Stone Circle the rage of mountains when they tremble

tagging for reference; hunter trade thread! :D unsuccessful hunt roll

Wardruna’s pride stings as the rabbit he chased down escaped down a hole beneath a tree and out of his reach. The northerner snaps his teeth in frustration and digs at the earth viciously only to let out a low snarl of annoyance as his claws scrape against thick roots: parted enough to allow the slim rabbit to slip through but his muzzle does not fit and he knows the rabbit it safe behind it’s cage of roots. He had nearly had it: once. He misjudged the distance between it and him and it dodged to his blindside where: for a few seconds he’d lost it. Those few seconds were enough to gain the advantage over Wardruna. He almost curses his stupid eye, that fated challenge and his inability to die like a proper northerner during a fight meant to be to the death but stops himself as he remembers @Noma is nearby. He can see her out of the corner of his good eye: lingering close but leaving distance between them as he’s asked of her while he hunts. His teeth snap together once more in re-fueled annoyance that she’s witnessed his failure first hand. She is his thrall and she is not to witness his failure, nor his vulnerability. She is only meant to see what he chooses to show her. Yet, it cannot be helped. The damage is already done.

He moves around the large tree and gestures for Noma to follow him, remembering that he’s scented a small elk herd migrating through the Stone Circle but had put off pursuing it in lieu of the promise of something fresh. In hindsight, Wardruna thinks that he should have just pursued the herd and left the rabbit alone but it is done, regardless. He follows the trail, sidestepping a pile of elk droppings just in time, sinking low as he stalks them through thick underbrush, eyeing the four of them with dark hunger. What he would not give for a bite of that succulent flesh but his disability has stripped of him of his once legendary fighting skills and his precision as a hunter. Wardruna has become ashes and he knows that now he must rise to become something new, a new breed of northerner ( something, perhaps, measurably worse than he was before ).

Valette knew she had to let her children explore more on their own. She didn't want to be a hover around them and feel like they couldn't do anything as the alpha of the pack she needed to do certain tasks. It was nice to do them now and then return later to her children to hear all their stories. She remembered she wanted to explore without her mother when she was around two months old. She loved it.

When she walked deeper into the territory, away from the borders she just marked, she caught the scent of two pack members. She hadn't seen them after they joined. Valette was curious how they were doing. Valette rushed after them, also realizing there was a scent of deer close by. She saw Wardruna and Noma together. Not a surprise for her. "Hi! Are you hunting? Can I help?," she asked eagerly. She loved hunting after all.

As Wardruna moves forth, attempting to be stealthy as not to spook the elk he tracks his ears pivot as a new set of footfalls approach. He scents Valette before she speaks and he subconsciously shifts so he can see her out of his right eye without having to physically turn his head. Her ebon coat is familiar: and her presence does not come as a surprise to him but he casts a glimpse at Noma in the distance. Would she have been of the health to join them the northerner would have invited his thrall over and perhaps would they have been a trio they might have been able to take one of the elk down. But she is still nearly skeletal and not anywhere near healthy enough to join in their hunt. After his failed hunt a few moments ago, however, he’s in no mood to even attempt another one any time soon. He is good at tracking, at least. Prey, wolves. It mattered little to him. At least with tracking he can reply more heavily upon his sense of smell and hearing: sight will only tell him so much and sometimes it can prove false.

“Já,” Wardruna speaks in acceptance when Valette poses her question to him; as if he is to refuse her. She is the Alpha, after all. “I’m just going to …," Wardruna struggles visibly for a moment, wracking his brain for the right translation. "...watch them.” Close enough, Wardruna thinks as he motions to the general direction of the herd with his muzzle, not really wanting to admit of his failure to catch the rabbit that escaped him and relive it quite so soon. Tracking the herd down and then watching their grazing patterns for a few hours was not exactly a highlight of the ex-berserker’s life but it was being useful in one of the very few ways he can pull his weight.

Valette watched Noma for a moment. She looked rather thin still. Not that she expected the other female to be a normal weight. It took Nanook months to have a normal weight after being a lone wolf for a long time. "Shouldn't she be resting? Or be somewhere warm. She can watch my children or stay with Keoni," she suggested. She wouldn't want the poor female to have to follow them in this condition. Perhaps that was just her being compassionate. She didn't mind that Noma couldn't help. She needed to be stronger first.

Valette nodded at the male when he confirmed that he just wanted to watch them. "Oh good. I usually do herd watching from the Stone Circle. It looks down on our fields," she spoke. But her nose had caught the smaller type of deer when going after Wardruna. "But it seems you already found another small herd?," she stated then looking at the pile of dung not too far away. "You don't want to hunt them? We could use a bigger meal for the whole pack. Noma could use the fresh meat as well," she pointed out.

Valette then eyed at him. "What can you see? Is your hearing and sense of smell still alright?," she asked then. It was the first time she had been more direct towards him. As a leader she needed to know how well he could sense the world around him.

Cameo! Tag me if you need me to respond.

As long as she is within his eyesight, he doesn’t make a fuss. She has little interest in following the herd he chooses to watch but she lingers quietly in the distance. Every so often she looks in his direction to see whether or not he’s moved and if she can still see him, she doesn’t. When she can, she sits or curls up into a ball. Winter is fast approaching and though the days are already cold, it’s only going to get worse. With any luck, she’ll perish before it gets too bad and she doesn’t have to suffer anymore.

The next time Noma looks up, she sees the dark form of Valette approaching him. She doesn’t hear the words of concern from her position but she gets a look and she knows they are at least talking about her. Her green eyes watch, quietly. If her health does return, if she caves in, she’ll fill out and look... like Adeline. At least now she has some benefit of emancipation and muscle atrophy to disguise her appearance and she doesn’t have to worry about the woman fretting over her. Seeing her is enough to cause a pain in her chest.

When they continue, Noma’s head rests on the ground and she silently thinks of Steady.

Valette questions him about Noma’s presence and offered suggestions. Wardruna nods but does not bother to hide the surprise that lifts his brows as Valette’s suggestion that Noma watch her children. That was quite an offer giving her newness to the pack — typically mothers are a lot more protective over their cubs than that. “We did not know there was an option,” Wardruna speaks with a lofty rise and fall of his broad shoulders in a shrug. “I will talk to her later.” Wardruna speaks, in reference to the fact of Noma staying with Keoni or watching Valette’s children when he’s hunting. He doesn’t like the idea of letting her out of his sight, he’s still not sure he can trust her but Noma’s had plenty of opportunities to speak up about their …relationship and she hasn’t. It couldn't hurt to ask if that was something Noma had an interest in doing. He does not ponder long about it, turning back to the task at hand with ease. “We can try to catch one,” but given his very recent failure his confidence on his ability to be much help aside from herding is on shaken ground.

Wardruna’s ears slick back to his head when she is direct with him, wanting to know outright how far his disability goes. “My smelling and hearing are fine,” He assures her. “I can see from my right eye but I’m having trouble telling the depths and judge the distance.” The endless slew of common tongue makes his tongue feel heavy from overuse and he draws in a deep breath before letting it out in a deeper sigh. He’s still filled with much self-loathing and bought of depression that stem from the aftermath of the initial injury.

Valette slowly nodded. "Well it could become one if Noma is interested in it," she spoke. She put the emphasis on Noma as she found it weird that the male already sounded so possessive of her. "Perhaps I will talk to her about it myself. Woman to woman," she suggested. She felt that Wardruna was taking a lot of care of Noma all on himself. Valette wanted it to be a pack effort.

Valette was pleased to hear that they could catch one of the small deer. She slowly nodded when the male explained about what he could do and couldn't. "Good," she spoke. "Then you will pick the side you will feel most comfortable with. We could do a chase with me making the final kill as you will have trouble with depth and distance," she decided before they would head out.

Valette looked at him and then motioned in the direction of the small deer. "Ready?," she asked.

Wardruna offers a sage nod, a quiet noise of acknowledgement that Noma becoming a pup sitter for Valette could be an option if she wanted it to be. Perhaps, Wardruna thinks, it will do his thrall some good. He doesn’t trust her completely, of course, but he trusts her enough. As much as he presumes she hates him she has not taken any of the chances she’s had. Valette puts emphasis on Noma’s name as if she is a separate entity of the northerner. Of course, the choice is his thrall’s and he would not influence her decision either way but he looks to Valette with a critical eye for a second before his gaze slides back to the path before them. “I do not know …ah, …she will talk to you,” It doesn’t sound quite right as it rolls off his tongue though he is not entirely aware he’s accidentally emitted a word from his translation. “but you can try.” Wardruna tells Valette simply: because he suspects that his Noma is hiding something from him …and perhaps Easthollow just as he does. He doesn’t want to hide …but these southern wolves seem so soft and would likely take insult to him taking her as thrall and the only reason he cares is because he is dependent upon Easthollow. It’s messy business, being dependent.

“I will take right,” Wardruna decides without a moment’s hesitation. He doesn’t need to think about it: he will keep the deer in his sight at all times or risk being kicked in the head. “Já.” The northerner gestures for her to split off from him as he hunkers down low in the underbrush, peeking through the breaks in the spindly branches to fixate his singular eye upon their target.

Valette found it a bit strange that the male would think Noma didn't want to talk to her. Valette never had much trouble making friends. So the female was not that bothered that a one on one with the female would go bad. However, the idea that this male said that she didn't want to talk made her curious. Didn't Noma talk to him? She thought they were close.

They decided that it was time for a hunt. She nodded at the male that he wanted to keep to the right side. "I will keep left," she then spoke with a nod. This way they could both use their vision in the hunt. Valette crept closer and then sprinted from the bushes, targeting the small deer. She hoped Wardruna would be there to keep it from going to the right too much.

Valette initiates the hunt after she affirms that she will take to the left: that she will cover his blindspot. He is apprehensive to trust her, naturally, but in the end he bestows it upon her for he’s of little choice in the end. If he wants that deer — and oh! how he wants it! — he has to place his trust in her. Wardruna shoots out from the bramble he’s taken refuge in and takes to the deer’s right flank, narrowly avoiding a kick of a back leg. The hoof shot past his right eye and he has a moment of cold dread as he realizes just a few inches and the damned ungulate might have very well blinded him entirely. His dread morphs to anger and his anger fuels his adrenaline as he pushes himself harder, faster. His bulk slows him down but with a stroke of luck he avoids most of the brunt of a second kick, the hoof just grazing his cheek. He feels the sharp sting as it slices his flesh shallowly but he rams his shoulder into it’s hindquarter as it attempts to veer right, away from Valette. The ungulate bleats and it’s steps falter offering Valette the golden opportunity to end the hunt and take their victory.

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Valette didn't realize the lack of trust the male had in him. The female just focussed on the task at hand. Wardruna's bulk came in handy with steering the deer and slowing it down. Valette appreciated when another wolf knew how to use his body well in the hunt. So far she didn't seem any disabilities in him. The female saw the golden moment and lunged at the deer's throat. Being average in size for a female she was quick and heavy enough to snap the deer's neck. She held it down until she was certain that the deer was dead. "Good job!," She grinned. Instantly after the female howled for @Noma so she could get some fresh meat into her belly. "We should let her eat first," Valette decided. Some fresh organs would do her well.

Noma pays little attention to what is happening out in the field. When she does look away, they are nowhere to be found but they’d been on the hunt. She trembles with the cold and tucks herself more inward, wishing she can just go back to the den and wait. Having not eaten since the first night back in Easthollow, she does not care for what Wardruna offers her and she expects them not to return with much. When the howl calls out, however, her ears swivel forward and she slowly picks herself up. Green eyes glance around, uncertain where they’d gone off to and she takes painfully slow steps forward in the direction. She’d ignored Wardruna enough but she doesn’t feel like she can ignore Valette without raising too much concern. Part of her doesn’t know how long she’ll be able to keep up the charade when she should feel at home. The other part doubts she’ll ever feel at home here again.

It takes her several long, painful moments before she finally reaches them, with a kill at their feet. Automatically, her mouth fills with saliva but her stomach churns at the thought of eating. Noma’s steps slow to a stop several yards away, looking down at the deer, then briefly at the alpha, and finally settling on the bruiting form of Wardruna.

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this seems like a good place to wrap this thread up. feel free to either reply once more or archive as is. :-)

Wardruna accepts Valette’s praise with a terse nod but does not truly accept it: he did little. Corralling did not require much skill and even then he did not get out of it unscathed. The shallow wound on his cheek smarts and the sting lingers. For the moment this is what Wardruna focuses upon as Valette calls for Noma. The sharp, pinpricks of pain in his cheek: heightened when the cool breeze touches upon the split flesh, the feeling of the slow seep of blood congealing the fur in that general vicinity of his cheek to mat. Pain is a good distraction and he stares off in the distance even when he hears Noma approach them. He played his part in the hunt but he is angry that he could not do more. His rehabilitation was too slow …or perhaps the northerner was simply too impatient. Nevertheless he feels an increase in annoyance and loathing when someone provides Noma with something he cannot. That burns worse than any wound could, and he broods in it, choosing to hang back from the women and keep his distance pretending as if they are not even there.

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