Grouse Thicket Fool and King, Ghoul and Goose

@Tywyll hopefully this is readable; having some issues concentrating on postwriting this evening. @.@; Even more so than usual, please do feel free poke me for anything I need to clarify in here!

Nynka wound in and out among the thorny vines as her shining bright eyes and quivering nose were flicked restlessly to and fro, alert for the first hint that the grouses were getting closer. She licked her lips and twitched her ears as she slipped carefully through the next tangled patch of undergrowth. Her long form slithered through like a long, fuzzy brown snake, and her restless seeking head appeared snakily charmed by the alluring scent of the well-fed birds, who had been growing sleeker and smugger all summer on the feasts the season offered. But it was time to ruin their streak of safety, so far as Nynka was concerned. Hungry weasels ought to be a much higher priority than the safety and comfort of a featherbrained bunch of grouse, after all.
 
First, though, she’d have to find them. She had bounded her way across a fair expanse of land, hunting whatever the environment offered and her whims dictated along the way, but grouse were a new find—and from the scent of it, they were quite thick here. And even though Nynka had ingested a perfectly fine fieldmouse earlier that morning, her mouth watered and her stomach grumbled now as she scented the covey of fine fat birds. And now that she at last spotted one in the next clearing over with its wide fluffy rump turned in her direction, her eyes glittered scornfully as she hunched into a stalking pose and crept over the last array of spikes laid in her way. There were half a dozen of the stupid grouse scattered about, twittering and bobbing as they pecked at gravel and small bugs—not one of them had taken advantage of their wings to put themselves safely up out of her reach! Really, what was the point of being a bird if one was going to stay rooted to the ground each day? The idiot things had best be more careful, Nynka thought, or their wings would wither away and drop off entirely, soon. And who better to help teach them such a lesson than she herself. She grinned fiercely and with a warlike screech leapt for the exposed speckled-brown feathered neck of the nearest bird. The whole flock was suddenly in a tizzy at the maneuver, squawking and flapping in a panic and finally lifting off into the air, except for the shrieking one for whom it was a little too late.

Exploring the territory just didn't seem good enough to him anymore. He had probably circled the whole thing about fifty times. So for the first time he headed past the borders, marking and peeing occasionally so that if something went bad he could be found. 

Everything seemed to be going well but the fact that he was away from home, alone, in strange unfamiliar territory did kind of make him a bit scared. He walked with his tail lower than usual and his ears swiveling to and fro nervously. The smell of birds made his mouth water and he gave a small growl, stalking through the vines and following the scent. He figured he would find them up until suddenly they all started squawking and screaming and bursting through the thicket. Tywyll gave a pretty unmanly shriek and cowered down, eyes on the furry brown long creature who had killed one that he hadn't noticed till now.

Nynka's ear barely twitched at the little growl; if birds were stupid enough to stand their ground and mutter dire threats at her, then she would simply laugh at them as she gleefully took them one after another by the neck. The shrill shriek, however, caught her attention more firmly. She gave the grouse she had caught a swift, vicious shake, clamping her teeth down as deep and hard as she could as she made sure the thing's neck was broken and it was well and truly dead. Then she eagerly dropped it to the ground and hopped her forelegs over it, standing astraddle the feathery corpse's kinked neck and head as her bright eyes and quivering whiskers swiveled along with her head to locate the screamer. Had another of these stupid birds gone and injured itself? Was today going to serve up a bonus double-helping of grouse to her?! She could already practically feel the drool collecting at the corners of her mouth at the thought.

As Nynka's little pink tongue darted eagerly across her lips, however, her eyes landed on the quivering shadow that was in fact decidedly unbirdlike in nearly every important way. Her whiskers instantly drooped and her face fell into a freshly grumpy pout of disappointment. Yeah, there was no way that was a grouse in disguise, as her nose clearly informed her now that she had a moment to take in what the still-settling skirls of air were offering up to her senses. It was just some young dumb wolfbrat doing its best to play a screaming fuzzy pillbug, and all on its lonesome so far as the scents in the area indicated. If she had been especially hungry and desperate, she might have chanced to see what it might taste like; as it was she had way tastier and more important critters to concern herself with, here.

Better be careful, she sniped at the youngster, as she turned back to the object of greater interest. Keep making noises like that and acting like prey, and you just might turn into one. Her voice was both sincere and disinterested, as (ignoring the ruckus some of its more brethren were raising some small distance above and away, still—none of it reached nearly the volume the little black wolf's lungs had, anyhow) she began to rip speckled downy feathers from the luckless bird she'd caught. Ordinarily she would have set right in to heckling the little beast but truth be told, this one looked like it'd wilt quicker than an autumn flower if she so much as looked at it cross-eyed. She wasn't sure how much sport there would really be to be had, here, now that the rest of the birds had vanished and left only this pathetic mewling creature in their wake.

Tywyll's fear instantly evaporated when the weird long thing turned and stared at him, looking disappointed. For some reason the fact that a small long noodly creature had the guts to look disappointed with his appearance pissed him off royally. Then when it spoke, he took the words as threats and stood up immediately his own face falling into a very angry scowl. "Then how's this?" he asked and bared his sharp little baby fangs and gave his first real aggressive snarl, snapping his jaws in the most predatory way he could. Then he stood there bristling, eyes focused on the small thing that had dared to sit there and eat like he wasn't threatening enough to be paid attention to. 

Snapping, he jumped forward and yanked the bird away dragging it backwards and dropping it. "You're the one who looks like prey, just cuz you can kill some birds doesn't mean nothin!" he taunted. He was seriously a stupid and cautionless boy.

Nynka felt a flash of amusement as the fuzzy black pillbug unrolled itself and tried to act all manly and tough and stuff. Grrr. Lookit my teeny little white wolffangs, hahaha. It was a stupid little display, almost adorable in one that size, even despite Nynka herself being considerably less bulky than even so young a wolf as this. Hah! Better, certainly, but— and all traces of amusement vanished quicker than lightning as the stupid brat flung himself forth with desperate courage to seize upon her rightful prey. Oh no, that was not going to fly: no way, no how.

With a loud hiss of wrath Nynka flashed her own teeth forward in a much more businesslike fashion, angling to latch them into the shining black leather of the nose the overconfident little pup had so brashly shoved in her direction, and atop her food to boot. The wolf boy let go of the bird but now Nynka was more intent on biting him instead of the limp and bleeding grouse. This young wolf was going to be taught a lesson by her now, indeed, whether he would or no. Little wolves who act like prey don't stay wolves for long, she said, her voice low and menacing, and deadly serious. And little wolves who steal will learn the price of their crimes quicker yet! Another flash of the teeth almost too quick for the eye to follow, and another; Nynka wasn't terribly picky about where her blows landed, so long as they connected with the wolfling's tender young flesh at an angle where she could bite down hard. The stupid covey of grouses above were silenced now after a few final squawks of growing alarm, their vocal cords perhaps paralyzed by anticipatory horror. The squeals Nynka intended to elicit from the uppity young canine would shortly more than make up for that lack of noise, though, surely, she was grimly amused to think.

roll for damage taken: 8

His mistake was almost immediately regretted as he hadn't even gotten his teeth into the grouse before the weasel had her fangs in his. He shrieked and shook her off, too young and inexperienced to react well enough to put up much of a fight. In his pause she struck again, cutting the bridge of his nose and again slicing open the tender flesh of his maw. His screams of pain and fear escalated into shrill howls as he finally moved, lifting a paw and attempting to smack her off of him while also simultaneously scampering backwards and away from her. 

Feel free to go ahead and attack some more! If you want to make it easier for me, throw in a roll for damage given. 10 side die. He needs a couple more good wounds!

The screeching youngster did seem to be thinking better of his foolish thievery. Good. It just served the insufferable little brat right. Nynka didn't want to give him a chance to recover his morale, however, or to even so much as think about touching a tooth to a single feather of her precious grouse. She puffed up the brown fur along her spine as she arched her back a little and hissed as she let him shake her free for just a moment. Then she dodged forward around his clumsy paw and made a grab for the nearest convenient section of black wolfpuppy fur with her forepaws (not paying any mind to whether or not that section was already ripped and bleeding; she didn't mind digging her claws in a little deeper under his skin, at all) as she darted in for a final punishing bite. Curving her spine upward, she puffed herself up even further as she bared her lightly-bloodstained teeth and danced back to stand between the pup and the grouse.

Had enough, little wolf? Nynka was just about ready to hear an apology from the uppity little beast, if he could manage to find the presence of mind to offer one. She kept a narrow eye on his body either way, though, ready to dart in with her teeth once more if he made the tiniest move back toward her rightful prey. Or maybe she'd just stand there and laugh, if the bleeding furball managed to trip over something or widen his wounds at all in his panic to get away from her now, as he seemed possibly inclined to do. Either way, few would have argued with Nynka as she (possibly prematurely) chalked this one up to a definite victory for herself.

It was a pity, really, that his tender young wolfflesh didn't taste any better, though. Noisy and messy though it would have been, Nynka was pretty certain she could have easily killed him if she chose...though who knew, maybe he'd be dumb enough to blunder toward her again, and she might yet make a grab for his throat. She kept her glittering black eyes alertly latched on to the young wolfing. Your move, pup.

1D10 says... 5!

The assault seemed to last forever in his panicked mind, heart racing with terror and movememts stiff and clumsy with pain. He tried to stumble backward away from her when he got her off but with a hiss and arch of her back (which would have made the bratty boy laugh if he hadn't already known how much pain she could cause) she attacked him again. Once again the air was filled by his screams and cries, tail fully tucked against his belly as she shredded his flesh in a new spot.

Stupidly he stood there still shrieking as his mind failed to process immediately that he had been released, but when finally he did notice he only hung around long enough to utter a squeaked. "s...sorry!" before turning around and attempting to run off. Unfortunately he didn't expect the wound on his shoulder to smart so badly so he ended up stumbling, falling on his face which made the wounds there worse and ripping his shoulder wound open more on a broken twig. Yelping again and sobbing harder he got to his paws and bolted, now running off of pure adrenaline and fear.

Poor Ty. Thanks for the lesson in how to be less cocky lmao! Last roll for wound damage: 10

<3 Of course, and awww, heal well lil' Tywyll— and don't steal any more predators' meals, gyah! ;P

The tableau held for a moment, with Nynka staying put where she was, looming over the grouse, and the wolf pup seemingly too stunned to do anything but stand there and make horrified noises of fear and pain. Nynka ordinarily reveled in such squeals and cries comng from the results of her teeth, but truth be told at this point her ears were starting to hurt. More importantly, though, the little brat seemed to have learned his lesson, and wasn't making any moves toward her prey. After a moment Nynka tried to lever the bird a little closer to her hind feet with one forepaw, though, just to be totally safe. The maneuver was extra-awkward and less than successful because she didn't move the rest of her body an inch, nor her eyes from their laser-like focus on the young canine's face.

The tiny brute did at last manage a squeaky, stumbling apology. Not as coherent as Nynka might have liked, but she'd take it. The martial light in her eyes started to dim at last, and he fur slowly to flatten, though she still watched the youngster suspiciously in hawklike fashion. So she got a very good eyeful of his worse-yet stumbling paws as he tripped and stabbed himself on an upreaching twig. That surprised a heartless laugh out of the little weasel, laughter that kept going until the fading sobs and footfalls of the young wolf were drowned out entirely by it. She seized her bird and began the more serious work of hauling it off to be plucked and eaten.