Wapun Meadow we keep switched on, all through the night while we sleep

@Zephyr

another scent threaded its way through the meadow -- their meadow.

graven-faced and incensed, the blackbird stalked the newest scent with ambition. if she could not kill, perhaps she could leave a fang-mark to remember by; no wolf was safe in wapun when ursus roamed.

Hunted.
The feeling settles over his spine like a blanket of thorns, hackles rippling upright under the feeling. He turns, eyes locking onto the midnight-cloaked figure, and growls. Leave me alone, his body language screams, tail flagging high above his back. He won't tolerate being stalked as if he's prey.

ah, there was her mark:

a silvery shade more befit of a ghost than a wolf. astara halted as zephyr's tail rose over an argent spine.

her posture stilled until she was simply a wolf caught in curious crosshairs.

several seconds spanned between them before astara withdrew as if she understood the unspoken words between them.

rather than fade away, the blackbird turned quickly on her fores and lunged for zephyr with her lips pulled back in a gruesomely silent grimace.

The shadow begins to recede like the fading of the dark at sunrise — but this lasts only a moment. Mistaken in his moment of loosened tension, Zephyr finds himself too slow to fully avoid the attack that follows. Teeth through fur, scraping against skin briefly as he twists away from the blow. He darts past her as if to flee, whipping around before he fully passes her rear with jaws snapping — reaching for a tail, a leg, anything.

astara was nothing if not an ambusher. her advance was almost unexpected, and it instilled in her wicked delight.

zephyr's counter came a moment too late for dodging, but not for rebuke: the coywolf's teeth raked along her hip and base of tail as she went, leaving a raw mark of loosened fur and exposed flesh scraped back from astara's hide.

she grit her teeth through the pain, turning back to the interloper with new vitriol. this time she did not immediately assail -- instead she tried to circle around zephyr, attempting to keep the coywolf's feet constantly moving.

He feels blood in his fur, a faint trickle from the scrape of teeth against skin — the tiniest distraction in a moment where every ounce of focus matters. Unfortunate, as this is about when he realizes his opponent is as quick as he is himself. Two kindred spirits, pitted against one another in Murder Tango a deadly dance. He mirrors her circling without pause, watching the movement of her limbs carefully. This time, he is the first to lunge; the movement sends air fluttering through his fur, another sharp sting like a papercut that somehow nags more fiercely than a broken bone, softening the strength behind the bite. Even if he makes contact, his grasp will be loose and easily shaken; a dud as far as attacks go.

the blackbird did not need to wait long for zephyr's charge; in a mercury blur, the coywolf closed the gap.

she did not leap to the side or try to avoid it -- instead the rook countered with her own set of fangs in an attempt to jawspar or wrestle zephyr aside.

an unpleasant click as teeth connect, followed by the sharp sting of a tooth tearing through her lips. astara pushed off with as much strength as she could summon, breaking contact to resume circling around zephyr.

her tail smarted and her lip bled freely -- but still her blood flowed in adrenaline-laced bursts of excitement.

Teeth against teeth; the shadow meets his attack with a mirror of her own, and Zephyr is instantly filled with regret. One tooth snags his nose, another puncturing a lip and leaving a small tear in its wake. Blood fills his mouth, both his own and his opponent's, and he comes away coughing. Now he's pissed, and disinterested in entertaining this game any further. His next surge forward is a relentless flurry of snapping jaws, a brute strength charge in hopes of driving the woman off. He doesn't aim to make contact this time; any meeting of teeth and fur now would be pure accident on his part, unlikely to break skin. All he wants is to be left alone.

with her mouth still ringing, astara is faced with zephyr coming back in a juggernaut's charge.

she can read enough of his body language to understand he was frustrated -- the bullish swing in which he came in suggested if she allowed herself to get too close, she'd be shredded.

astara was unwilling to get hurt much further: she had a pack to protect and wolves to train. one errant wolf in wapun, in the scheme of things, was not worth her putting down her life.

so she sprung back just as zephyr's teeth clipped and pulled fur from her pelt.

a low growl sounded from her chest as she carved a large circle around the coughing zephyr. she'd made her point -- and zephyr had made theirs -- she swished her tail as she began to track wider, keeping zephyr in her sights but unwilling to allow the ghost near again.

This time the shadow truly flees, but he doesn't take any chances. He continues to chase her, pace slowing, until the distance between them widens enough for his comfort. Then he turns abruptly with a harsh snort, blood flying through the air, and takes a bow his own leave.

LOVE U ASTARARARARA

the silvery animus gave chase as soon as astara turned.

served her right, what with her feint from only moments before. she'd earned his mistrust, and every ounce of his fangs.

the blackbird continued at an open lope, listening for signs of pursuit.

at last they fade; when she turned around, she was alone in the clearing.

flicking her tail in contempt, the nightshade stalked for home.