Firefly Glen keep me hanging on

Tabletop rolls

By the time morning came, Coq is on his feet again. Sleep has return rather easily once meeting another wolf and he can’t help but feel he needs to find somewhere to settle. He doesn’t have the urge to act upon it right away but he knows, deep down, that it is coming. He’ll have to make a decision sooner or later (logically, he knows sooner, but with all the fun he’s having, what’s the rush?) but in the moment he sets all that on the back burner. The even ground of the glen is easy on his tired body versus the mountain terrain he traveled to get by and the rocky quarry. The restful night also gives him a little advantage and this morning, he starts off early.
 
The remains of a rabbit sits off to the side as he licks his lips, then his paws, and cleans away he remnant of blood that may be left. For a while, he finds himself using the glen as a little resting point—aware of the pack to the west—before he continues his travel through the rest of the world.

also dating this be4 saghag thread

 

Hydra had yet to share with her sisters the extent of her frustrations with her crush. Hydra wanted to process it all herself, that and give Rian a chance. Perhaps he wasn't going to leave without saying goodbye? The disappointment she felt was something she also wanted to understand; why she cared so much was truly beyond her ability to comprehend. Perhaps he hadn't wanted to be her friend? It was not as though she had asked... did such a thing need to be asked? Her cheeks flushed as she ranged out toward Bramblepoint, debating finding him. But she stopped herself in her tracks, puffing out her cheeks in a heavy, dramatic exhale. 

The scent of blood distracts her. Before she knows quite what shes doing shes heading in the direction of it, and sees a large wolf—larger than her, anyway, though she wasn't petite by any means—and Hydra notes the slain rabbit beside him. Hydra chuffs to him, gestures to the rabbit, and slides down into a play-bow, slapping her forelegs against the earth with a conspirationally playful growl. I'll spar you for the rest of your rabbit, she offered, her tail swinging over her hindquarters in a wave as she shifted back to a stand with twitching ears. What do you say?

As he’s busy licking at his paws—a mix of cleanliness and soothing the ache in his joints—he’s quickly distracted by the scent of another. The flicker of black crosses his vision and he glances up without moving his head and only slowly raises it when she’s close enough to state her intentions. Her movement is playful, without harm, but he notes the scent of others upon her fur. It resembles that of the pack to the west he’d skirted by on his way here and he wonders if perhaps he’d gotten too close and had been fallen.
 
Still, she gives him an easy option as he looks to the kill of the rabbit. There isn’t much left to it but he does not question why she wants it. Most of the meat is gone, for a lone wolf hunting on his own, and skin and bones and gristle remain uneaten. Coq nods his head after a moment and then picks himself up, carefully, and flags his tail once over his spine. It releases its position and hangs low and he adjusts the rest of his posture. He nudges the kill out of the way and, then, invites the girl to make the first move.

He was game for her, well, game, and Hydra grinned. After setting her own defenses and squaring herself, she circled him loosely and moved to snap at his shoulder. Though she sought a grip, her own eagerness and fear caused little to no purchase to be found in her attack. Hydra did not think of breaking skin as this was but a spar, and she attempted to skirt away from his own next move before deliberating on her own next course of action. Hydra knew that his weight could overcome her own and sought to tire him out, continuing to circle loosely to make no target a particularly easy one.

She needs no further invitation for the spar and her body moves quickly—her age is on her side—and a grin forms on his face. He watches her circle and he turns in line with her, watching, squaring his posture for when she finally does move in. Her jaws come snapping and she aims for his shoulder but only the front of her teeth pinch the skin as he turns his head to try and ward her off. Fresh blood doesn’t fill the air and he’s certain she didn’t break skin—unlikely to be the case—and it had only been a pinch of pain that lasted but a few measly seconds.

He words next on orienting himself, finding her circle him with an agility he’s seen in the younger wolves. He has brute force and size behind him and so when her circling is close enough, he charges with the intent to knock her off her feet.

Her excitement of landing anything causes her to be foolish. She gets close, and when she does is when he makes his move. Hydra, lithe and lean, moves to evade him with a swift sprint to attempt to outmaneuver him and get to his right—but his shoulder connects with her own. She stumbles but is swift to regain her footing, knowing a wolf off their feet is a wolf in danger and—her fangs near his hindquarters—her fangs again seek purchase. The mark does not hit true, her own misstep coupled with movements of his own likely the culprit. Hydra does not stop moving for a moment, ranging around him now in an even looser circle, moving swiftly around him and this time being more mindful of her proximity to him.

Her agility gives her favor and as he feels the force from his shoulder into her dark fur, she stumbles back. Instead of falling all the way to the ground, she stumbles back a few steps and loses her traction on the ground beneath her. It does not go without retaliation as teeth connect with his hip but her balance isn’t secure enough for another to do any damage, a mere pinch of his skin once more. He snorts, spinning around to grasp at something of hers in return. He barely gets his teeth around on anything and pulls at the fur on her tail without the fleshy center to anchor her to him. She bounds off, circling him once more as he spins, anticipating another attack.

Her success again gets to her head. Hydra, now near his rear end, decides to pivot turn to remain there and lunge for his hindquarters, wanting to get a firm grip of one. Her jowls are wide, and when they close they click down upon nothing but air. The resounding snap shocks her to temporary, disappointed stillness—a large mistake, on her own part, though she seeks to move out of the trajectory of his bodyweight. Teeth would be preferred.

She’s gotten a few minor hits in which have done little to give her anymore advantage. The pain is gone in seconds. All he has done is knock her off her balance but as she aims once more for his rear, he moves forward with a sudden burst of speed. Behind him, he hears the click of teeth, and he rolls his head around with a smirk, spinning on his heels. Even though she tries to back pedal out of there, his aim is quick and he reaches out with open jaws to clamp down on her muzzle. His grip is more for control rather than to inflict pain or damage and he uses that to pull her close enough for his next move.

Hydra recognizes that she is too late in her backpedaling, and as she sees his jaws close in toward her face Hydra thinks of her father. She is swift enough to lunge forward, to counterattack as best she could by hurting him (if she could) as he gunned for her muzzle. Though the wound smarted when his fangs met the area with not much flesh, he did release promptly—Hydra then bolted toward his rear again to give him a wider berth than before, thinking of her next attack as she circled and watchful for his own. She kept her distance and moved all the faster, encouraged by her bloodied muzzle to avoid body and fang both as she sought some sort of weakness other than his slowness to exploit. Because despite his weakness, his attacks were strong and powerful when they landed; her own moves were juvenile at best, but she did not know how to up her own ante. She'd ask him after all this was over what he would suggest she do with her stature. 

pp consent given!

When the girl is close enough, Coq releases his grip and before he gets a chance to do anything, she nips at his hindquarters again. He feels teeth, and a slight tear in skin, but it is hardly enough before she backs away as he flashes his teeth in her direction. His teeth chatter against one another as he comes up emptyhanded once more, her agility on her side. With all the sudden effort on his tired body, his mouth parts and he begins to pant heavily. He backs up a few steps, eyes narrowing on her form and dances a few paces bath and forth in waiting.

His fangs miss their mark upon her to her relief; she is swift enough to avoid his blows. As he paces nearer to her, and she circles around him for a third time, Hydra this time aims to nip the other side of his hindquarter, the move rough. She hopes for even a second of purchase but she knew that lingering for too long a time would only be to her detriment. Hydra retreats by dashing swiftly alongside him instead of backpedaling as she had foolishly done before, but she is careful to bound away from the reach of his fangs as she circles again, tail lashing. Her muzzle dripped with her own blood, but it dribbled slowly.

They continue their dance a little longer. She goes for his hindquarters a third time and misses, feeling nothing but the wind against his fur. He moves away from her grasp as she darts off, ensuring her teeth do not touch him, but as he aims for her shoulder before she gets away, he misses, but takes a second to snap his teeth against her flank. It is a weak hold and her movement causes him to pull away, but he manages to get a vile taste in his mouth from fur and a tinge of blood again. A little disoriented from the move, and running on exhausted time, he lazily finds her out of reach.

Hydra was frustrated when she felt his fangs land upon her, and doubled back swiftly, moving again to his rear end. This, despite her previous failure, seemed to be her area of also great sucess... though it truly was equaled out at this point. Disoriented herself, Hydra sought to grip his hindquarter once more, swinging her hips away and retreating as quickly as she had come, hoping to get out of his reach and licking her bloodied muzzle as she continued to maintain her defenses.

When she charges in a half circle, he barely has the energy to get out of the way. He moves, just enough to avoid anything serious but the prick of her teeth on his rump causes a streak of something warm and wet. She’d taken another successful bite but pulling away prevented any real harm. He snaps his head around to grabs something—anything—but once more clicks teeth upon teeth when he misses. The skill in the youngster gives him surprise, sure that he would have come out on top, but he’s far more fatigued than he’d let on, even to himself. This time, instead of standing still, he moves his feet away from her, hovering off to the side.

Realizing that this maneuver had worked the previous time, Hydra again rushed him as he flagged. Her youth made her nearly inexhaustible (though she could not deny the tremble in her limbs and the aches she had been given throughout this spar), but terribly reckless and foolish. Every attack, successful or failed, was a lesson. As she moved for him, Hydra—with her eyes squinted and lobes flattened, and for good measure chin tucked—used the momentum her continuous movement gave to her and sought to unbalance him as he had her. Her weight alone could not do it, and so she used her fangs to grip and push simultaneously with the weight of her body. She felt a great pressure upon her scruff, and just as she saw him stumble and fall she felt the weight of him also cost her the same thing she had paid for her attack.

If the other is tired, Coq doesn’t see it. He focuses on her face, watching where her mind goes before she lunges. Perhaps it is the only thing to give him the advantage because the moment she goes for his leg, he stiffens and braces for impact. He doesn’t have enough time to skirt away and her teeth latch on, causing him to wince and snarl in response, but he lowers his head to take advantage of her position. His teeth latch on to her scruff in the same moment he begins to lose his balance, stumbling back on three legs and ultimately losing his balance. Coq does not relinquish her grip, however, and instead clenches enough to pierce skin once more and take her to the ground with him.

They tumble, and fall in a way that is most uncomfortable for her. She clings to his leg, snarling as his weight presses downward, and tries to press all the harder upon his leg to get him to yield or relent. But her own grip had not been as true as she desired it to be, try as she might to hold on. Hydra did not attempt to savage or break the limb, simply keep hold, and attempted to kick a flailing leg at another of his legs in the hopes to truly knock him truly over.

They scramble together a few seconds longer, the pain on his leg increasing while another of hers flails around. He growls, this time more threateningly than he had before, and gives her a solid warning before he finally manages to rip his leg away. The grip on her scruff is not released until he gives a slight shake of his head, forcing her to the ground while he uses the chance to prop himself back up. When he’s certain she’s beneath him and in no place to move for another attack, he lets go and shuffles back out of reach. Tired, his chest heaves for air and his tongue lolls out of the side of his mouth to see if the girl has finally given up the title of winner.

Hydra released when he tugged, not wanting to damage her own teeth in the process, and as he pushes her against the earth she lets out a growl of defeat and disappointment—the eye not squished against the dirt eyed the rabbit she'd been fighting for, and she huffed. The whine is a low, groaning sound, and when he retreats Hydra stands and shakes the dirt off of her. Any advice for me, for the future? Any imparting knowledge he could give her would be appreciated; far more valuable than the rabbit, too. Her tail waved jovially. Despite her loss, Hydra felt that even beyond what he may not tell her she had learned a lot.

After she submits her loss, she does not try to go again. Instead, she picks herself up and wags her tail, asking for tips, and a smirk crosses his form. It is odd to spar with another that he does not know, from a pack not his own. She could have tried to do more damage—as could he—but they came out on the other side without much lost. She doesn’t win the rabbit but he turns to look at it, knowing he won’t do much else with it. Before he answers her question, he turns and picks up the carcass, tossing the remains in her directions.
 
“You have the talent,” he tells her with a beat of his tail, licking at the leg she’d pierced with her teeth and cleaning up the blood left there. “Focus on your attacks. You’re very fast but you are too flighty when it comes to the actual fight,” he explains. When she got close, she did not get close enough to really bite and hold on to anything. Her speed will always been in her favor when she needs to get away, or avoid an attack, but there will always need to be offense. Coq heaves a long sigh and sits down, unable to hide his exhaustion.

Hydra's own tail beats against the earth as he offers her the rabbit anyway, as well as some sage advice. His words made her grin, happy to hear them come from one who did not know her. She had been working on her endurance a lot lately, making her less winded—but she could do with learning how to do offense better. I don't really know how to properly spar wolves bigger than me yet. I get nervous about getting too close for too long, because that'd be to their advantage, making any potential attacks that struck true all the more dangerous if she were near enough to grab anything. Maybe he had some advice for her there—a better way to go against adversaries threatening her with their weight. While Hydra wasn't scrawny (and was even on the tall side of average), she was lean and svelte rather than broad and boxy.

“Practice,” he tells her but he also knows he doesn’t have to. She seems to have practiced a lot up until this point and felt comfortable enough to take him on. “Bigger wolves have power behind them, but not all of them. Find their weakness and use it. Your speed benefits you there, I could barely keep up. Find your balance in closeness and you’ll be able to get better hits in,” he says, hoping it is enough to satisfy the need to learn. He’d much rather get some rest after that, sure that his joints will ache by the end of the day. “My name is Coq, by the way.”

His words intrigued her. All big wolves had their weaknesses. She supposed every wolf in general had their weakness. Hers, at present, was her own fear holding her back. After experiencing true pain, and knowing how easy it could be for one large wolf to overtake another not their own size, Hydra was perhaps too wary. Even in her reckless moments she had been that way. She could afford to take more risks... so long as they weren't with the wrong wolf. The other wolf named himself then, and Hydra smiled. Hydra, she introduced. Thanks for the advice. And the spar. Where are you headed? How do you feel about mountains? He was a good fighter; she bet her dad might appreciate that... and Hydra, selfishly, enjoyed his company and his capabilities. He could train her, or something, if he wanted. He appeared tired so after he got some rest. She figured for his favor(s) she could offer him one of her own—if he even liked mountains.

They’ve exchanged their names and friendly gestures and Coq gives her another smile. He’s thankful he ate beforehand, knowing he’ll feel the ache in his bones in the morning (if not later tonight) and he’ll take a little while to his self. Still, it got him moving again and his confidence from his brief, lonely life began to restore. She may be young, but she has the skill to turn into something greater.
 
“I’m not really headed anywhere,” he comments, feeling the free range over the last little while. He misses somewhere reliant to rest his head but he still enjoys the freedom of seeing things he’s never seen before and, if he settles down, may never see again. “And I was born on a mountain and lived there most my life, until recently,” he says after a beat though he can’t help but wonder—with her timing—if she has another meaning behind her words than simple conversation.