Sunspire Mountains Back in my hometown

Shey wasn't much of a wanderer, often staying in the place he'd known since he was little, the mountains. So after his trip down to the forests, he was back in his hometown. His den was the same as it was, so after sleeping the night there, he headed out in the morning for something to eat.

Dusty hadn't been a wanderer either, right up until about two months ago. But the bug had bit, and now he was out in the wide world all on his own.

Mostly.

But the coyote that had been doggedly trailing him all this way was currently shaken, and with any luck, would stay that way for a while longer. Dusty felt guilty for dodging him, but he was still determined to make it on his own, and no amount of the flower eater's soulful staring or insistence that his father's heart would be broken could bring him back around.

So, y'know. He was doing his thing. Walking. His black nose was twitching insistently, his satellite dish ears on the swivel with the scent of another wolf on the wind. Dusty's tail was already wagging in preemptive supplication — he wanted to make friends, and if that wasn't what the other wolf wanted, then Dusty wanted to make absolutely certain he'd be run off rather than savaged. He wasn't worth a fight, his body language said.

He came out of the treeline to swing wide around the base of the mountain, and then when he spotted a moving figure, changed course to gravitate toward them. Opposite the usual effect, he seemed to grow smaller as the distance closed between them, until he stood about ten feet away and collapsed entirely, paws planted firmly to keep himself grounded, but showing just enough belly to say, I've already surrendered! Let's skip the fight.

The coywolf saw all this as etiquette, and had high hopes that the other male would be just as amicable. He had ready a wolfish, open-mouthed smile and a frenetically wagging tail — a universal sign of good will, if the other didn't happen to speak the common tongue.

Hi! No pressure to match length. My posts will probably get shorter now that I've got the exposition out of the way, anyway.

Shey had scented the other canine before he spotted him. His scent was a little different than other wolves so Shey wondered if he wasn't a wolf at all. He'd heard of coyotes and dogs but had never met one himself. 

The canine soon showed himself, and to Shey, he looked partially like a wolf, but leaner and a little smaller perhaps. Kind of like a... mix between two species. Shey found that cool. The coy...wolf(?) soon showed himself to be no threat, as he stood in a submissive pose. Shey padded up to him, jaw opened and tongue out as well, and tail wagging, to show he was friendly as well.

"Hey!" He said in a friendly tone. "My names Shey, whats yours?" He asked, getting pretty close to the coywolf.

definitely cant match your post length but this is long for me.

The other wolf’s body language didn’t fly any red flags, but Dusty still stayed low until Shey was practically on top of him. Only then did he pop up, returning the greeting with a cautiously cheerful, “Hey. I’m Dusty.”

He didn’t mind getting close, since Shey smelled strange and interesting to him as well. His black nose twitched as he investigated, but none of the scents he’d learned to look out for were present on this pelt.

They were exactly a month apart, and might even grow to be about the same size — but for the moment, Shey outweighed him by a good few pounds. Since the wolf was friendly, he didn’t think much of this inherent threat.

“You’re all alone,” he told the other wolf, sounding just a little bit disappointed. Mainly, however, he was curious: how long had that been going on?

if you wouldn't mind putting dialog in bold, that'd be helpful!"

"Nice to meet you Dusty." Shey said. He noticed Dusty smelling him, knowing he probably smelled unusual to him as Dusty smelled unusual to Shey. He sat down a couple feet in front of the coywolf. He too noticed their similar age now that they were closer, but whether it was species or just size in general, Shey was slightly larger than Dusty. He assumed Dusty wasn't done growing yet, as Shey wasn't.

When Dusty commented on his aloneness Shey nodded. "Yeah, I haven't lived with anyone for most of my life. When I was 4 or 5 months my family cast me out. I was the runt and couldn't keep up as fast as my brothers so they didn't see any purpose of keeping me around. They probably assume I'm dead, but despite being a small pup on his own, I figured out how to survive by myself." Shey explained. "I do find other loners now and again though, like you." He added.

The wolf was very talkative! Dusty listened attentively to the tale, a little shocked by the cold-hearted turn of events. Of course, “ ... My sire ate the runt,” he shared, even though this was something he’d usually keep to himself. “It was an accident, though. Sort of.”

Dusty didn’t know much more about the story than that. He remembered, just vaguely, that Wildflower had been fussing, and then suddenly he hadn’t. And he remembered the smell and taste of blood in the den for days afterward, and that the flower eater had regurgitated something for them to eat that day. As for the why and the how of it, he didn’t know. The flower eater went very quiet and cool in the eyes when Dusty and his siblings tried to ask him about it, and Dad wouldn't hear it spoken of without swift reproof.

“I’m not really a loner,” he tried to explain. “I’m just kinna exploring. Seein’ what all’s out here.” And, y’know. That left him sort of alone. But that wasn’t his role so much as a present circumstance, and anyway, “Neither of us are alone right now,” he pointed out, now comfortably past his initial wariness. He made a sudden move, tapping the ground with his front paws in a bow more challenging than playful.

“You wanna wrestle?” he asked, his tone suggesting that an answer in the negative would make Shey very yellow indeed.

"Still, I live alone, and start off wandering alone, so I call myself a loner. Outsider or Rogue doesn't sound any better, and those are the only terms I know for a non-pack wolf." Shey explained.

The young wolf and puppy energy still in him was instantly awakened by Dusty's attempt to start a wrestle. Shey dropped into a similar pose and wagged his tail. "Sure!" He replied happily. He had last wrestled with his litter-mates before he was cast out.

Dusty didn’t have an answer for that, mainly because he’d only wanted to comfort the other wolf rather than argue semantics. Besides, he sort of liked the term rogue and was now thinking about adopting it for himself. He thought it sounded cooler than loner, at least, and not nearly so sorrowful, either. He’d been raised to believe that lonesome was about the sorriest thing a wolf or coyote could be.

So clearly, it was his duty to wrestle this poor creature. If only he’d known it had been a year or more since he’d last played such a game! Dusty might’ve wept for him, or he might just have played a little harder.

As it was, Dusty had made a game out of trying to turn Shey’s ears into chew toys. As soon as the other wolf bowed, he’d lunged for his face with his snipey maw, his many teeth shutting harmlessly over whatever piece of his new friend he could manage to get ahold of. And he was a quick fellow, sleek in form and wily in nature, but half the fun of a good wrestling match was tumbling to the ground. So he was easily caught if Shey tried, and with the extra pounds the other wolf had on him, he wasn’t terribly difficult to wrestle to the ground.

Shey was caught off guard by Dusty's nip towards his ears, as he was rusty when it came to wrestling. But he quickly shook his head to get the smaller canine off of him. He pressed forward into Dusty's chest with his shoulder, with enough force to get him to the ground, but not to hurt him. Shey liked the game better on the ground because then you got to roll around with your opponent, which was fun

Although he was a bit of a lightweight in his current state, Dusty was a difficult wolf to pin down. Oh, he was thrown to the ground and tossed around quite easily, but he had a way of getting his paws back underneath him that seemed incompatible with possessing a skeleton. He was quick and he was bendy — but in close quarters, it still wasn't too difficult for a larger animal to gain the upper hand.

Still, Dusty put his all into it, scrapping as best he could until a tender spot on his scruff was tweaked, and he let out a yelp of surprise and clamped his teeth down on the nearest piece of Shey he could find. A more painful bite than any other he'd aimed the other wolf's way, but still far more scolding than aggressive.

In any case, it was only a quick snap before he tore himself from the wrestling match regroup.

"Ow," he accused, shaking out his pelt and then plopping down on his rump to scratch furiously with his hind leg. Tufts of fur glued together by flaking scabs and clumps of crusty serous fluid went flying in a cloud through the air, and the resultant thinning of the fur on Dusty's scruff revealed a colorful array of puncture wounds. Nothing serious, but it was certainly still itchy and sore — and clearly a few days too old to have been inflicted on him by Shey.

Shey backed up imediatly as Dusty yelped. He hadn't touched him, as far as he knew, but it seemed he was in pain. Dusty seemed to think Shey had bit him or something though, guessing by the sharp bite that was thrown at his lower leg. Shey winced but even though the bite drew a bit of blood, it didn't hurt too much and Dusty seemed more hurt.

When he shook his pelt, Shey noticed the puncture wounds. They looked like they may turn infected. "Hey, I see those puncture wounds, how old are they?" Shey asked, concerned

His own dandruff made Dusty sneeze hard enough that he stumbled, but he made an effort to maintain a buoyant attitude.

"About a week," he replied, shaking out his pelt once more and then romping forward to crash into his playmate. He leaned his shoulder hard into the other male's, not quite up to a full attack but disguising an attempt to shove him off-balance in a lupine hug. "My dad still thinks he can carry me. He tried to drag me back home when he caught up the other day."

Saying so made Dusty feel just a hair more guilty than he had thus far. Here was a guy who'd been banished from home, forced to grow up without the support of a loving family, and here was Dusty trying to escape his own — and throwing it in the other wolf's face.

"But hey — look at you now," he said, picking up in the middle of a conversation they hadn't actually been having. "You're a pretty big guy. And you survived all on your own. I bet your folks'd feel pretty stupid if they could see you now."

That didn't feel like the right thing to say, but Dusty had never had to talk to someone with such a sad story before. So his sire had eaten his brother. Big deal. At least he'd had them!

"D'ya ever think of trying to find them?" he wondered, unable to help himself. It was just that he couldn't imagine life without a family, even if it was the kind one wanted some distance from. And maybe there was a chance! Maybe they would accept him back into the fold! Dusty couldn't imagine his own parents ever turning him away, even though he'd spurned them both terribly by leaving the way he had.

"I left that area long ago, where my family was. Sure it was mountains, but different than these. When I was 6 or so months I started to treck as far as I could, and half a year later arrived here. Its been my home ever since." Shey asked, ignoring the push Dusty gave him, though it had made him stumble.
"Keep an eye, or a nose, on those puncture wounds. they could easily get infected." Shey added, trying to change the subject from his family.

Dusty was far more distraught by this revelation than Shey seemed to be. The hopelessness of the situation stole into his own heart and conjured his own fears: that he might never go home to the red desert again. The distress made him lean just a little bit harder into his new friend, and he was frantic to heal the situation but without the tools or wisdom necessary to do so. Still, he felt almost that Shey giving up on his own family was a bad portent over Dusty's own future.

He was glad when the other wolf took charge of the conversation and steered it elsewhere, even though he felt terribly guilty for failing to comfort his new friend.

"Oh?" he asked, craning his head to try and get a look at the scabbing wounds. He couldn't, of course, but his expression read wonderment rather than concern, as if he thought it was a mightily impressive act for a wound.

It wasn't, of course. And while the punctures weren't healing too well with all his scratching and rolling around in the mud, he was not yet in any danger.

"Don't worry about me," he insisted, rising up briefly on his hind legs to make another grab for Shey's ear. He wanted to give it a firm tug (this biteyness seemed to run in the family!) in the direction that he'd come from. "Let's eat something," he said, leading the way back toward the rabbit warren he'd crossed to reach the other male. "We can dig up some bunnies. It'll make you feel better!"

As if Shey were the one who needed to throw of his anxiety.

"Sure, lets go hunt." Shey said, following Dusty after the tug he was given on the ear. He had scented the rabbits as well but he wasn't really hungry. A hunt would be fun though, and he could always eat.

sorry for the short reply, dont have much time and wanted to get it in!

Shey might as well not have spoken for all the mind Dusty paid him, but it amounted to the same thing: they were gonna go dig up some bunnies.

Digging was something that Dusty had always excelled at. His proclivity for digging holes to lie in had, perhaps, helped to determine his name back when his parents were still deciding who was who. It was a skill that had served him well over the past year-and-some-change of his life; in the red desert, the sun was hot enough to bake anything smaller than a rabbit, and so many creatures made their homes under the earth. Dusty might still not be patient enough to be a good stalker, but boy, could he dig up a grub.

"It's strange out here," he said as he poked around in the grass. "There's water everywhere. Don't it ever flood?"

His ears swiveled, and he picked his head up to see what Shey thought of this.

"Where I grew up, we had to travel hours to get to this little stream. Sometimes it wasn't even there, and then once or twice it was mud and grit and branches surging through the desert, casual as you please. That's how come we don't live by the water. 'Cause it's liable to come up and bit'chya if you turn your back."

"Yeah, I bet it has flooded here. Probably after a heavy rain or snow, or even if winds pick up the water from the stream enough." Shey said, though he hadn't seen it flood in his time living here.

Shey wanted to get on track though so he started sniffing around the ground for the freshest smelling rabbit holes, so he could find one to dig up rabbits from.

“Heavy!” Dusty repeated, indignant and bewildered. This weather had seemed pretty heavy to him! But he supposed he had a lot to learn about this place, and that stories from his fathers wouldn’t cover every little fact of life.

Recovering from his short fit of pique, Dusty participated in putting his nose to the ground. He found a hole quite easily, being not nearly as discerning as Shey in regards to how and where he spent his energy.

“You’re a quiet fella, Shey,” he grunted as he dug into the earth, already up to his withers in the dirt, shovel-like paws scrabbling while his head poked out at an awkward angle, nose-to-the-sky. “Whatcha doin’ around here, anyway? Ain’tcha wanna find a pack or somethin’?”

"Yeah, I do want to find a pack. Or maybe create my own. I explore sometimes, I might go down by the Redtail Rise at some point, heard there's a pack over there." Shey told Dusty. "If I started a pack though, would you join it?" He asked.

It was something of a novel concept to Dusty — the idea that a wolf could just... gather more wolves and call themselves a pack. He heard at first something far more intimate from the stranger, and he was taken aback until he realized the man only meant they band together, and not necessarily raise a family.

"Maybe," he said, interested in the idea but unwilling to commit to something so nebulous. "What's at Redtail Rise?" he wondered, only half to distract his new friend. He really was interested. And he wanted especially to know, "Who told you about it?"

"Theres a pack there that I've heard is solid. I've never been down there but some of the more seasoned wolves living in the sunspires have told me about it. Some are from there." Shey explained. "Perhaps you could journey with me to the Redtail Rise, even if you don't want to join the pack." Shey suggested.

It was tempting, especially since Shey seemed much friendlier than the wolves he was currently trying to integrate with. Dusty liked him and was a little disappointed that he was already destined to head in another direction.

"I can't," he said, his tone apologetic. "There's a pack in the mountains I'm trying to befriend. And if I travel too far..." He didn't want to say that he was worried someone might catch his scent. "Maybe I'll see you again, though. I might make it out there someday."

Shey's expression changed from hopeful to disappointed. But he understood. So with a nod, he said "Alright, well, best wishes with that pack you're trying to join. And I really do hope to see you again sometime." He added with a smile. 

Then he dipped his head to Dusty. "See ya around, Dusty." He said, then started his way towards the redtail rise.

last post for me! feel free to wrap it up with Dusty or just archive the thread. I really enjoyed this RP. <3