Hideaway Strath Whims of Fate or was that strings?

900 word post, NaNoWriMo don't feel you need to match it by anymeans,
This is open to anyone and the disturbance could be anything, take her away,
just looking to get more life experiences for my girl
any all Welcome

The dark of night was a world all unto itself, shadows lurked and consumed, tiny creatures darted and hid, lived a life of fear and yet brave seclusion. Brave in the darkness they held paramount over their minuet lives to these creature leaves were big broad hiding spots if they could manage a soundless jaunt from hiding hole to hiding spot.

Mother nature gave these creature a bounty, a gift of dropped berries and nuts and other such choice nutritional tidbits were plentiful as summers warmth and heat gave way to Autumn’s cooling kiss and darker hours, these gifts were nothing to the bigger occupants of this wild domaine, but everything to the tiny lives that would sustain the aforementioned larger creatures through the roughest moment of winters harsh embrace.

The darkness began to lighten to gray even before the sun even slid ever so slowly along the horizon; it’s light peeking along the crest of the furthest point an eye can see, brought a swath of yellow, breaking into oranges as the sun slid slowly higher then pinks and as minutes ticked by purples. It was not long before the entire sky accepted the sun as it’s rightful ruler and the colours gave way to an ever deepening blue, though autumn was in full swing this day the warmth of the sun kissed the earth letting those below her know that summer was not yet wholly gone.  

A soft groan broke the silent embrace of the night as a black head lifted from the still cool underbrush, legs slid forward and toes tipped with even darker nails spread as the muscles of this being woke as slowly as the rest of the wolf did. Jaws parted and a tongue jutted forward and curled back on itself as another yawning groan escaped her throat. Back legs shifted under her black thickly fur coated body and lifted the hind quarters up. The wolf stood and gave herself a mighty shake sending copious amounts black hairs into the air. The kiss of autumn made for many changes, the leaves changed colours slowly and left their homes upon the branches to fall upon the earth and give back to the soil the nutrients they sipped in their growth. The hares began their change from brown to white in hopes of extending their lives this coming winter. Deer lost their antlers and the wolves lost their summer coat only to replace it with a thicker softer winter warm pelt. Whrist was no exception, her sleeping spot was coated in the remains of the start of her autumn shed. Nothing went to waste in nature during the nigh many loose soot blacks hairs had been scavenged and used to line the nest of mice and other assorted creature brave enough to get close to the  predator as it had slept soundly.

Without a flick of thought the black femme was off, her light steps taking her toward the scent and sound of water trickling along the ground. Casually she noted the plants and shrubbery around her dieing slowly, it always amazed her how plants would die and their offspring would be reborn in the spring. What a life to live, born as only fodder for the prey or omnivorous animals and to desperately try to spread it’s offspring in a very limited time, only half a year really. She snorted in derision at the dieing plant life, if it wasn’t so crucial to the prey she ate then she’d have no use for it at all.

The land took an uphill lift and she traipsed it easily then down again where the refreshingly cool water made it’s path through the wilds. Though her belly was full with the deer she and another had hunted not long ago thirst was now her main concern. Her black paws splashed through the waters edge until the water was half way up her legs, then to her chest. Briefly the water turned red as it washed from her the last of the remnants of the past nights hunt. Though the blood washed away the memories were not so easily dismissed. Nor would she dismiss them, she held onto them like she did everything else that was hers, jealously.

This deep into the water she did not need to bend she just lowered her head a little and lapped at the pristine surface of the water now that her pelt was washed clean. As her tongue pulled water into her mouth and then down her throat she surveyed her surroundings. What could she fill this day with? She needed something to do. She supposed she could cache the remains of the hunt, but she’d rather do something more demanding. She had energy to burn and a desire to do something worthwhile with it. Change was in the air, and this femme wanted to grab it with her teeth and …

The black head lifted with a snap, held high, water sliding along her dark chin and dipping back into the water. She scented the air with a slight curl of her lip, a desire to be out of the water where she was maneuver with more ease overwhelmed her and she made her way out of the deep stream and stood on the bank where she shook herself off. Narrowing her white blue orbs she looked around, Something was not right.

As far as the Saints go with newcomers...or intruders, for that matter, safety for non-Saint wolves was a conditional thing. 

Nyra had been watching this black loner since she, Whrist, wandered into the Strath tonight. Nyra had been still as stone, soundless, though making no effort to conceal her presence in any way. 
Still, the midnight female didn't seem to catch on until she had finished with her little bath.

The mammoth-sized Paladin turned her muzzle to the narrow mouth of the Strath for a moment, then back to Whrist, leveling her head with her spine as she stalked forward a few yards.

I wasn't entirely sure she was going to join when the post was first made, sorry if this screws up what you were going for, but Whrist has not yet met the pack so... there's that

The leaves crushed and twigs shaped even little creatures scurried away had their hiding spots upturned so abruptly, The careless strides of the peaceful mornings invader made her
Ice blue orbs flicked toward the movement.

She assessed the white being moving toward, for a moment she thought of her sire, she would not call him father for he was no such figure to her. and couldn’t help the forceful exhale from his muzzle, he was long gone, and he was not coming back.

Killing intent seemed clearly written on the white brute as the body language was holding the wolf in such a position to protect their throat and keeping teeth between the black wraith and the ghost.

She could not help but smirk now, this wolf considered her a threat by it’s body language and so it should, she was a threat to anything that wanted to mess with her or hers. She relaxed and even lifted her head, she vaguely scented Kynareth Deagon on this brute, though that quick test of the air made it clear that this colourless brute was female. The size of the female surprised Whrist but she held her face impassive not allowing any emotion but the haughty smirk to mar her face.

She had spent a night or more with Kynareth Deagon of the Abbey and though water still dripped from her undersides to the ground in an insistent pat pat pat,  his scent still clung to her especially to the still dry pelt of her back.

Wiping the smirk from her face, Whrist gave another mighty shake being sure to include her tail flinging water everywhere, hoping some would hit the other femme. Slowly she turned her gaze back to the brutish female making sure to make eye contact, she didn’t speak though her eyes invited the other to do so. The white witch was the intruder on this space and so should have the right to break the silence.

In truth, Nyra considered very few individual wolves a threat. And this black stranger, was not on that list of threatening figures. 
But if Nyra's body language made Whrist think the opposite, oh well.

The direct eye contact however, was unappreciated. Nyra lived here with the rest of the Saints, and this shadowy stranger wasn't a familiar face like the other Saints - so really, Whrist was the intruder. Golden inferno eyes held blue with burning intensity.
No words from the behemoth Shieldmaiden came.

Tense moments past, with no end in sight to the stalemate. Only water trickling behind them and the faraway chirp of the birds were heard.

Whrist noted that this wolf didn't put her in her place, if it were a higher rank, however nor did it let her blatant action go completely unchallenged.  

With a soft sigh she sat down and yawned exposing her teeth and thus breaking eye contact but exposing the teeth that sharply contrasted with her pelt. She gave off and air of indifference and reached behind her ear with her left hind paw to scratch. She placed herself in a vulnerable position giving the other time to attack and not allowing herself a proper defence, but if this one was going to attack it would have done so already.

She found her body was tender in places she wasn’t expecting and groaned as she continued to assault her ear. Now it was a game of whom would speak first or whom would leave first. As awkward as this was Whrist found she was enjoying herself.

Nyra didn't quite feel like she had the authority to have put Whrist in her place in a physical manner. Neither of the alphas had directly said so, just that she could give orders to those lower in the chain than herself. 

Besides that, putting Sasha in her place didn't fare too well with Kynareth, and she didn't exactly want to fight him a third time. 

Watching the wraith even after she broke eye contact, the Shieldmaiden eventually spoke "I'm Nyra, the Paladin of the Saints. I assume you're a new recruit?" Despite her appearance, Nyra's voice was kinder than one may or may not have expected. Tilting her head to the side a little before swishing her tail slowly, the warrior came a couple steps closer, though not by too much

She hated the white pelt of the brutish female before her, it reminded her to much of her distant past. Perhaps that is why she had felt the need to test the female before catching herself. Even now she wanted nothing more then to continue antagonizing this one but decided if they both were in the same pack perhaps it was not a good idea to create discord.

She yawned one more time then stood up, choosing not to move away. She wasn’t going to give up her space, however she did turn her body to face the white witch. Did she want her name? She supposed it would be rude to withhold her name after the other had freely given up her own.  “Whrist, I suppose I am”

Whrist sized her up one more time then grinned, maybe not antagonize but perhaps she could still come out on top she almost purred her next question “Care to spar?”

The best way to get to know another wolf was to hunt with them or to fight them. And the latter was much more fun, that and she had a full belly currently not needing to hunt nor did she really want to become pals with a colourless wolf.

forgot to mention in the roll thread that a 1 equals a miss, as does a 2 with a specialty or a 3 with a mastery ;w; 

Nyra continued to watch the other as the shadow did the same to her. 
Whrist. 
A smirk.
Spar? 
Why not.
She shrugged, padding forward to get a drink from the river.

By Whrist's hock now and without a pause in her step, Nyra suddenly came alive, teeth claiming an unforgiving purchase on and around Whrist's hip as large, wide paws also came to force the black wraith to the ground.

/ooc I'm long time RPer first time noob on dice. Since I got a darn arse lucky first roll I'm going to flow with it let me know if I got something wrong or I'm crossing lines here,


Whrist knew from the way the wolf had originally stalked up and the intent that had been plain in the others body's language at first that asking for a spar was probably very stupid on her part, this one had wanted a fight and she had just said sure let me throw myself at you on a platter with gravy on the side because I asked for it.
However she hated animosity and she had also wanted to gage this bruteish white witch from the get go. Oh how she despited the sickeningly clean white coats others gloated about. How pretty it would look spattered with red.

Her white blue eyes narrowed as her invitation was met with nothing but silence, she watched very carefully as the brute of a female moved past her feigning a drink. Something was off and she caught the smirk, adding these things together Whrist was not surprised by the ‘suprise’ attack. Though that alone did not save her, the other wolf was bigger and had more range, but She was wilier and more agile. She attempted to leap sideways as soon as she saw the shift of the white wolfs feet in the loose dirt below them, in an instant she felt the teeth dig into her thickly pelted hip, Whrist allowed herself to not only be shoved but she went with it lowering her front end.

The black wraith was not falling though, she still fully had her balance and the white legs that came up in a blatant attempt to pin her, was just the opening she needed. The flesh of her hip still held by the wolf, though not wholy the meaty part of her hip, since she had almost expected the attack, her own flesh wasn’t going to be easily torn free either.

Whrist lowered her front end almost in a crouch, ducked her head under the legs and then with with wide open jaws snapped her teeth upward onto the exposed underside of the white throat so the pair of them almost looked like a ying yang, though her hold upon the white wolf wolf would be unrelenting as the pair would continue to tumble with the laws of momentum unable to be stopped

The throat grab was quite unexpected, especially from Nyra's own distance from the shadow's jaws. 

Personally though, Nyra didnt gloat about the colorlessness of her pelt to anyone, or even to herself. She was big. She was white. That's about as far as her view of her personal ""beauty"" goes. 

Still, the momentum from Whrist's twist gave her a slight edge - she forced herself to roll over the smaller female's back, quickly rolling back on her feet with Whrist pinned to the grass... and sinking her teeth as deep into Whrist's own tender throat as they could go without directly crushing her windpipe, popping a vital artery, or straight up ripping her throat out. 

Though by the way her jaws were steadily yet quickly applying that pressure - she might. 
Hard as it might've been to believe by her savagery and feralness...Nyra was still calm and not in Fight Or Flight.

you are right she would be to small in comparison to get a decent grab I was just going for something more vital with a 10 roll, let’s fix that with this 4 roll shall we :)

Whrist held on furiously despite the tumble, but felt her lucky throat grab grip slip lower, it quickly became clear that her grip on the throat of the white witch, whom now pinned her down, was far to low down the throat to cut of any wind pipe or even jar the brute off of her,

The jaws about her throat were in a much more vital spot and the hefty weight of the wolf above her, pleaced the black femme at a distinct disadvantage. She still gripped the white flesh tight tenaciously, feeling she still held at least the jugular in her grip, though that was not as good as the wind pipe. Running though her options she could still bleed this wolf out if the need arose with this grip.  Preferably before she herself was bled out

She would not give in to panic regardless other dire circumstance, her head remained cool. This was supposed to be a spar and not to the death but she would not take anything for granted. She had been in tougher spots before, of course she couldn’t think of any right now….

Whrist shifted her body carefully, trying to get her paws between herself and Nyra was it. If she could she was going to shove with all her might at this brute, and maybe shift her neck in such a away she’d get her more vital bits away from those white teeth of her opponent.

The fact that this was a spar and not a true fight was one of the two reasons Nyra didn't simply kill Whrist and get it over with. 
The other reason? She didn't want Donovan to kick her ass again for injuring and nearly killing a packmate.

Keeping her unrelenting grip on Whrist's windpipe, she continued to hold her there. Nyra certainly had the power to do so, especially where she was continuing to tighten her group while making sure the rest of her mass was held firm, blocking Whrist from getting her feet between them both.

Truthfully, Nyra wanted Whrist to give it her all. She wasn't a dedicated fan of easy wins, so an opponent as determined and fiery as Nyra herself was, is definitely a treat. Friend or not, they could learn from each other.

DAM!! these rolls are not allowing Whrist any wiggle room it's like it knows,
But being pinned does make it harder for my poor wolf. *Smacks the dice* help me out here

Whrist's toothy grip in fustration must have been brusing but she dare not thrash to tear flesh less her own be torn aswell. At the very least this wolf was not killing her, just handing her ass to her in a neatly wrapped package.

Whrist fought to keep her mind focused there was a way out of this she just had to find it how could she use her smaller stature to her advantage She felt her claws slip, almost uselessly along Nyra's belly as she continued to scramble for purchase not at the ground but at the wolf above her. Until she just couldn't anymore she was going to keep fighting, Her blue eyes narrowed she she began to puzzle her situation out, struggleing to draw a deep breath between haveing a mouthful of thick white pelt and the hold upon her own throat.

Dice: Artificial Intelligence version lol 

So far, there was nowhere for Whrist to go. Not really anywhere for Nyra to go either, it seems. They were at some sort of stalemate once again. 

Ever-present, the Shieldmaiden continued to increase pressure bit by bit as she held the wraith down. Unless the Paladin by some miracle decided to let go, it didn't seem too likely that Whrist would hold victory in this spar. 

But, who knows?

Despite her dire situation, Unwilling to move her own throat or let go of the throat in her maw, she redoubled her effort to get her paws between them scratching, scrambling and pummelling at the white she wolf she tore white patches of fur out likely fur that was going to come out with the winter's change over anyway but at the very least it help to bolster Whrist for one more attempt at freeing herself.

Nyra's current damage roll leaves Whrist at 3 HP. If you'd like we can say Nyra wins this spar? No pressure of course! Just an option :) 

The fur coming out from Whrist's effort truly was just her summer coat being shed and nothing else. If Nyra were being honest, the loose fur being pulled out felt pretty good instead of itchy. 
Even so, Nyra continued to increase her pressure - a bit more force dealt to the clamping than she meant to give, but oh well. As long as she didn't kill her packmate through suffocation or any other means...she should be fine after this. 


Hopefully.

I set her up for one more last ditch effort, she's not one to give up, she has no self preservation instinct, but I planed on having her pass out at the end on this post if the roll didn't go her way this time. However a 9 gives me lots of room to play, I just looked it up and apparently dogs can have the wind knocked out of them like people,

Whrist roared and snarled the first noise she had made since the start of the spar she had not even yelped at the surprise nature of the first attack. She was angry now, and she wanted to win with every fibre of her being even if it meant ultimately loosing in the end.

She got her paws between them now, Seeing no other option, then to give up her hold in order to break the stale mate. She let go and thrashed with her paws, digging in and with one quick and desperate motion shoving upward with all the adrenaline laced strength and force from one whom thought death of imminent could achieve, Whrist shoved her paws only with blind luck directly into the diaphragm of the wolf above her, shoving the wind from Nyra's lungs suddenly and forcefully.

Breaking the hold on her throat of course came at the cost of her own blood but that was a thought that mattered very little to her, Right now she needed to finish this,

Whrist made to grab at the very base of the white wolfs jaw where her throat connected with her jaw and held on like her very life depended on it, She didn’t need her full strength to hold this spot for very long which was good, Whrist was nearly beaten. If she made her mark, this kind of grip would not allow the big brute to draw air back into empty lungs, not right away anyway.

The last ditch effort worked for Whrist to free herself, and admittedly Nyra was a little surprised at the sudden lack of air in her lungs that made her lose her grip on the shadow.

However, the attempt to keep Nyra from getting oxygen, even though she has fought without it before, was a grave mistake. In a life-or-death fight, it would have been Whrist's very last. 

Though ultimately the newcomer has won this match in the long run, Nyra was able to dodge the strike for her throat by rolling to the side, leaving Whrist able to get back on her feet.

Standing with unsettling ease despite still catching the rest of her breath, Nyra gave a slight, yet acknowledging dip of her head to Whrist and her victory. 

"You're a formidable opponent. Welcome to the hunt, and well done." Nyra smiled lightly. Not a fake smile in the least, just tired. That said, she shook out her pelt and padded back to the river, grabbing a drink for real this time.

fade to black? Whrist is butt hurt and needs time to lick her wounded pride haha

Breathing hard she got her paws below her and stood up and shook herself off, some blood flecked the ground but what was  a spar without blood spilled.

Whrist was not stupid she knew that should this have been a real fight she'd be dead, she had to begrudgingly offer this wolf at least some modicum of respect. She followed Nyra to the water but rather then stop at the waters edge she splashed in up to her neck allowing to cool water to wash the fresh blood from her pelt and soothe the burning in her flesh. She turned and face her opponent and nodded respectfully “thanks,” Her tone was not rude nor angry nor haughty but she wanted to speak now less then she had before.

Standing again were she had stood this morning, she lowered her head and lapped at the cool water and was not intending on getting out again anytime soon.