Blacktail Deer Plateau get it together and bring it back to me

The intruder's approach was relentless. Ying had called out a warning — This not your land. — but it had fallen on deaf ears. Her options were limited.

Each step taken in pursuit of their border was countered until the pair were dangerously close. Ying could smell the ire that he exuded, finding it to be almost tangible. He was emaciated but confident: a dangerous combination.

The guardian knew that neither wolf would escape unscathed. She bounded forward, lunging for his throat once close enough to land a hit.

She trailed back the way she had come, having gathered her courage and her wits. Harps wanted to learn more about the wolves who lived on the plateau. Quite possibly, she wanted to join them, though that thought made her stomach twist nervously. She was anxious. She wanted acceptance, companionship and support. But Harps didn’t know if they would be a good match; or if she would make the cut; or even what she would do if she did gain acceptance. The yearling had never before been part of such a large social circle. It had always just been dad, Spur (who despised being called any iteration of “mother”) and Lele.

Her copper eyes lingered on the raised landmark, though they dropped when Harps heard a commotion. She couldn’t see anyone from where she stood. Harps paused, torn between running forward to see what was happening or retreating to avoid the unmistakable sounds of conflict. Her heart raced in her chest, a thin whine leaking from her lips.

The attack was partially successful. Ying latched her jaws onto the side of the intruder's face, teeth tearing through flesh as he pushed her onto the ground. He'd managed to get a paw between her forelegs, forcing her onto his back and giving himself the advantage.

The thought of losing, of potentially allowing him to cross the border, kept Ying from panicking. She used her hind legs to push up against his stomach, putting enough distance between them to escape his immediate reach.

Her heart now in her throat, Harps looked around as if hoping someone might appear to help. But she stood alone on the plain below the plateau and the sounds were growing worse. Nervously licking her chops, the yearling took a few tentative steps forward. Once she began moving, she didn’t stop, her paws soon delivering her nearer to the territory’s base, where she caught sight of the skirmish.

She smelled blood as the two bodies crashed together, then sprang apart. Harps didn’t know either one of them, so she couldn’t guess if they were part of the pack. Perhaps this was a fight over food? Or maybe it was a rank challenge? Maybe one of the two was an intruder? She didn’t have a clue, though some instinct compelled her to yip several times, a distress call meant to summon the attention of the plateau’s residents.

Meanwhile, she lingered but did not make any move to join in the fight. Harps didn’t want to interfere, not without knowing what was going on in the first place. And she also didn’t fancy getting hurt or killed, of course. She could stand her own in a scrap, though this looked like serious combat.

young though she might not be, erzulie was a terrible batwinged creature as she flung herself toward the borders, toward the sound of snarling that echoed through the plateau.
ying, wiry, beautiful ying, sharp white teeth flashing over and over and over with the self-assured ferocity that the harlot recognized in herself.
she dashed round the pair, flew silently with gaped jaws for the entire side of the cur's face, jaws intending to crush bone and eye to dust and pulp.

There were several calls sounded. Ying did not recognize the voice and for a moment worried that this might be another intruder asking for reinforcements. She continued pushing up on his undercarriage, eventually moving him enough to wriggle from beneath his reach. 

Erzulie appeared in her peripheral. She didn't take the time to greet her, instead using her jaws to take out his hindleg while her teammate lunged for his face. Ying would pull, pull, pull until the joint dislodged and she could pull away her prize.

When a familiar figure burst onto the scene, all toothsome savagery, Harps felt a jolt of adrenaline hit her bloodstream. She watched the battle a moment longer, just long enough to suss out the context: it was Erzulie and the white wolf against the other. If she joined them now, it would be three against one and they stood a good chance of driving out the wolf she now understood to be an intruder.

Although she wasn’t involved, her familiarity with Erzulie compelled Harps to dart forward and lend her teeth to the fight. She was not brave enough to go for the trespasser’s throat or any other vitals. Instead, she went for the easiest target, snapping her fangs at his hind legs.

teeth connected with flesh; erzulie ripped a swathe along the man's next, splattering blood droplets in a hot arc. she was not here to drive out, to simply maim.
the harlot meant to kill.
it showed in her renewed attack when a familiar willowy young woman joined her suddenly, appearing alongside the rusalkans. the man had been crippled, and the new beta female took the opportunity to press him into the snow with her weight, savaging the back of his head.

The intruder no longer had posterior support. Either leg had been claimed as a target, further weakening him to Erzulie's benefit. Ying waited for him to fall wholly into the snow to release his mangled appendage. She moved upward to the base of spine and tail, gripping and twisting to hold him in place for dispatching.

Her canines barely grazed his leg on her first try, so Harps darted backward, preparing to line herself up for a second attack. In the interim, Erzulie and her pale pack mate pinned the trespasser to the ground. As if he were prey, they sprang at his head and backbone, respectively. In that split second, Harps realized they had no intention of driving him off their lands. They were going to execute him.

Instead of attempting to bite at one of limbs now jerking feebly against the ground, the panting yearling stood by, watching but not participating. Her family had never claimed land, thus never dealt with defending a territory. Harps hadn’t realized, until this very moment, that trespassing could result in death. It was a good lesson for a wanderer, one she was glad she hadn’t learned firsthand.

teeth bore down into sinew and muscle and blood and bone; the enraged woman bit deep, sending his limbs into a paroxysm of last spasms.
she herself pulled away from the dying interloper, allowed ying to do what she might. mintglow eyes fell to harps now, standing aside with an inscrutable expression on her young features.
"you fight wid rusalka, you earn a spot wid rusalka," she declared once she had caught her breath, glancing toward the cloud-grey woman who had begun it all.

The dispatch was quick and easy. Erzulie seemed to move with a professional arrogance that Ying admired and hoped to emulate in her own response. She did not release her grip until the twitching ceased, at which point she grazed up to his throat and tug him a short distance away. 

She listened to them speak — ...fight with Rusalka, earn a spot... — and smiled, dropping him for later inspection and trotting back over. You help me, Ying told the stranger, a warm glint in her eye, Thank you.

She swallowed thickly as the two finished him. Harps couldn’t help staring at the corpse, even when the white wolf latched onto his throat and dragged the body away. When they were out of sight, her copper gaze dropped to the smears of bright red blood in the snow, steaming slightly in the chill air.

As before, Erzulie’s voice drew her attention. She blinked dumbly at the woman, then again as her comrade rejoined them and thanked her for helping. Her accent was even stranger than Erzulie’s. Harps felt the weight of their gazes, their expectation.

”I—” she began to protest that she hadn’t done much of anything. Harps was still processing the entire situation, particularly the killing. ”Okay,” she found herself saying, aware that she was throwing her lot in with cold-blooded killers.

But that was what she wanted: a pack. And packs looked out for each other, defended what belonged to them, sometimes to the death. Harps still wasn’t sure she was cut out for it but she swallowed again and looked to Erzulie, bobbing her snout and just hoping she could learn the ropes and find her footing, become part of this family that had actually chosen her.

pleased, erzulie glanced between the two younger wolves, tail beginning to sway with the elation of the day, the taste of the blood that still smeared her muzzle. proudly she wore it, heart warmed to see ying welcome harps so sweetly into the fold.
the huntress' seafoam eyes shown; erzulie's glowed with a satisified pride, and she tilted her crown then, letting a long howl unfurl through the plateau in announcement of what had happened, and that rusalka was to rally around harps, who was now one of them.

I am Ying, she whispered. The howl was still being sounded and she didn't want to interrupt, but Ying was so excited that she couldn't contain herself! Still, she tried to keep her voice low so as to not disturb the Beta's song. She walked past both she-wolves, bumping shoulders as she went, before turning to trot over the border.

The howl took her by surprise, making the yearling jump a little. When she realized that it was Erzulie announcing her acceptance into the ranks, she felt a jolt of heat pass through her, a strange mixture of joy, mortification and wonder. It left a lingering warmth beneath her skin, particularly her cheeks. Harps couldn't remember the day of her birth, though she sincerely doubted she had ever been welcomed anywhere with such enthusiasm. Spur had probably spat in her newborn face, actually.

Ignoring that errant thought, Harps whispered a mildly awed, "I'm Harps," to Ying, eyes watching as the she-wolf moved off toward the borderline. Her copper gaze drifted back to Erzulie and it struck her then: this was her leader, her superior, and she owed her thanks and submission alike. Harps bowed her head.

last from me! this was fantastic <3

her cry lingered in the air over the plateau, and she thought that she might have announced this among the pine forest, had they been back in the sound. the thought caused a pang to rush the harlot, but she turned back to the striking pair with a smile upon her lips.
a nod to ying's departing back; erzulie arched a brow. "we will dispose of dis man, oui?" she inquired, turning back to the body with a gesture that harps should follow.

Harps didn't quite follow Erzulie's command, though the "wee" made her think of that strangely aggressive male pissing on the dying deer's head before ending its life. Perhaps the she-wolf intended to mark the body once they were done disposing of him, whatever that entailed.

The yearling said nothing, merely nodded respectfully, prepared to obey now that she was part of the pecking order. She had never done this—any of this—before, yet even among her small family, there had been a hierarchy. Harps, as the youngest, had always been at the bottom, so obedience and submission would come easily to her.