Hoshor Plains Even When Your Asleep

The golden coyote explored the golden grasses of Hoshor Plains today.  Her narrowed eyes scanned the land admiringly.  This really was quite the enjoyable spot indeed.  She blended in pretty well for camouflage, it was pretty warm out today and due to the openness of the plains the sun was able to warm her without any blockades, such as trees or bushes.  As Lumar strolled through the area she began to wonder how Judas and Crius were fairing... well she didn’t exactly care for their health all that much... or maybe she cared for Judas’s a bit, but not Crius’s all that much.  For specific reasons. Still she was curious as to how there business in destroying and spying was going.  

Lumar also began to wonder if that terrible female that she meet at the fruit place had really snitched on her.  Maybe Lumar really did deserved it, but of course she of all beings would never in a million years admit that.  As her legs grew tired from walking and pacing endlessly around the fields as she thought, the female sat down, inhaling a deep breath and then letting out a tired, worn out sigh.

On a particularly strong gust of wind a heady scent caused the white wolf to stop in her tracks, her muzzle tilted silently in the direction of the fluttering gale. A coyote. Pallas lifted her head, siphoning the cold air into her glistening black nostrils. Definitely coyote.

Wordlessly she sussed out the location of the thing; before long she saw it, tawny and little lying in the the dirt. With a growl she stepped towards it, her tail fluttering behind her and her proud head held at an arrogant height. She was not about to allow some weedy thing to encroach upon her dining grounds without invitation.

Lumar spun around at the sound of a ground and wasn’t surprised to find out what creature had made the noise; a wolf.  It was actually quite the arrogant thing, holding it’s head high in the air proudly, tail waving behind it.  So she did one of the worst things that she could have done.  Instead of cowering or running, she decided to return the growl.  A low rumbling tone seeped from her throat, threateningly like an eagle’s talons.  She stood up and looked the creature straight in the eyes.

“Hey, what’s your problem.”  The coyote growled.  “What did I do to you?  Huh?”  Lumar’s tail lashed, she was wasting time standing here.  She began to turn around to walk away, still growling, but she made sure to keep one eye still on the wolf.  Just in case the wolf got any ideas...

As close as Pallas was, she was not yet close for even a long range attack. There was still at least twenty feet to cover, and the shewolf pressed ahead at a clipped pace. Her hackles rippled and she continued forward, her ears cupped ahead in authoritative expression. The coyote was quick to rise, though she made one mistake: growling.

Pallas' ears flew forward in an aggressive display and she bounded towards the thing, her tail bouncing over her hips and every tuft of her bedraggled fur flared. How dare this little thing growl at her? The Stormthorn's upper lip lifted in derision and her gums curled back in a snarl. She kept her head high and stalked stiffly after the coyote as it started walking away.

This was just great.  Lumar suddenly began to notice how crazy she had been to growl at this thing.  Of course Lumar normally thought of herself as creative, a pretty good  improviser, and by far highly intelligent.  The coyote actually thought well of herself, but when that creepo wolf came barreling up to her she almost instantly turned tail and ran.

Everyone had a breaking point and this was Lumar's.  A scary, angry wolf that probably wanted to kill her.  Although she was still going to be stubborn enough to growl still.  The deep throaty sound slipping out of her throat as the coyote ran.

Out of hunger and sheer curiousity, Pallas trailed the coyote. Where would it go? Did it have a home? Was it part of some secret coyote coven? These questions needed answering. Her head was held low as she stalked after it, though she had no real intention to attack the animal. She had never cared for coyotes, and she was sure no coyote had ever cared for her. As far as Pallas was concerned, they competed with her for food. The little thing had continued its' escape, growling all the while as it did so. She imagined the growls were to keep her at bay, and it worked: if only because she had no interest in injuring herself over a coyote.

Lumar continued to growl.  Didn’t this wolf get the big picture already?  She was supposed to leave, get away, leave her alone.  Her lip peeled back angrily exposing her sharp pearly whites.  She suddenly spun around, starring daggers into the wolf.  “Back off or things are gonna get a little personal.”  She growled.  Of course Lumar knew she would never have even the slightest chance of defending herself against a full grown wolf, but the wolf didn’t know that.  She really hoped that this crazy plan worked.  If not... well she was going to be in a lot of trouble with pain and possibly death.

The growls continued, as did Pallas' slow trialing of the coyote's departure. Without warning it spun around to face her, its narrow muzzle crinkling in a snarl. Pallas' head and neck jerked back in surprise and her ears flew forward. She was taken aback and a furrow of hackles rose along her spine. She stopped, stiff legged with her tail flung over her head in a dominating gesture. She didn't answer the coyote -- instead her hazel eyes sought its own, her broad and hefty muzzle wrinkling in an equally savage and formidable snarl.

Lumar continued to snarl.  “Leave now or I will kill you mercilessly.”  She snarled in a threatening voice.  Her words of a lie that even she knew sounded true though with a touch of manipulation slipped into them.  Yet who knew, there were special ones out there who could see through even the toughest of manipulation.

She stood still, her tail flicked up standing upright with equal dominance and her eyes stared boldly and coldly into the white furred wolf’s eyes.  If this wolf didn’t leave Lumar still would attack.  Even if she did go down in the fight she would make sure that this wolf was sorry.

Pallas had no intention of leaving, and it was writ clear across her face. The heightened posture of the coyote was reciprocated by her own outlandishly furnished tail: she lifted her chin and her blackened gums collapsed upwards in a fine display of what every one of her hooked teeth looked like. There would be no retreat from Pallas: she remained stock still save for the rising flare of her hackles. Her defensive posture seemed to suggest Lumar was welcome to attack, but she was not going to obey the commands of what she believed was an inferior species. She laughed: does the worm tell the bird to back off? Or the sparrow the hawk? In what world did a coyote bid rule over the wolves? She remained, her expression unafraid.

Lumar was young.  She did not understand the world fully and that was her true flaw.  She thought that nothing could touch her.  Although she held fear and was scared of death, she didn't think that she could ever really die.  The coyote was young, rebellious and in some ways a little bit of a psychopath.  

"Je vous dit ne pas à me tester."  She whispered fiercly in her own language.  It was then that she sprang at the wolf, pearly whites flashing.  Lumar was done with being trailed, so in a summary pure anger had simply settled into her heart.

The spry thing turned and lunged at Pallas, perhaps finally reaching the conclusion of its patience. Pallas thought the attack unprovoked, but any outside eye would have found Lumar blameless in her act of self-defense. Pallas sprung back in surprise, a crippling snarl wrinkling her blemished muzzle. She did not pursue the thing, though her tail lashed in agitation above her lips like a cat's. "Try that again." The pale hunter suggested, her tone dark and full of promise.

She missed.  Although Lumar did not want to admit it, that was probably a good thing.  As the challenge now hung in the air for Lumar to try that again and probably get mauled to death in the process was tempting to Lumar.  Sadly as much as some probably would have wanted Lumar to except that challenge and probably bruatly die or suffer from serious injuries Lumar had just enough sense to do the opposite.

Using her lithe, quick frame, Lumar turned and tried to run away, hoping that this would go unporvoked.  She now knew to stay away from this wolf in future.  Never again would she willingly on her terms cross paths with this white pelted wolf again.

Pallas' lower lip curled, exposing a yellowed array of sharp teeth. Lumar was testing her will for life by engaging with such a wretched wolf, and while Pallas was not aware she played the harridan, she was aware that blood would be shed shortly if Lumar did not neutralize her position. Just as she expected the little thing to strike it turned, moving at a fleet pace Pallas had no hope of matching. She lifted her head coldly and watched the canine slink off until she was well out of sight. The Stormthorn had no reason to follow, and realizing she was quite hungry the wolf altered her course down towards Otter Creek.

thanks for the thread!