Felltree Marsh The blackness, the darkness forever

For @Ram Ferious <3

Tybault kept his nose low as he trudged through the marsh. The coast wasn't far from here, he didn't think — but none of the options for a path forward were good. The ravine blocked one path. And the other — close to a pack and intimidating to even think about traversing.

Rather than put too much thought into it, he was trying to hunt. The birds had returned in full force to the marsh. He watched a particularly colorful bird from afar, squinting as he tried to decide whether he could catch it. Tybault was never much of a bird hunter, though.

The stinging in his muddied pad was finally going away with the repeated licking from Ram's soft tongue. He still wasn't used to this sort of terrain, trudging through cold mud, not noticing a sharp twig or rock beneath his step. The rusty male preferred the solid, grassier biomes or a place well littered with rocks and tress to allow points of shadow to slip by unseen. He didn't fancy the idea of being so open. While his testosterone was usually provoking for confrontations, today just wasn't the day. Ram was tired and sore from travel, mentally exhausted from keeping his own self company, and a little hungry, having only snacked on smaller morsels or less than desirable leftovers from some other predator in the area. Of course, that was nothing he wasn't accustomed to in the long run. 

     A cool breeze rustled through his lightly matted fur. It was a chill he wasn't entirely expecting, and he shivered slight, his pelt standing on end to give him a little distance from the air. At least that was nice, much nicer than a dusty heat. Perhaps this area wasn't so lousy. The male reclined to a relaxed curl and closed his eyes, his wide head almost swaying atop the "pedestal" of his neck. At least this place was so far quiet. He had smelled the border markings of neighboring packs but hadn't stumbled upon any representatives yet. 

     Ram drifted off to a casual daydream, as he listened to the clamor of the avifauna, deciding what prey he should soon pursue to take the edge off his hunger pains.

Sorry this took longer than I had anticipated, I had a tiring last few days <3

Somewhere among the mud and grit of the bog, the sloshing sound of footsteps gave Tybault pause. He halted with ears standing tall, listening more than he watched even as he scanned the tangled wetland grasses for movement. After a moment, the scent of wolf reached him on the breeze; male, healthy, alone. His hackles lifted slightly, but for now Tybault stifled the tension brewing in his shoulders.

Not the best place to hunt unless you're looking for birds, He called out as he stepped toward the source of the scent, unsure whether he was within range to be heard just yet. But a moment later, he caught a glimpse of ruddy fur among the dull green. Definitely close enough to hear. Tybault paused again to let the man approach at his own pace, watching closely for anything that might confirm or deny his suspicions.

The greeting almost went unnoticed for Ram was dozing off just enough to pass the utterance off as something he'd imagined. Upon realization that the words were coming from another individual, Ram swiftly sprung from his spot and spun to find the source. Bristling red fur complimented with a lowered head, tail close to his haunches, and a crinkled disposition. However, Ram withheld his growl. He took a moment to examine the creature: fur mixed of tawny and umber colors, relatively decent sized similar to himself. Though this figure was sturdy, he didn't seem as filled out as Ram suggesting a slightly younger age, if any. He could take him on... Probably.
     As the red male absorbed the scene, he glanced at the stranger's eyes: Yellow to Amber. He contemplated the character, looking to see what the angle could be if he could discern any from the limited details of this first impression. Not really. With the moment of hesitation passing into too long of a pause, Ram responded.
     "I hadn't yet decided." referring to what prey to look for. Ram lifted his posture from startled to on guard but kept his wrinkled muzzle.  What does it matter to him, anyway? challenged Ram in his thoughts. From his experience, other males always had to stick their noses into someone else's business to look for vulnerabilities. At the notion, he lifted his tail from his haunches slightly to prove that there were none to be easily found in him.

Yeah? Tybault noted the ruddy male's wariness with a faint smirk, chin lifting slightly. Not much of a bird hunter myself. He'd never liked birds, truth be told — but that didn't matter just then.

Don't think they'll give me any trouble, though, He added with a lazy roll of his shoulders. The look in his gilded eyes was half a challenge, half a tease; he studied the man for a moment, sizing him up in his own way. The mud was a disadvantage, but Tybault decided he'd gotten the better deal. Less weight on him meant less sinking into the muck, more getting a move on.

But he supposed none of that would matter if the man simply rolled his eyes and moved on.