Redtail Rise i hate the air he breathes

2/5 — guarding/refreshing borders

They were to build a claim here, then they must stay diligent upon their claim.

He prowled the edge of the rise, quick to mark where scents grew stale or lacked. It was easy work even if the bruise in his side from Avi protested the stretch of his muscles. They would have to make due, he could not become some sort of lush when there was so much to be done — when she had crowned him Berserkr.

The scent of a man came to Tulimaq. By now he could tell apart the few that made the rise home, and this one was not one he recognized. There was no illness to sour the stranger's scent or any sign of poor health, which made Tulimaq even more dubious to their goals here.

He would hunt through the many trees for sign of him - as he had the white wolf, who called for women and for pleasure - and in doing so, ensure only the strong persisted here.

That was the goal, at any rate. The warrior sprang from cover as he caught sight of a ferrous brown beast of a man, baring his teeth and making it known: this was a challenge.

wasn't sure if he made physical contact or not, if he did lemme know and i can edit!

It was sudden, a man upon him with teeth shown like flashing daggers.

His tail raised, hackles followed suit, a deep rumble in his own chest that vibrated with the heat of his anger. He was new, but he had been tested by the woman and carried the title she had blessed him with.

I am Berserkr, she has named me such.

It is not a gloat, but a fact, spilled out from clenched teeth.

all good!

Tested? Ah, there it was.

Between the beartrap of his snapping jaws and the glide of the stranger's ducking body: notes of Avicus. Signs that proved the truth. It did not matter to Tulimaq; he was on the warpath now and would commence a spar. She had tested the wolf and deemed them worthy of the rise - but now it was his turn.

Teeth clicked in the open air, and Tulimaq lunged, driving his weight against the packed snow to launch himself for the man's core. If he hit he would move to overpower and to dominate, and if there was to be bloodshed, then there would also be victory; but blood was not the purpose of this joust.

It was a dance he had already experienced here before, yet this time it was different. Matched against a man larger than Avi had been.

So when he absorbed the blow this time, it was not without a deeper recourse. More prone to stumble back from the heavy hit of the man. But Prophet knew he would be tested in this position time and time again. It would be good for him to take beating after beating, win or lose.

But nor did he wish to shed the blood of those he had joined. Not without reason.

He pushed forward to lunge back at the man, eager to shove him down, but aware it might be a struggle more than it had been with Avi.

They did not go down immediately. Adjusting to the thrusting weight that Tulimaq became, moderating their own body in relation. He came close, which brought a thriving joy to Tulimaq the likes of which many men would recognize.

He would change tactics quickly. Veering for the stranger's legs, tail, belly, until it was defended - and the rising up as a bear might, to grapple at the man's neck. Grabbing for their throat, neck, face - savage.

sorry this is short, im so rusty with fighting scenes :<

The man was a beast.

Hard cut with even harder tactics.

When the men encroached upon his face — after turning Prophet into a dancer to protect his limbs — he had no option but top open his jaws wide, hopeful he might redirect teeth from tender flesh of his face into a standard jaw spar. Clash ivories against ivories.

it's ok! I'm winging it too lol.

His fangs met teeth, and for a time the men dragged their fangs against the other until Tulimaq knew the only action to be taken was, to disengage.

He had previously pulled the man close with his forearms but now released them, punching with the palm of their paws, feeling the dull claws rake fur.

Tulimaq found himself terrestrial again. Pacing. Rounding himself towards the stranger with spine prickling, although another attack did not come.

You can fight. He has observed as much. It is as close to acceptance as Tulimaq is willing to grant this man (regardless of the validity of his decision). His breathing is heavy, his tail lashing.

I see why she welcomes you.

Eventually the sound of bone against bone ceased and he felt the man untangle from him.

It was a stiff worded compliment he was met with and although he did not smile or wave his tail like a child with it, he welcomed it with a warm look.

And you. He returned, as prickled as the other man.

Your name?

The man is newly appraised. It gives him time to recover from the physicality of their encounter.

Tulimaq. He answers.

This man is younger, but not as small or youthful as Ashlar, and might make a good match to the red girl if the task of finding warriors fails. If they need to make and train them... Tulimaq finds this man a more appropriate match.

Where did you learn? It would not surprise him should this man answer Tartok.

Tulimaq.

He committed it to memory, as if the man might have slipped his mind with such a grand entrance.

Prophet. He answered with a thoughtful hum that followed.

My father. He demanded we know how to defend. His mother had taught him things of the heart and mind, his father had deemed it fit to show them how to defend these things. Teeth and claw. Body slams and tangles of limbs.

Whatever it took.

His name came, and it was not in the language of his own people. Tulimaq takes this information well enough. He is pleased in his chilling way, finding his approval is not just for this Prophet but for the wealda who had first tested him. Avicus knew what she wanted and how to get it.

My people are warriors, conquerors. He boasted. I travel with my savaktuk, my hunters. While I wait for them, I have agreed to be of use to the girl. He meant Avicus, of course.

She calls me master of the hunt. Her word... I forget it, but. We are then equals.

To a point.

Warrior. Conqueror.

Neither words he wore, but instead he carried his new title bestowed upon him from Avi. And the man before him wore a title just as important but for the hunters.

They were vital to this budding group, the both of them.

We should hunt sometime. Together.

An olive branch grew between Berserkr and Ulfhedinn.

We will. It was not so strange to expect the once-warring men to hunt, not when they both served the wealda. Tulimaq grinned toothily to the other wolf, though it was brief.

For now I am satisfied. The red girl - she is young, but her judgement proves sound, time and again. This man was proof enough of that. With a pleasant rumble in his chest, Tulimaq began to move on.

For now I patrol; if she has found others to fight for her, they will be next on my list. And perhaps they will shed some blood in the process.