Emberwood Light it up

Weary paws moved from the pack lands and onto the emberwood. Muscles ached and joints ached, and the cold bit harder than it used too. But he continued on. He had known that his body would fail him eventually, and he thought he had been ready for it, but now as he went upon a downward spiral. It made him very uncomfortable.

He remembered how his mother had handled her aging with grace, and he was determined to do the same. Sandy fur, now turning lighter with age, blew with the wind.

He bent his nose to the ground, sniffing out for any type of prey. Their stores would not go empty, because his body was beginning to age. It may take him a little extra time, but he'd do it none the less. He'd go to the river for fish if he didn't catch anything.

Jackie II remained in the Emberwood, prowling the area for food as it provided him with a decent amount of shelter from the blooming winds of early winter. His winter coat was turning out to be a disappointment, as was just about everything in his life, it seemed. he meandered this way and that, his scab-crusted muzzle hovering a few inches above the ground as he searched out the scent of prey. 

Something moving in the distance caught his eye. He looked up, and it had disappeared for a moment in the woods. He moved in that direction, wondering perhaps if it had been the tawny hide of a deer he'd seen. It wouldn't likely be possible for him to bring down a deer on his own, unless it was sickly- and while he wasn't necessarily an optimist, he couldn't turn down the possibility. Stranger things existed, for sure. 

But it wasn't a deer, it'd been a wolf. An older wolf, from the looks of it. Sniffing around, leading Jackie II to believe he was also hunting. Jackie II stomped one of his small feet hard against the ground, and huffed. He issued a bark- a territorial warning. This was his hunting grounds- and he didn't want competition from some old man.

The winter coat of sandy brown was growing in nicely as it always did. But he could see where the brown was greying. The trees was cutting through the winds nicely and he was one that wouldn't complain when a small blessing was around him.

A sixth sense had warned him that he was not alone, but he wasn't too concerned. Thus far whomever was following him, had not been intent to harm, and chances were they hadn't even noticed him. He was one that blended well.

Gunnar lifted is head and raised a brow. No need to get your fur in a knot youngling. There's more than enough game here. And this is unclaimed.

Gunnar frowned at the boy with an angry sneer on his face. He was not the kindest it didn't seem, no manners. But pretty young to be alone, for a moment he warred between leaving the youth to it or trying to help, and the kind part caught up.

Would you like to hunt something to eat?

Ugh, old people had the worst expressions. So out-dated and lame. Youngling? It made him sound like he was some kind of small, weak plant, and he didn't like it. He wasn't wrong, when he spoke- the land wasn't claimed, but having been in the area for a few days, he naturally felt he was entitled to it. "Yeah well I bin livin' here, so it's my home. The more you hunt, the less there is for me to eat. You don't live here? Shove off. You're scarin' away half the prey, with the rattle of your bones, old man."

Gunnar eyed the youth and then a low warning growl jumped unbidden from his lips, as he eyed the youth. His body went rigid and he stared him down, distaste written in every plain of his face.

The child was insufferable, rude, impolite and unmannerly and he had no time for it. He was old, but he wasn't dead and he wasn't stupid.

I have been here in these lands since before your mother was born child. You have no leave to tell me of what I can do, of where I can go and the words that come out of your mouth are obnoxious, rude and rather ignorant. Clearly no one cared about your upbringing.

There was a shift ot his expression. My bones maybe old, but they don't rattle. And the mouth on you scares more prey than the way I move.

Jackie II shuddered when the man growled. His tail remained low, but it waved, portraying his amusement but also his cowardice. The grimace on his face was part grin, part scowl. Even he did not know how to make himself any more intimidating to support his hostile words, and it showed. The sandy male, on the other hand, definitely looked like he'd had some experience learning dominance. He had confidence, and that made Jackie II nervous. He tried to laugh at the man's words but his laughter was more snivelling than anything. 

His mother. 

He hated it when others talked about his mother, but whenever he let that get to him, he typically got his ass handed to him immediately afterwards. "If you bin here so long, why ain't you claimed it then?" He shot back, surprising himself with even that amount of cleverness. 

And when an insult was sent his way, Jackie II snickered. At least the guy hadn't already initiated a physical fight. He doubted the man wanted to, at all. But a verbal one? Heck, they could toss words around. "I can smell the stench of old, rotting-on-the-inside man smell from a mile away. That's prolly how you catch your prey eh? They catch wind of ya an' they think 'nahhhh it's just an old geezer wolf, he can't catch me.'"

Gunnar stared at the youth, with irritation. I didn't claim it, because I already have a pack.

His growl was sounded again, and he moved forward, stiff legged. He could have hurt the boy, but that was not his style, not truly. But what he could do is show him who was boss. He leered forward, teeth snarling.

Watch your mouth child.

It was clear the youngling was not trying to be a hard ass. What he was trying to do was be bigger than he was, and Gunnar did not err him that. After all he had been young once, and hard.

If he had to, he'd knock the child to his knees. Not to hurt, just to teach him a lesson. Though he could also help him hunt, if this child would only put his pride away for a moment.

Now i'm hunting. You can come with me and perhaps learn something other than ignorance or continue to cower and throw insults.

"I neennnn't neem it, because neee neeerrrdy neee ne neeee-ouf!" 

Jackie II had begun to mimic Gunnar before he'd even had a moment to register what it was the man was saying. And while doing so, he crossed his eyes, and looked up, just so he could look a bit touched as he did so- and unwisely, left himself vulnerable to the man's approach. He was sent scuffling backwards, bristling and baring his teeth, but he did so silently, back curved and tail tucked. He'd been shoved around enough in his youth that his body automatically moved to submit, despite the sour look on his face. 

He flicked his tongue over his teeth, trying to recover as best as he could while he was offered the chance to accompany the man, and learn something. But only at the compromise that he not be an absolute pain in the ass, which was a total dealbreaker...Until his stomach clenched and rumbled. He eyed the man, judging him. If he hunted with the man, he'd get fed. And maybe, just maybe...He could make off with more than what he'd bargained for. After all, the man had a pack to get back to. He couldn't just abandon it and chase Jackie II forever, to get the food back. 

"Fine. I'll do you that favour just 'cause you obviously need the help." Anticipating another punch might be thrown, he skittered sideways as soon as the line was delivered. While there was still a sly look to his smile, he began to scent almost immediately, as a means of showing that that was possibly the last smart remark, and that he would focus on the task at hand now that he had that out of his system.

Gunnar's eyes rolled at the boys display. And he sneered. Touched.

Then he turned away, he had known wolves like this. They acted larger than they were, usually because they had some sort of pain somewhere, deep inside. And sometimes they got over it, sometimes they didn't. But what Gunnar didn't have to do was sit and take it. A small smirk colored his eyes as the boy cowered, then he felt like a total ass, and turned away quickly. Furious at himself for even giving into the youth's clear immaturity. Perhaps that was the Lodbruk in him.

Gunnar snorted. Keep lying to yourself child.

Gunnar bent to the task of also scenting. Not that he didn't trust this coywolf beast, but well he didn't trust him. There was a shifty look to the youth. A youngling who had grown up hard and mean. It was a shame really. He hoped that boy could find a new lease on life someday.

Well that was a disappointment. Just when Jackie had been ready to work as a team, he was left behind. It made him frown, and growl softly to himself. "Whatever," He murmured under his breath. Jackie didn't like it when others wouldn't simply enable him. It seemed as though he was always either getting bullied and beat up, or that he was being left behind, and he'd never learned how to balance out his behavior in order to avoid both. 

So, he huffed softly and began off in his own direction. He'd had enough of this forest, and if it was close enough to Gunnar's pack, then he wouldn't want to stick around the area. He was too cool for a pack of geriatric geezers and their stuffy leader anyway.

It took Gunnar a minute to realize the boy wasn't following and he turned back the way he had come. The boy was going his own way, with a surly expression on his face. And despite that he didn't really want it too, his heart went out to the youth. He moved closer, longer limbs tearing up the ground, and gave a loud chuff.

What are you doing, boy?

Gunnar motioned him this way. Clearly we have some work to do we want to get something done as a team. So you scent. See what you can muster up. I'll help catch it.

At first, Jackie II thought the man was purposefully moving closer so that he could use his presence to ward him off, and he muttered under his breath, words that would be too faint for him to hear, barely moving his lips. When he glanced again, the man was closing in on him, which prompted him to hasten his step, but he'd misjudged just how quickly the man's rangy gait gained the ground between them. 

He made an ugly, confused face and shrugged. He'd assumed he'd been dismissed. Such was his interpretation of what 'keep lying to yourself' meant. Instead, he was beckoned, and then told what to do. He wouldn't move an inch closer to the man, as it was clear they already had problems with their communication. And now that a direct order was given, and an invitation extended, he wasn't sure what to do with himself. He wanted to defy the man. He certainly didn't want to get any closer in case he screwed up again, and the man saw fit to beat him for it. He locked in on his dysfunction, and looked away pointedly, incapable of sorting out whether he should finally do what he was being told to do, and risk getting beat for making a mistake, or just dodge completely.

Gunnar had been a rover all his life. So it was of no surprise to him, that he could catch up to the youth. He had a sure step and a loping gait. Though, the ugly look that crossed the youth's face drew him pause. Good lord what had been done to this child. And immediately shame infused him as he realized he had been an ass too. Granted the youngling had deserved a sharp tongue of course, but Gun could've handled it better.


Gunnar sighed. Let's start again. I'm Gunnar. And I'm hungry. So we're gonna go hunting. Buck up boy. Today hopefully you learn something new.

Gunnar motioned for the boy to follow his lead, the ball was firmly in his court, as he bent his nose back to the ground and began following the trail of some sort of prey animal. He wasn't sure what it was exactly, his nose wasn't as good as it used to be. He could still tell it was prey of course, but what it was he didn't have a good enough snoot full yet. He would soon enough.

With wide, glaring distrust he eyed the man as he introduced himself. Gunnar. What an old man name. He didn't like that he wasn't in charge- but he didn't really mind not having all of the responsibility being pinned on him. Gunnar released a bit of pressure by turning away with that invitation, and beginning to sniff along as he went. 

Jackie II paused for a few moments, and noticed that Gunnar seemed to have found something worth investigating. Well, maybe he'd have to check it out, too. So he slunk after the man, nose down, wary of any sudden movements he might take but at least willing to try and participate. He was still not best pleased he was being involved in something. It felt like a chore. So he sniffed here and there, but more as a show than in earnest....Until he caught the scent that Gunnar had found, and stiffened. He grunted, to get the man's attention, before he stepped aside, allowing him to judge the scent himself.

It didn't go unnoticed, that he gave his name, but was not entrusted with one in return. Though Gun doubted he could blame the boy. It was clear that he had not had an easy go of life, and he trusted no one. Perhaps if he had been raised differently, even he would have been mistrustful.

Guns heard the grunt and turned, gun metal grey eyes to the boy, covered in mask. He saw the boys stiff legged stance, and point and knew they had found what they were looking for. He moved a little closer and nodded his head.

You caught it closer than I. Lead the way youngling.

Gunnar hid a smile, knowing the youth would hate to be called as such. Though he felt bad for the boy and had initially wanted to tan his hide. He was growing a bit of an amusement for the pouting nature of the boy.

"Youngling" made him grimace and flinch. "Jackie." He grunted, clearly disgruntled by the previous moniker though he had definitely been called worse in his lifetime. he didn't really want to be put in charge, and as an indication of his reluctance he kept his tail clenched between his hind legs. He didn't like being followed, and kept his head canted so that he could keep an eye on Gunnar. It was distracting him from focusing on his tracking, but she scent was fresh enough that he could follow one interest with his nose, and keep an eye on the other with his peripheral vision. 

"Smells like rabbit." He informed, glancing back. He didn't expect Gunnar to be terribly impressed. Figuring out what kind of prey belonged to what kind of tracks wasn't exactly genius level work.

Ears tilted towards the soft grunt of a name. And Gun hid a smile. So the boy was named Jackie. It fit him well enough. Jack was a little more mature, but Jackie that suited the boy just fine.

Gun saw his reluctance to lead, but he wouldn't learn any other way. The boy was watching him and trying to follow the scent trail and Gunnar shook his head.

A few rabbit or just a couple? If it won't be enough for both of us, we may want to find something else. Well done finding the trail.

How much did this old man expect of him? 

When he was questioned, Jackie turned a harsh, incredulous gaze toward him as though he was offended. He didn't like being quizzed. Was this his way of trying to be a mentor? It made him bristle. He didn't like being tested, or asked questions he didn't know the answer to. Even when he did know the answer, he hated it when others checked to make sure he knew. It was like the man was implying he was dumb enough to not know. 

He sent a little rock flying with a flick of his forepaw and frowned at the ground for a moment. 

He still wanted to get a meal out of this. He had to find something to eat, and this man was his ticket to a meal, whether he liked it or not. But now that he knew Gunnar expected him to possibly catch his own rabbit, if there was more than one, he began to worry that he might fail, and not get a meal at all. If Gunnar suggested they hunt deer, he'd have to bail; there was no way he'd have any success hunting a deer. And even if they did hunt rabbits, there was the chance that Gunnar might get one, and he might not. If that was the case, he'd have to steal from the guy but...He honestly didn't look as frail as he had before. The man moved way too fast. 

"Depends on yer definition of 'a couple' versus 'a few,'" He said. His own grammar was horrible, but it didn't stop him from being a critic. "We'll have better luck with rabbits." That was the call he made. He looked up at Gunnar, then, to see if he was still game. If he wasn't satisfied, he could wander off and try and hunt whatever else on his own. The scent was good enough now, Jackie II wouldn't be terribly discouraged if the man left. More for him, in the long run.

Gunnar allowed a gentle smirk to light up his eyes. The boy could take it however he pleased. If he wanted to get offended over a lesson, so be it. Though Gunnar was content in his thoughts that the boy needed food, or he wouldn't be with him right now.

 Gunnar chuckled. Very well then. Lets go get rabbits. Do you prefer to bark into the holes or chase?

Gunnar had no preference, and truthfully, he didn't need a meal. He had seen a youth with a chip on his shoulder, that needed to eat. And he wanted to both teach him a lesson and help him better himself, while not starving. That seemed fair at least.