methods ... and once he was sure that he carried only the desert's mark upon him did he set off, heading inland; trading the comforting grit of sand that he blended so very well into for the forests and meadows.

he moves through the shadowed woodland, trying and failing to shrug off the eerie feeling that he was being watched — by the living or those lingering within the ether he could not be sure — as he tracks a small deer herd; also methodical. it was coincidence but coincidence that he uses to his advantage as he draws nearer enough to the caldera's borders to deduce what he can from their borders.

the small herd of five does not seem all that perturbed by the pack living just next door and lingers to the side of the woodlands that walls their borders. a boon for the sandviper as he lingers beneath the guise of tracking the herd, shadowing the ungulates to keep him close the caldera, trying not to raise suspicion, as the herd grazes without care.

From a distance his coat seemed familiar, and yet the scent wasn't quite right. Leto told herself as she watched that she was only homesick.

Nonetheless it was not the stranger who interested her, but the deer. She had three mouths to feed now, and one of them would certainly do the job. Keeping her distance from what she assumed to be a tracker as well as the herd, she hoped that he might be a willing hunting partner.

Are you planning to hunt, or are you just deer-watching? She did her best to keep a hush to her voice, without being too difficult to hear.

the hushed voice of the woman reaches his ears, silverbound gaze already drawn upon her approach. a flick of left ear is given; quiet contemplation his adopted mask as he lets her question hang in the air between them. the herd was not his purpose here; simply a veiled front. a distraction. an illusion. and she did not smell of the pack that lingered nearby.

that didn't mean that she couldn't provide him with useful information.

issaros, greets the sandviper, falling into his native tongue having gone without speaking it for sometime now. i was just tracking them today, the sandviper shatters his silence, deep timbre pitched low. not a whisper but not it's usual volume either, settling somewhere in the between; a convenient lie spun effortlessly from his lips. it felt too easy, like swallowing oilslick despite that he knew it might hold consequences.

they might belong to the pack that claims the caldera, a gesture towards their claim with his muzzle. and though i have not yet been chased from the herd, it has stayed my paw.

She gives a 'tsk' at his response, turning her head towards the caldera below. A herd shouldn't belong to anyone. Besides, most of them can't hear. It was more than likely some pettiness speaking, of course.

Leto took the risk of moving closer, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. Come on, I'm sure you're at least a bit hungry if you've been tracking all day. She insisted. Won't a bit of risk make the hunt a little more fun?

Tail swishing behind her, she waited for what she hoped would be an agreeable response. If the deer did happen to belong to Redhawk Caldera.. well, the meat would taste just a little bit better than usual.

though dracarys does not disagree with her, he also knows that it doesn't necessarily always work like that. if the herd roams what the pack considers hunting grounds outside their own claim ... they were not free game. because he enforced such territoriality and at times, cruelty: chasing off the hungry at his father's command many a time. though her added words that most of them — he takes to mean the caldera — was curious.

it draws the sandviper's attention more than it should; digging through the veil of herd watching to disguise his true purpose here to nestle into him. a piece of information to take back to kemal.

dracarys deliberates. helping her hunt would help to sell the lie and keep his chosen cover intact. hmph, grumps the sandviper, albeit a bit playfully. you're a bad influence, i can tell. a small twitch of his ear belays the ghost of a grin tugging at the edges of his lips.

fine. he eventually resigns.

Leto's smile is coy, her wagging tail betraying her joy. I like the company it brings. She confesses half-heartedly. It had to be at least somewhat true with all of the trouble she had gotten into over the past year or so.

Now that they are partners for the moment, Leto closes the distance to watch the herd with him. You've been watching them longer than me, she eyes him, waiting to see where he is looking, which do you think is the weakest? There were only two of them, and though they were both larger wolves (him especially), Leto knew it wasn't worth going after the massive stag or a well fed doe when sick and aging elders were present. If they had hunted together before, Leto might have considered it, but she couldn't know how well they would work together.

Will you tell me your name? She asks suddenly, realizing that in her eagerness to hunt she hadn't bothered with introductions. I'm Leto.

silverbound gaze is cast out to the herd once more as he draws in a deep breath and holds it before letting it out in a slow exhale. there's one in the middle. a little grizzled looking, dracarys points out the doe with a gesture of his muzzle, confident that leto could follow his line of sight. she's elderly. has a serious limp. they've arranged themselves around her. but when the beasts would begin to hunt in true, dracarys is confident they would scatter. self-preservation was a strong motivator.

i say she should be our mark. he decides.

his gaze breaks from the herd to trail back to her — leto, she introduces herself as — when she inquires on his name. dracarys. speaks the sandviper.

Leto follows his gaze with careful consideration, spotting the doe. I see her. When the chase began the deer would scatter, and she would fall behind.

Well Dracarys, she speaks his name in an effort to take note, let's start the chase before you change your mind. Flashing a grin, Leto took off without another word.

Starting at a trot, she kept her distance from the herd who had already been keeping eyes on the pair of wolves. Now, the usual chirps were sounding out through it.

frostbound gaze lingers on their quarry; ear flicking towards leto as she speaks. a low snort leaves the sandviper's nostrils. i won't change my mind. dracarys assures her, crouching down into the tall grasses.

dracarys watches as leto begins in a trot, and he begins his own stalking, bringing up the rear. his gaze fluctuates between their quarry and the others, looking for any indication they were going to have to put up a fight.

a low growl rumbles in his chest; a warning. the herd knows they were there now, there was no sense in hiding. he breaks off, trotting 'round the herd: intending to corral the doe towards leto.

There are enough deer that Leto supposes the ungulates could fight off the pair of wolves, but the herd flees instead.

Leto snaps at legs, urging the rest ahead whilst Dracarys corrals the weak doe towards her. She's been seperated with the expected ease, but when the doe notices her companions taking off ahead she is quick to swerve, skid, and follow.

Thanks to the efforts of Dracarys, she's able to catch up to the doe and latch onto a leg. Eyes looking back to the man, Leto hopes he'll catch up before she's kicked off.

dracarys hadn't intended to make the kill — he hadn't been the one who'd wanted to actually hunt any of the herd; but it seemed, as he watched the pandemonium as their target heads in the direction he'd hoped with the snap of his teeth at her rump, leto had latched onto her leg.

the doe lets out a mournful cry, the rest of her herd scattered to the wind.

best not to let her suffer longer.

dracarys surges forth, strong jaws latching upon her neck; making her death quick. when she stills, the sandviper finally lets her go, taking a few steps back to catch his breath, gaze flickering to his companion with a small gesture of his muzzle in a 'go ahead' manner. she could eat as much as she wished, he would take a few strips afterwards.