Ravensblood Forest Get To Know One Another

Setting: Evening — 1840. 76 degrees, slightly windy.
Set somewhere near the middle of Ravensblood Forest.

Donovan trots aimlessly through his new territory. The monstrous sequoias that thrive here provide shade on hot days like today but that breeze he feels rustling his fur does wonders. Though as he languidly moves throughout the trunks he remembers just how hungry he is. He also recalls the female, Finley is her name, that he just recruited. He wants to know more about her. Wants to see what skills she possesses. Especially hunting skills. A true test to see where she’s at and an opportunity for them both to get to know one another. Trust is required in the relationship he has with anyone in his pack. So he wants to establish it with each and every one of them. 

Stopping in his tracks he concludes any thought he might have. Deciding to finally release a deep, baritone howl into the humid air. Calling for @Finley Grebe.

assumption of territory tour between threads approved ooc.

A deep howl roused Finley from her late afternoon slumber. It wasn’t like her, sleeping through the day like that, but it also wasn’t like her to have a pack to call home. The territory and their tour thereof felt dreamlike, and then the two had split for (on Finley’s end) a much-needed rest.

Right, though—that must have been Donovan, and she followed his howl to the source. Finley idly noted her stomach churning with hunger, but that could wait. She moved briskly, rejuvenated by the breeze, and found him among the trees.

“You called?” Finley asked, bowing her head as she slowed to a halt before her pledged leader.

Via this hunt roll. They will successfully hunt a raccoon.

When the newest wolf of the pack rolls up, he’s shamelessly hiking his leg on one of the many trees in this forest. With a thankfully view of his back to the she-wolf he doesn’t care if she sees him marking the territory.

Though he chuckles and his eyes briefly flick over to her and hums a “Evening, dear.” as he casually continues pissing. When finished he shakes himself off and sidles over to her. “Didn’t know if you were hungry, but I fuckin’ am. Thought we could go hunt and celebrate your integration.” All while he says this, the man has a winning smile that contorts his face handsomely.

The he tilts his head to the side in a way that says follow as he begins walking in a random direction. Then he puts a black, leathery nose to the forest floor. Seeing if he can immediately catch the scent of anything. He continues onward.

She found him in the middle of marking the territory; shameless, but nothing she hadn’t seen before. Donovan greeted her with his usual confidence and wasted no time declaring his intentions for a hunt. Excellent. Finley responded with a nod, then bounded after him.

Before long his nose was to the ground, and Finley followed suit. When Donovan turned one way she veered the other, ears alert for any sudden movements that might indicate he’d found something first. The scents of these woods were still fresh to her, tantalizing as only a new home could be. (She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t been tempted to get a lick of the shining sap herself, but that was besides the point of this venture.) Ravens croaked above, far out of reach—below, a whiff of something familiar. Recent.

Finley gave a small huff, tail swaying in interest, hoping to beckon Donovan over. With his okay, the hunt was on.

She’s excited for a hunt; that’s good. He likes the type to get hype for hunts or battles. He likes wolves with vigor and it seems this wolf has some.

As they walk, making their way through towering trees with a nose to the ground and their ears perked and listening. Then a quiet chuff is sounded from his hunting partner and his golden up look up from the ground to meet her. Flicking back towards the swish of her tail he smirks and paws over to her.

Sniffing around the area he also catches the scent. He’s trotting briskly with his nose close to the ground. They’re on somethings trail, surely it’s smaller cause every once in a while he sees small, odd prints on the dusty forest floor. Soon enough, they close in on their mystery target.

Game, set, match; scent, alert, track. Donovan joined Finley without fuss and the two set off after the trail. Fresher and fresher the scent grew; a mammal, small-footed. Raccoon. Finley hadn’t encountered these much; typically she slept the night away when they roamed most freely, but there was a first time for everything.

She paused as they drew nearer, not wanting to scare it. The raccoon seemed occupied with something, pawing by the dirt by the base of a tree, and the wolves’ approach seemed unnoticed for now. Finley kept her head down, scanning the landscape. If it jumped into the tree, they’d lose it, but long as they could keep it on the ground they could corner it. Were there more boulders, maybe some water, nearby to trap it?

Again she deferred to Donovan’s direction, if any, and glanced rapidly between him and the raccoon.

Only a few minutes of tracking and they finally find what they want. The critter sits at the base of a tree trunk, his weird little hands sifting through the dirk and eating any miscellaneous bugs it’s able to grab.

As his golden hues do the same as Finley’s — scoping the area — he settles his gaze on her. “You go to the right, I’ll go left, we’ll meet in the middle. It’ll either try going up the tree or run away from it. I’m down to risk it.” He turns towards the animal in their sights, then examines the bare trunk of the tree. “Even if it does try climbing it, I’d be able to jump up and snatch it. That tree is fairly bare so it will probably have trouble climbing it.” With one last look to his partner he smirks. “Let’s hunt.” 

Then he’s peeling off to the left just as he mentioned earlier. Getting into position he nods to Finley to signal that he’s ready.

short post is short; feel free to pp Finley following Donnie’s attack cue forward next round!

Donovan replied like a mind-reader, lying out not only a plan but a failsafe. “Let’s hunt.” Finley gave a quick nod and rounded the tree to the right as instructed, eyeing her path and the raccoon all the while. She took her time, careful not to alert it; the raccoon still seemed blissfully unaware of the hunters surrounding it, gorging itself on bugs. The greedy little thing would make a fine meal.

She stopped about a wolf-and-a-half’s length away from their prey, opposite Donovan. He was already in position; Finley dropped to a crouch, and at his next signal, the chase would be on.

Honestly Hunt or spar threads don’t need to have long posts haha. And just a tiny bit of power play since you gave me permission. ;>

The larger male nods his head once to Finley on the opposite side of the animal. Signaling that it’s time to put their plan in action. They sprint forward almost in unison and they’re meeting in the middle at the raccoon. Predictably, he was away from the tree, but if raccoons are anything it’s not fast.

So it only takes a few feet of chasing and Donovan’s jaws make their home on its hind leg. Going from latching on, to lifting and shaking, Donovan puts him whole body into a vicious shake. The motion whips the raccoons struggling body back and forth and it surely has whiplash. Eventually he ends up ripping its hind leg off and the poor creature is thrown a few feet in a random direction. He’ll let Finley take it from here since he already had his fun.

Right as planned: on Donovan’s signal they were off, and away the raccoon bolted. A short chase later and Donovan had it first, Finley hot on its tail, and oh sweet sun what was he doing. She almost skidded to a halt in bewilderment as the brute grabbed the raccoon, shook it like a plaything, and up and away it flew into the woods, its hind limb left unhinged in his jaw as blood rained on the dirt below.

Woof. But she didn’t have time to think about it; Finley tore into the trees and engulfed the creature’s neck in her maw, putting it out of its misery with a satisfying snap.

In retrospect, it wasn’t going to escape any time soon, not in this condition. It dangled limply from her bloodstained snout as she brought it back towards Donovan, and dropped it before him. Part of Finley wanted to speak; the rest couldn’t find words, so she stared blankly at the hybrid instead, awaiting his next instruction.

You could post once more and archive if you’d like! ;>

Blood stained his own muzzle as well, splattering on his chest and head from the vigorous shaking as well. An open mouthed and panting smile graces his lips and his dangerous teeth gleam red and he looks to the she wolf that offers him the raccoon, waiting for instruction.

Dropping the leg he previously held in his mouth he chuckles lulling his black tongue out of his maw. “Good job, dear. Quick and efficient I see.” Then he shrugs. “I like to play with my food sometimes.”

Then he grabs the leg once more and begins speaking, his voice vaguely muffled by the object in his mouth. “We can head over to the cache and drop it in there. Come on.” With that he begins trotting. Expecting his skilled participant to follow.

:thumbs up emoji:

Ah, the sweet song of praise from a superior. Quick and efficient, as she should be. In light of that, Finley decided she wouldn’t question Donovan’s food-playing habit, much as she found it puplike on further thought. Some wolves proved their strength through a swift and brutal kill, and others made sure their prey knew what was coming. Interesting.

He truly did resemble a child, talking and walking with the trophy leg in his maw. Finley supposed he’d earned the right. With a final dip of her head, she picked up the carcass once more and followed him back, deeper, into the woods.