Sleepy Fox Hollow I think I’m doing alright.

Emmerich. Anselm ducked under the long roots of a fallen ash tree, having tracked his brother’s scent to the borders. As of late he’d noticed Emmerich’s efforts had redoubled, which caused a light smile to flit across his features. The pair of them made for good guardsmen; Paleo would grow strong between the two of them. 

His keen nose told him a coyote had delved deep into the territory sometime a day or so before. This irked him — he knew from Kinloch and Wylla both that nearby settlements were recently abandoned, why come here and steal Paleo’s food? 

Emmerich’s arresting form strode ahead. Anselm’s pace quickened, long legs churning across the soft moss-studded floor.

Despite being seen off merely a few sun cycles ago, Meridian returned to the hollow. It was too good a place for herbs and trinkets, and the reward was higher than the risk of being caught. Meridian shuffled around in the undergrowth, foraging for herbs. Seeing the wolf, she froze, hoping that the wind direction would favor her.

keeping things vague because of our other thread! <3

Anselm froze. The form ahead was not Emmerich, but svelte and dark and distinctly non-wolf. For once it wasn't his nose that warned him of danger; it was instead his youth-sharp gaze, which caught the frozen form lurking in underbrush.

The young wolf roared to life with a snarl. There was no recourse, no chance for calm discussion. Anselm answered to the oldest edict of his kind, which commanded him to kill any interloper that found itself deep within his pack's heartland.

Meridian had assumed if she stayed quiet and still enough, she could get away with hiding in the undergrowth. She crouched even lower as the wolf turned his head to face her, silently praying to the sun that he would not see her. Her prayers fell on deaf ears, proven to her with how he snarled and moved in her direction, swiftly and with intention. This wolf didn't seem interested in negotiations, unlike the last. Dropping her herbs with a look of regret, Meridian started sprinting towards the border, hoping that her agile leaps would be enough for her to escape the young wolf.

A sound akin to strangled fury loosed from Anselm's parted jaws. It stung his pride to the ninth degree to see their borders so plainly ignored. It turned his blood thick and curdled, brimming with imperial scorn for the outlander.

The coyote moved quick and clever. Anselm was a large wolf, but his build afforded him little speed and no grace. Cursorial as his progenitors were, he was built for long distances and not the sprinting chase -- Meridian's form made quick distance between them.

The discarded herbs fell to the ground in buckshot scatter, ignored as Anselm's form hurled over them.

The Paleo-born Hunter would not settle for defeat. As the meters between them grew he slung his muzzle low to the ground and tracked, intent to chase her to the ends of the earth if he needed to.

It had been Meridian's foolishness to wander so deep into their homeland. With every leap and stride she grew closer to the border, making steady distance from her pursuer. She figured that the herbs left behind were a little price to pay, seeing that the ash colored wolf continued chasing. Meridian's overconfidence would be her ruin, as she continued looking back between her sprint. Her paws tripped over something that she later recognized as a simple stick. The coyote went sailing a distance away, as the wolf kept getting closer. She hobbled on three paws, reeling from her collision with the hard ground.

Aha! Anselm’s eyes lit with schadenfreude as he watched the coyote peer back and trip. Things were falling into place and surely, this secured his victory. 

He reached deep within for a burst of speed that he knew he could not maintain for long. Hopefully it would be just enough to close the distance between them. 

As if to make a point of it, Anselm strode over the stick that had snagged Meridian without even breaking stride. She was limping now, and his hot breath came in dogged gasps behind her. 

His energy would wane soon and his pace would slacken - but not before he tried with all of his might to aim a bite at her backside in punishment.

Uh oh. Meridian flicked her gaze up at the sun, silently uttering a prayer, before nimbly dodging out of the way to avoid Anselm's bite. At least, that is what she tried to do. In her badly attempted leap, the coyote put too much pressure of her twisted paw, and ended up face down in the grass. Oops! Meridian's day had turned from good, to bad, to dangerous. 

Feel free to powerplay her a bit.

poor Meri!!

With a roar of triumph Anselm saw his moment. He envisioned the puncture and pull of his kind - ripping from limb to limb without hesitation.

Yet, as Meridian fell into the ground and Anselm fell upon her, his gaze locked with hers and he saw not prey but something alive and terrified, something distinctly other but alike --

and his resolve to kill meted into a single trickle, falling through him like boundless water.

He snarled, skidding to a halt alongside her. He felt the crunch of grass underfoot, the scent of recent heavy rain and damp soil. He curled his neck with his jaw tucked to his chest, a bristling array of teeth shown to let her know while he had stayed his hand in killing her in a cheapshot, he would offer no second chances. Get up, and fuck off. I vill kill you if I find you in my home again.

Meridian had expected to feel teeth clamping down on her tail, and yet as she waited for the pain in terror, none came. The young wolf swore that he would kill her if she returned, but rather than apologizing, Meridian felt the need to lecture him. Her stubbornness if being right outweighed her will to live. Your territory? This land is to all, in the eyes of the sun. She stood up, shaking her pelt. Meridian made eye contact with the wolf once more, and took a few steps back, waiting to see his reaction.

This was a defining moment for Anselm: for just one moment, he savored the sweet, altruistic nectar of what mercy could taste like.

And then Meridian opened her mouth and any clemency fell to ash between his teeth.

Registering her audacity, Anselm roared. Never again would he give a stranger the benefit of the doubt -- never again would he allow his softer side to show.

He plunged forward, teeth aiming to rend hide from muscle and give Meridian another hole to yip from.

This time, he would not stop.

As per Meridian's calculations, Anselm was likely going to be tired after his sprint, and by staying back a few steps as she spoke, the coyote would have an easy escape if he attacked again. Meridian's calculations failed her. The cinder wolf seemed to be in no mood for logical discussion, and when she turned to flee, his lunge caught her tail. Her cinnamon colored tail was something Meridian groomed with much care, she hated the thought of it being ripped away from her. Meridian whirled around in a series of frantic yips, lunging for Anselm's ear. He didn't need it anyway, if he couldn't listen to logic.

Anselm was in no place of logic. His heart hammered with anger that she could be so impudent.

As he seized her tail she turned, and her teeth caught the sensitive rim of his ear and ripped clean through it.

With a snarl he sought to shove her to the earth. Up close, he would quickly overpower Meridian -- but he had little chance of keeping up with her if she ran.

Imbued by fury, Anselm hoped she continued to try to fight him so he could muscle her into the ground.

I just realized that Anselm has another ear notch from Emmerich. A matching pair!

Meridian felt her tail released as her teeth ripped through Anselm's ear. She had taken note of his other notch, and couldn't help but look smug through all her desperation, at giving him a matching cut. The solar priestess was not one for violence, but right now the sun demanded blood at such adamant disrespect. She was a clever one, and took advantage of the wolf's shock and pain, steadily making a few meter's distance from him. Then she stopped, turning to face him, tail held at a confident angle, still throbbing from the force of his bite.

yes!! it's perfect. i enjoyed this thread, last for me <3

Blood seeped into the folds of his ears. An extraordinary pain in his ear announced itself, coursing through Anselm in staggering bursts.

His stride faltered each time he shook his head. Blood flowed freely now, gushing into the corner of his eyes, into the socket of his ear -- irritating, hurting, itching.

He stopped to swat his head with a paw, leaving a bloodstain on his wrist.

Ahead Meridian stopped. He'd only wished he'd gotten more than tufts of tail hair for her to remember him by -- but there was no hope of recovering the distance between them now.

Gods, she was so cocky. 

Anselm would trail her for some time after, leaving small splatters of blood every other stride. Eventually he would tire and turn for home. After this, he would likely never trust a coyote again.

Thank you for the fun thread!!!

The ashen yearling relented after giving chase for some time, much to Meridian's relief. She had given him a scar to remember her by. Meridian boldly called over the breeze, all fear replaced by a sense of triumph. If anyone asks you about that notch in you ear, tell them it was the sun's judgement! Anselm's form disappeared as the distance grew, and when the coyote was sure he would not return, she indifferently returned to collect her herbs, tail high.