The Bracken Woods Night of the Red Moon

The red moon sat in the sky, lonely amongst the hidden stars as the overcast sky swelled. It looked like rain was coming, even the scent of moisture was in the air as the clouds rumbled somewhere over the south towards Frostfire Ridge, clearly they were heading this way and it wouldn’t be long before they arrived. The night time storms were the most dangerous, likely formed by fronts that came down from the north but this one was approaching from the south. An oddity on the wind for this time of year was typically clear, just a random storm or so it seemed. It was getting late, any wolf with a head on their shoulders would have found shelter hours earlier, but not this one. This one was lost, though he knew exactly where he was. 

But where was here exactly? 

A darkened forest with little to call a game trail, covered in ravenous weeds wielding needles - this was no place indeed. Though still, he stood atop a fallen log, it was rotten and moist beneath his pads, the moss inflecting his fur with the wetness of its work. He stood alone, staring into the distance where the rain drops conjured and the winds sprang up to assail all within reach. Twitching, his nose caught the scent of something peculiar and his ears moved in order to seek out this new occurrence. The smell was rife with copper and a lick to the air tasted blood. He was young, sure enough, but even he could identify the smell of a wounded animal. 

With keen senses, extremely keen compared to most, he captured the scent trail. If there was food to be had then he would find it and hopefully before that storm hit for if it did then once more he would go hungry - the rain and wind would wash away the trail and whatever wounded animal had given him their flavor, it would be gone forever. 

His belly quaked and rumbled, when had he last eaten? Somewhere in the far north, if he could remember right. A riverbed where he’d scavenged the remnants off of an ursa’s meal. It was pithy, the good meats were gone leaving only fat, grizzle and bones to crunch on, but he’d filled his belly and managed another day. Unfortunately though ever since he’d been traveling through this wood, lurking in the shadows and trying his utmost to seek the daylight beyond. This place was a far cry more strange than where he’d come from - far south and to the east of here where the salt filled the air and the brine mixed in the water though it was humid and damp, a marshland of sorts and then as the young pup, for reasons he didn’t understand, he recalled moving the long trail into the tall hills where food became scarce though they’d managed a living of sorts. 

Then as the moons passed by and he became nimble on his feet, the pack had sank to low numbers and with few hunters to feed the pack, as an adolescent he’d been charged to join a hunt only to return to the horrors of a scene of battle’s aftermath. During their move they’d found themselves in the territory of another large and territorial pack, they’d shown no mercy - killing the males and females and eating the remaining pups. On that night there had also been a red moon in the sky, hiding behind the clouds. He knew it was the way of things, but moving on had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done. There was no revenge to be had - a pack well outnumbering the hunters left within his own couldn’t hope to overcome the odds. Instead they were chased from those lands and scattered into the wilderness abroad. He knew very well that he would never see any of the remnants of his pack. He was on his own and there was only one way to go - forward. 

With nothing left to go back to and nowhere to turn, Redmoon would seek the only thing he knew. Survival in the vagabond’s way.

Anubis kept forward in the foul unfurl of the Cold Sun. It was a lovely night, and while he couldn't fancy the night as much as the day, as the chill of a Dayless night slipped between the short hairs of his coat, this night was a wonderous one. The young Prince appreciated it for it's uncanny beauty, forgiving it for the unfair heat absence.

For most of all, this night reigned supreme by it's fertility. Bloodmoon's were notorious for either harboring misfortune, or blessings. A rain was awash, light mist raising the humidity tricefold, and as this would bore evil on typicalities, Anubis praised the scent enhancer. It would better the chance of coming across a meal.

Having nothing to fear, the handsome Tri-Year went about sniffing the wet air for just something, anything, that would prove him right. His slender muzzle came with a snort four minutes later, as within it's sensory, a new aroma arose. Another wolf.

Champagne laced jewels scanned the presented sights, and locked onto a form that stood upon the top of what appeared to be a log. Anubis did not know much of this area, but simply from breathing, he could taste the natural perfume of botanary decay, vines at work and moss pairing with lichens to take what boquet finery nature offered it.

The golds kept on the lupine as he made his way closer, and Anubis wondered if this one too, was looking to take down a meal. Too easy his long limbs cut the distance between he and his company, and with a melodious voice most men were not graced to obtain, Anubius announced himself to the one who had bore title of the Cold Sun.

"Have you too come seeking feeding, friend?"

Sound came before smell and sight, he’d been approached from downwind and to the credit of the advancing wolf for not much escaped the keen senses of Redmoon. Eyes of green lashed out to his flank to spot the approaching apex predator, a cold dark coat with shining cool yellow eyes told their own story though this was no ambush - if it had been then Redmoon would likely be sitting on his back right now in a pool of his own expanding fluids. No, this individual held other intentions. Redmoon himself was not a hostile nature though he was wary and untrusting of others for very good reason. 

Meeting the gaze of the newcomer he bristled at the shoulders and narrowed his eyes with ears easing a bit. He was fully alert and aware though not showing hostile intent. He did not flash his fangs in challenge either for he could already tell that this one was longer in the tooth, if one thing Redmoon knew, was that experience came with age and experience meant one’s worth in a measure of survivability. This one was an aged hunter of athletic build, strong and lean. A match for Redmoon and when reality came to call, he knew that a fruitless fight out here in unknown territory only to get wounded would lead to a short life indeed. 

No, he needed to remain standing tall and in order to do that, learning was in order. Lessons of his past spoke already of lessons learned. A good tracker will hunt and kill well, those who kill well would eat well. A strong fighter could protect oneself, protection meant survivability. But most of all, it was the strong that truly ruled. May it be through strength of martial prowess or the ways of the mind. Only the strong wielded the right to stand tall among the lesser beings and as a stranger here in the wood, he was weak and needed experience desperately. For the weak were destined to serve the strong. 

Redmoon vowed he would not remain as weak. Weakness had found his family dead to a strong pack. Proof in the ways of life. 

The air thickened as the two eyed one another and the faint mist of the coming rain sprinkled a covering for them. Redmoon winced, time was growing short. Once the rain came then the hunt would be over and he would go hungry… again. He drew in the scent of this one and took it to memory, this traveler was one to remember in the future. 

Finally the stranger spoke, he mentioned ‘friend.’ Friend was a term used to signify one whose trust was gained. This was not so for Redmoon. He eyed his ‘friend,’ and understood that to send this one away was to go on the hunt alone. Should his prey prove to be a large animal then there was no way Redmoon could take it down on his own. This one could prove himself useful. Quickly Redmoon thought - if he took this one along then he could watch him and learn from his obvious talents where age had blessed him and together they could ensnare the fate of whatever they so desired for he seemed a sizable predator, larger than Redmoon but not by much. 

Silently the decision was made and Redmoon dismounted the log and softly padded over to the darker male. Redmoon’s fiery red ears and muzzle contrasted with the darker pelt though his body began to blend while remaining a crimson tint. He came within a generous range and relinquished his tense stance, tail lifted a bit though it did not wave, there was no happiness here. “Aye.” He replied, his voice was rough though held the smoothness of a youth, confidence was there, a strong confidence. 

“The wind speaks and blood is in it. Have you come to feed?” He leaned in, trying to look a hair taller, “Or is this your game alone?” While not truly dominant, Redmoon was no coward. He would take his beating if needs be. Though he had a good feeling here, this wolf’s scent did not match that of the area so this was likely not his hunting grounds though if it was and if he delivered a challenge, Redmoon would give him the way.

Anubis watched, luminescent suns lightly following the figure he had not had the oppertunity to see within a closer light becoming clearer as he neared. The company cleared the distance between them with ease, deep strokes of limb cooperation illustrating the capabilities this one held. With appreciative eyes, the Prince of Sekket visually took in the pallet of scarlets that he could decipher in the loom of the night, crimsons at play with hints of garnets and coal at play within the younger wolf's fur.

They sized eachother up, the two year making a distinct attempt at being a height superior, though without fail Anubis's ears denied the pleasure. Slim face front with the stalks of his auds pointed upon the Red Wolf, respectfully the Egytian sent his nares forward a bit, a smidge of lean towards the fellow, obtaining any other information the first whiff had not allowed. Mateless, and alone, this one. Male, and within adequate health. Light swishes of a tail against relaxed hocks conveyed his assessment was of no harm or vile show.

Fully the voice was branded to the wolf before him, as Anubis memorized such sound. Unique to this one, and this one, alone. Responding prompt in fashion, the Sekket murmured back with his lightly accented voice, "Indeed the wind holds blood, yet soon it will be ruined with Wet. We must beat the Sky to the spill."

Anubis had indeed considered taking to snagging small prey, yet they seemed to be nowhere, as they inhabited lower portions of their dug in homes to escape the coming storm. So his mind had seemingly been made up for him.

"The small prey have submerged until the storm has rested. Larger prey fear less; they will meet our fangs, sooner if we are together."

The onyx tri-year personally felt better on hunting with someone rather than solo, as it increased chance of hitting larger game. However, this was the drive of all wolves, was it not?

There was no doubt about it, this dark haired wolf was wise and could think, best to have an acquaintance that could think for himself than to have one unable to lick his chops without biting his tongue. No, this one was as keen as Redmoon, if not the sharper. Of the same line of thought, there was one thing left to do as they both knew time was of the essence - hunt. While every instinct within the red furred lupine screamed not to do so, Redmoon delivered his new ‘friend’ a moment of trust - he turned his back once the alliance had been formed and he gave flight to his feet. He leapt nimbly back up to his rotten perch and lifted his nose to the wind, twitching and waiting. 

Copper was still in the air and he could taste it well, the tang was strong though fading, clue that whatever their prey be it was moving away which in turn meant it was still on its feet. ‘Good,’ Redmoon mused, ‘to track fallen prey is no honorable kill. Perhaps we’ll have good sport after all. Though there is but one conclusion here.’ He glanced back to his dark furred companion, ‘We shall eat well tonight.’ A slight breeze twisted through the leaves and Redmoon caught the scent of the waning trail. His muscles flexed, his pose tensed, ears flattened and finally he gave a vicious snarl - flashing his fangs with intensity, eager for the hunt. 

Springing from the log he gave himself a good headstart only to land and sling debris in his wake. It was time to make the distance between their pray short. The shrubbery here held claws and they scrapped Redmoon’s shoulders as he passed through them. Suddenly made aware of the danger within the greens he made double sure that to avoid such cuts would be wise for there was no sense in letting the flora get the best of him. Trees blurred by in a wave as his lope carried him through an easy gallop. This was not a full out run, he needed his concentration for the scent trail and falling in a hole or a stumble would ruin his balance and show his new companion that he may as well be a clumsy youth. A sign of weakness that Redmoon refused to allow. 

He raced ever onwards and took in the smells of the forest. The moist departure of natural integrity giving way to the foul decay of the undergrowth. It smelled of fir and pine, though it gave off a tint of density that recalled in Redmoon’s mind as a thicket ahead. His nose caught the edge of a fresh water creek in the far distance though without proper scouting he’d not find it this night. Birds and other mediocre prey were bedding down for the storm and the night. They were likely passing a plethora of small game though they would have no fortune in digging them out of their dens, the rain would not be kind once it caught them out in the open regardless if they were beneath the canopy of the conifer trees or not. 

Over a log he leapt, graceful and steady on his feet as he landed to continue and dodge the setting of several stumps. Vines were becoming thick here and so Redmoon took a gently curve to the northeast to avoid them. They traveled up a lazy hillside and at this point the darkness of night had fully crept in and laid a cooling blanket over the earth. A brief split in the clouds then shed the light of the red moon down upon them and it caught his peripheral. Now at a moment of rest he opened his maw to breathe a slight pant as he took a short glance into the bold moon above. 

The nature of a full moon made prey all the more difficult to catch though the blood moon would add a measure of fight to their instinct. This prey would not be an easy one to take down though he was certain that they’d seek it out soon. 

With the wind again on him, he took in a bout of sniffing until he caught the prime scent of the blood, still flowing from their prey. Eyes narrowed, he was off again and slinking down the hillside whilst angling back towards the northwest. As he approached the thicket and the vines grew in severity, he caught the scent within. He needn’t state the profanely obvious that they were beginning to close in on their mutual target, as he fell still and began taking slow and deliberate steps into the gloom.

Anubis watched him leap up the scaffold of rock and weeds, heading up the various objects as though he had mastered footwork. Tonight, they would feast well; Anubis could tell. They were on the same line of sight when in their own needs dwelled the requirement for skill. Anubis had more speed than strength, giving him the blessing of swift marks landed. His frame was built for little air resistence, short coat over a lean and athletic frame. He had muscles, yes, but the strings that pulled work were for swift snaps and lighting triggered agility trials.

He was sure whatever his own body lacked, the companion would be able to make up for, as the male seemed more built than he. Muscles bulged beneath flames in the coat of this warrior. Pistons pulled and played their serenade, promising more punch than the Egytian himself could deliver. The Prince could appreciate that, and assured himself where the companion left off in speed, his legs would be awaited take of what was not available.

After a confirmed glance from the Red Skin, Anubis too pointed a slender snout into the air, a continues flow of air entering and leaving his airways as the mind sought purchase on food. Just as the twinge of crisp flavor hit him, it glance a blow heavy to the Unknown wolf, the lupine announcing his find with a feral and ungilded roll of voice. Off he disappeared, and into the hunt they both flew. Anubis clutched and released the loam under him with intense mind, though as fast as his elegant limbs galloped, they barely graced the earth. To look upon him from outside, one would believe he was flying, jaunty and broken movements not found in the majesty that was his gait.

Soon, very soon, he erupted through the scene, hip to hip with the Fire Pelt as he too came to sniff for the path of wounded meal. A chewed piece of bark and fecal rust of droppings alerted the Egytian to the quarry they chased.

"Mule Deer."

Those were all the words that left his maw before they fled the scene, already nearing the damned buck by the swallowed distance. The forest failed to hinder them, fell logs posing no threat to the agile tracker and definitely no threat to the long limbed counterpart. Like that of determined shadows, the phantoms kept their pace until they neared the shallow hill, and by then, the blood stained air almost drowned all other scents. They were near. Very near.

The Red Wolf took to his own signature, and Anubis slipped well through the sleek darkness of the lands they invaded. A muted gutteral call moaned supressed agony, the Mule Deer searching for help where there was none. Desperately it tried to lower itself, to take from the river, the life the cold water could bring promising relief form the unbridled torment of the torn haunch of shoulder it suffered. Burgundy, deep and viscous slid down the trembling limb of the prey who had escaped the claws of death from a mountain lion, only to find itself unknowingly in the jaws of two lurking lupines.

Anubis watched from dense foliage, body lowering to the most unseen of crouches as it neared to get into a startling position. His plan was to wait for the deer to thirst deep enough to be forced into an uncomfortable position, and just as his shadow stopped, primed, posed well, did the mule take to twisting in varied positions to try again for that ill-fated drink. The Sekket would leap, snapping and snarling at the wounded mule, trying to force both the strength and the reliability of wasted limbs from the deer. The deer would either fall by it's own means of weakness, stumbling across pains joints from sheer fright and suprise, or it would be mauled down by the two overly prepared lupines.

Ears laid flat against a crown of fitted darkness, as he began his assault.
Up and over the cover of darkness and into the blood light of the Night Sun, the Egyptian sailed into the clearing, launching directly at the mauled meal.

The grace of the dark hair went unnoticed as they sped through the undergrowth of pine needles, cones and downed branches. That in itself spoke volumes of Redmoon’s colleague for his senses were sharp as a fox’s cunning and to not sense the passing of Anubis, well it showed Redmoon that he still had much to learn. Not lost on him, the art of stealth was a gracious melody of song, combined with the potential ferocity - it made his fellow one of the deadliest wolves Redmoon had ever come across. The ability to strike unseen, maim and bleed only to vanish again and simply await the target to fall into a blood loss induced sleep, or to come and strike again from a different angle - it was something Redmoon wanted to study and so study he did. 

Shoulder to shoulder they sped effortlessly through the way until the coppered scent of prey wafted in and filled their nostrils. Then at once, Redmoon’s ally vanished from sight. At first concerned, Redmoon wasn’t about to stop now. With prey in sight he crept forward, staying low to avoid a potential wind draft to alert the wounded buck who would surely make flight when accosted. 

Ever so slowly Redmoon eased through the ferns, never easing his gaze from his prey with ears pinned to the fore and nose locked in place, ever sniffing for alterations in the prey’s scent. So far so good, the buck hadn’t even suspected the pair of predators yet and Redmoon edged closer still. A bird behind Redmoon flitted by and the buck looked up, the wolf went stock still, red fur blending with the earthen tones on the ground. He didn’t move even a muscle, not even when a fly landed on his face and crawled so near his eye, he did not blink it away. This was it, the moment every hunter waited for. The moment of camouflage that would spell victory or failure. 

Ahead of him the mule deer’s eyes twitched fearfully, nose and ears flitting about in near panic. Though with no clear threat it slowly eased in emotion and gently limped to the creek bed where it made pithy attempts to sip the life giver’s grace. Redmoon was put directly to the right flank of the target with the movement, a prime location. 

He eased into a pouncing crouch and took a low breath, easing his own anxiety in the moment. Needing a clear head, he couldn’t afford an overexcited attack failing to claim his prey. This needed to be swift as lightning and as effective as one too. 

The wind hadn’t changed, good thing. He crept two more steps and made pause, he sniffed something different. It was his companion! That too was a good thing in that he hadn’t been abandoned. Such was the dark pelt’s silence in movement that it’d taken Redmoon this long to feel him back out. He couldn’t locate him per se but he sensed a change in his stance all the same. Suddenly Redmoon realized this change in scent was the aggressive nature of a wolf coming to the fore. Regal though he may have been, all wolves held the desire for the kill and its smell was pungent to him here. There was no doubt in Redmoon’s mind, the time to strike was now!

He sprang from the fern’s concealment after a short sprint at top speed. When he emerged from the foliage he instantly spotted his short haired counterpart doing the same, lunging for a spectacular strike. The timing in their attack had been near simultaneous as if they’d been in a pack for many years. It only went to show the expertise at work and the acute senses too. Even the slightest alteration in scents had signaled for them to act and they had done so without hesitation. 

Redmoon’s tail cleared the shrubbery when the mule deer sensed the danger and it flinched, hunching low to evade though it failed and the fire brand struck the rear haunch. Pearly white daggers slammed home, tearing hide and rejoicing to the relinquishing of blood and tendon. The bite was deep and sure. Exactly where Redmoon had intended. Flesh parted away and the retaliation was swift, the left hoof of the buck struck backwards and took the red one in the ribcage. The impact was a terrific force and sent Redmoon sprawling with a yip. 

He hit the ground and rolled over, the shock of the hit nearly taking him down a peg though his adrenal glands were pumping him full of vigor, he’d feel the strike later but now he was intent on the kill. Blood filled his jaws and his tongue drank it in along with raw and fresh scraps of meat. It was beautiful, it was intoxicating, he needed more! 

The buck itself, having a lion’s wound on the shoulder and now a deep gouge to the right haunch which had torn tendons and rendered flight an option unable to be found, turned to face his predators. This would be a last stand or so it seemed. While no teeth would come to bar for it, a one hundred and eighty pound animal had strength aplenty and could easily kill with blows like a hammer. Wounded only meant it was desperate. Though now it was Anubis’ turn - Redmoon having caught its attention, the black fur was open to strike. By design? Redmoon continued to applaud his new found ally, he was indeed learning much just by watching.

Anubis had seen the launch of his fellow, the Red Pelt poised perfect in the air, sailing as though he were given flight from Horus, himself. The jaws promising and effectively delivering agony to the buck had landed moments after his own leap. The buck had it's front facing him as the companion had latched to a meaty flank of the beast, shrill bleats warning others of it's predicament. Anubis was clean in the air, a dart of darkness with twinklilng star like daggers that shone from midnight's glade.

As the deer was responding to the russet's attack, it's head was lowerered into a buck. The leg flashed out and caught his friend in the toil of pain that was resulted from the hoove, but Anubis had his own life to worry about, as he was sent flying into the antlers of the mutilated food source. At his vector, nothing more than a torrent of drawn out death as he would he skewered.

His trajectory was wrenched from the sky as he twisted his form out of the way of the dreadul thorns, landing on his fours by a bare skin of teeth and reflexes. He saw his counterpart was down for the moment, and thus the buck turned to him, a maddening he knew resulted from an animal which knew it had to fight for it's chances, or atleast take as many opponents down with them. 

This was a dangerous thing, and Anubis stared down a deer that was capable of mortally wounding him, despite it's injured host. The spirit was willing, and so it would perfomr accordingly. The Egytian had to be smart about this.
Using what he knew best, his speed and tenacity, the Prince of Sekket darted to the left of the buck, snapping at the outtskirts of its right front. The beast tried to rear, a natural defense to the aggressor, but as Anubis suspected, such action could not be taken. It was wounded in that shoulder. Weight was favored on the left, both the right flank being massacred and the right being equally as totaled. Anubis quickly shifted directions, avoiding a lunge of pointed antler spikes, and kept drawing the battle out with lunges to various spots.

The goal was to causee the deer to slip up and either mistep, or fall from its own error of pain. With the endurance and cunning the heir had, the man kept snapping, having the deer throw its weight around in a tandem of maelstorm inspired chaos. There was no pattern to his attacks, and nor was there any mercy.

Redmoon hit the soft dirt and flopped over his back, rolling over to his feet once more. That was a hit worth a million bones right there and he was feeling it. Nothing was broken but the wind was stolen right out of him. It seemed even though wounded, the buck mule deer wasn’t about to give in. Wearily the red pelt rose from his crouched position just in time to see the dark pelt race in and nearly get skewered despite his obvious grace and agility. It spoke volumes in fact that he’d not been impaled. It was time to get back into the fight though he was unsure of the next strike - the obvious attack would be for the left flank and haunch, debilitating both rear legs would end the battle and with Anubis keeping the beast’s attention, this was Redmoon’s opportunity to miss. 

Covered in earth and mud, his red pelt was now mired in the grime  - he didn’t give it a second thought as he spread his stance and flashed his fangs once more. Pearly teeth shown in the dim light of the red moon though pieces of the buck’s skin were caught between some and the canines were tinted red with the blood of his prior successful strike. He tasted blood and he wanted more. 

Somewhere deep inside of him the taste of blood unleashed a terrible feral urge to go forth and rend that buck asunder, to feast on the animal’s cooling corpse and awash himself in the warm bloods within. Every hunk of meat torn from the prey would be another significant display of their victory here. The beast inside of him stirred to be unleashed and his consciousness fought to suppress it. This was no time to fall into a rabid attack with only the two of them. He needed a clear mind and an effective strike. 

Backing into the shadows, he attempted to mimic Anubis’ movements earlier and while he paled in comparison to the black pelted lupine, he made a generous effort to make himself scarce. Crossing behind the bark of a stump he slinked away into the underbrush as the dark pelt continued to do a dance against the deadly prongs that assailed him. 

Legs shot in all directions as both animals fought for footwork, keeping them going and on sturdy bases. He watched for a moment as the buck reared and failed, nearly getting the dark pelt’s jaws as a reward. It seemed the wounded appendages were hampering its movements far more than he suspected they were. Good, that meant this attack would bring it down or would have a grand chance at doing so. Redmoon spotted the left leg and his green eyes zeroed in on the tendons of the ankle. It wouldn’t take a kill shot or anything fancy, just a lunge and sweep. If timed and done right the tendons would be ripped away and the beast would tumble - simple as that. Once on the ground there would be nothing it could do, the wolves would find their late night dinner indeed. 

Step, step, balance, step. The buck wasn’t giving up and the whites of its eyes were bright in the red moon’s glare. Mud began to splash up with each step as the deep stamped the earth beneath it with signs of a struggle. Here the black pelt came again and the deer was repositioning to thwart the assault. Step, step, stumble! There is was - the sign. 

Stepping on its right and pressing with weight, the deer’s butt lowered as the knee gave in. The left leg tensed to compensate and here came Redmoon like a bullet from the concealment of the brush. He put all the speed he’d been worth into this and he darted out of the wood. Crossing the distance in a flash he leapt forth and closed in. His jaws opened and he caught the meat of the tendon perfectly, flesh and sinew parted in a swamp of red fluid combined with a failing bleat of panic. It tumbled backwards though the front feet clawed and scrapped to sustain itself, it wheeled ninety degrees and the rack’s underside blasted Redmoon hard, straight down into the mud just in time for the deer to roll over the top of him, smashing him into the dark, moist earth. 

The front feet kept churning, managing to make two accidental punches to Redmoon’s ribcage and left hip before flopping to the side, perfectly positioned for Anubis to end this bout once and for all. 

Redmoon flailed, popping himself out of the earth’s suction. His entire right side was matted and black from the caked mud. His right eye was closed as a chunk lay there too and was only released once he shook his pelt free of the majority of the debris. Favoring his left hind leg, not from actual damage but from the impacted soreness. Redmoon was clearly out of this fight. Perhaps he could muster one last charge but he surely hoped the dark pelt could close it out for he wasn’t too certain that he could at this point. 

The bruise was already forming on his ribcage and hip, he wasn’t looking forward to waking up in the morning. Then again - he planned on waking up with a full belly. Something he’d not had in weeks.

It was a deadly dance of lunges and sidesteps, and if timing had been against the Prince, he would have been implanted on sharp antlers long ago. A swift dash to the left, left again, right, right, left, The buck was maddened and exhausted by the chaos. It just wanted peace, to be left alone, to live. But not in the world where chance reigned supreme. It was by chance the buck was riveted by sharp claws earlier that night, which bled into the chance of it being discovered by the two lupines. The chance of it being downed increased as there were two of them, not a lonesome hunter.
The deer had no cards left but to expend it's energy till the very end.
The end veered nearer and nearer as the two wolves better coordinated, resulting in a heightening of the success in chance's little game.
Ra judged these two wolves deserving of the meal, and with such blessing the god gave deliberate grace to them. The venison dropped to one knee, and Anubis could see within the dark eyes the end of this proverb.

The ebony male struck the final blow, a gash of ripped flesh and arteries within the throat of the meal, and soon, the agony was over. Horus would have been proud of such a fight, put up well between both the hounds and the prey. The cycle of life and death lived on, fueling one, and giving space for growth to the other. Anubis stood back, the gentle rumbles of his voice
made slightly hoarse from the extensive excercise.

"I wish you the first bite in this passionate feast, as it is your assisted feats that granted such a bountiful passage. Eat hearty, my friend, and the gods will return to you lost strength."

The dark pelt’s brilliance in agility was an inspiration to the weary Redmoon, he would have to do well to mimic the actions of this prince and attempt an agile nature of his own. Surely he could do well though not so perfect as the darkened wolf who danced with grace and a savvy that the red pelt could not but help to admire and covet for his own. Such was the mention of his adoration that he sought to recall the dark pelt’s steps and learn from him - the highest form of praise was to attempt to copy and mimic after all. 

On tired limbs he neared the heated beast, its eyes were darting to and fro - the brain was still functioning and alive though the body was dead, heart in its final pumping moments. The life was fast escaping this one and Redmoon only found hunger in his own eyes. This was nature’s greatest bounty, a feast of venison too great for a single wolf to devour. 

Then came the call of the dark pelt, his voice was smooth and telling - very regal in its presentation. For a moment Redmoon thought himself unfit to be in this one’s presence for he was a simple wolf from the southern swamps well beyond the Teekon and far beyond the mountains further than the crow would fly. But the telling voice soothed Redmoon’s worries by an offering of the first bite. Instantly the red pelt’s mind was awash with this triumphant feast to be, mouth watering and his eyes irresistibly locked onto the failing deer’s carcass. Even the blood pooling around the wounds looked tantalizing and he could smell the warmth they held. He hobbled forward, wounds and bruises forgotten. 

Compiling the dark pelt’s words in their finality, Redmoon thought a moment - he knew nothing of gods and spirits but he knew of the Scorekeeper and the Caller. But even who they truly were he knew not. First he knew of the Scorekeeper - the unseen one that tallies a wolf’s life and at the end of the life, should the tally be high enough, the wolf is given a place where he may forever hunt and run. Where he is given honor and glory above all. It was a warrior’s afterlife. Redmoon didn’t ever see himself as a warrior, but he believed in the Scorekeeper enough to wonder of his own tally. The Caller was the reaper of the dead. He came to each dying wolf to guide them home one last time. All Redmoon knew was that if the Caller knew your name, you were deserving of the Scorekeeper’s tally. 

Perhaps the two could be considered gods - Redmoon wasn’t sure. But what he was certain about right now was that he had a heaping lot of venison before him and he need only share with one other and easily enough it would be too much for them both! 

He took heartily to the dark pelt’s generosity and he started by lapping up the fresh dripping blood from the neck. The glorious taste of the red life fluid and its thickness filled his maw and his tail brushed the air. Swiftly he lifted his bloody face and licked his chops before digging into the meat surrounding the neck region. He tore open the neck furiously until the skin ripped away and the firm tendons gave ground, ripping and leaving strings of meat hanging from his jaws. He ate heartily though only three large bites before backing away. 

Desperately he wanted to continue but he found restraint within himself to back out and address the dark pelt. “Thank you, for your help and your kindness. I won’t forget it.” Though something Redmoon didn’t take from this dark wolf was his kindness for weakness, he knew well that behind that calm and regal demeanor was a vicious predator that was capable of bringing down this mule deer in one swift stroke. He would remain vigil though he was sure there was no need to be wary of the wolf, but rather to be wary of what he could do. He swallowed after chomping down some thick meat. “Help yourself.” He offered and moved to the back of the deer where his original wounds had cut deep into the deer’s legs. 

They’d fought and found pain together after a good hunt. The Scorekeeper would smile upon them this day and add to their tally. But Redmoon was not quite satisfied, he held one last thought to his mind that he didn’t know this wolf’s name. “Redmoon,” he lowly mentioned as he looked up to the night sky as the first drops of rain began to fall, there behind the clouds glowed the bright red moon above. He saw its beauty but also recognized its danger.

 “They call me, Redmoon.”

Posting from my phone,  all of the forgive me,  please.

 



The onyx pelt took to the returned courtesy of the comrade who graced his ear with words that held intent meaning.  Spanning through the night hours,  heated breath crossed the threshold of Anubis' hearing scale.  He took the moment as it should have been, giving a respectful nod of appreciation to the one now known as Redmoon. It was defining what the two lupines shared within this moment,  a companionship that was forged in crimson that both did and did not belong to them. Brotherly almost was ritual,  the revealing of a title from one to another.  The trading of names was no light thing, as names held importance in what made you who you were.  If a name was unsuited for you,  then it was your destiny to make one for yourself.  Redmoon was a daunting name,  something which mystery was heralded with.  This brute was worthy,  deemed Anubis.  Quite worthy,  as the lunar phase above them was ripe with it's own majesty,  only giving glory to the wolf who aided him.  

Properly addressing his newfound Brother,  the Egyptian responded appropriately to the red wolf.  With accented bass,  he spoke. 

"It is an honor,  Redmoon. I am Anubis. "

It was then he turned ravenous golds to the underbelly of the deer,  narrow snout revealing stained ivories which tore into the vulnerable stomach.  Out spilled intestines,  organs of all delicacies before the two. With full satisfaction,  he dined on the nutrient rich liver,  chewing the lungs and consumed the heart as he made his way up the carcass.  

After he ate his fill,  the Prince of Sekket sat back,  full and prepared for proper conversation once his temporary grooming was well handled.  

" What solace do you seek, Redmoon? Do you have plans in this strange land ?"

Anubis, the name felt unfamiliar on Redmoon’s mind and he felt curious to know more of this dark pelt. As he felt the strength returning to him after no telling how long he’d had a good meal, he paused in his feasting. While conscious of the prince near him, Redmoon was a barbarian by comparison though he made an effort not to be. The question he was addressed though was a curious one - truly, what plans did he have in this place? 

The thought fell on him and he held no answer. Taking another chunk of blood meat, he ground it up and swallowed hard, letting the cooling hamstring shift down into his belly. He gazed to the sky as the first droplets of rain began to touch them, he moved cautiously to the eve of a fallen and hollowed out log where he took up a position that would keep him moderately dry during the coming downpour. Still though he pondered on the instance which the dark pelt had questioned him on. This was not his home - home had been a place long destroyed and where he ventured now led him to new lands every day. Where the canvas of time was painted anew every morning and he etched his own will upon it. 

A vagabond and a king in the same sense of the words. No home, but a master of his own life. Being silent for a while, Redmoon didn’t want to be rude and so he offered Anubis an explanation. “My plan is only to find the next day’s light. I’ve no clear path other than to survive in this place. No home or family. Just me.” 

He realized how boring those words must have sounded and quickly he moved on from them. “I come from far to the southeast of here. Beyond the great plains and over the mountains, an untouched swamp where the smell of salt and brine are mixed. I was chased from there by wolves of another pack, they tracked me into the north where they lost me in these woods.” Anubis didn’t carry the scent of his pursuers and so he did not fear the reveal of this. “I’ve been here ever since. Just… making it from day to day.” The scent of Anubis though did carry elements of the outside of these woods. Faint traces of a life beyond the thorns and weed thickets. Perhaps there was something to this place if he’d just go out and seek it. 

“My plan,” Redmoon began, “is to go find it.” Vague yet innocent. He was a wolf with no direction and he was bound to go out and discover it for himself. “You? Where do you call home? Do you have a plan in this place?”
 
The rain was picking up now as well as the wind, so Redmoon hunkered down lower and found comfort in his lee. After filling his belly he felt tired - exhausted from the fight and feeling sleepy from the meal. But he’d not let himself doze off so long as he had company. Anubis was the best company he’d found in weeks, he may as well take it. Even his natural antisocial behavior denied him a quick pass all on Anubis. Perhaps something inside them both made them alike enough to feel the Scorekeeper’s direction. No, Redmoon would entertain Anubis’ company for as long as the dark pelt so desired. It was the least he could do for helping him in an otherwise impossible hunt.