Hoshor Plains And besides in the mean-meantime I'm just dreaming of tearing you apart

Dreven had heard other voices carrying on the wind. It had perked his tattered ears up and he listened closely. Singular Red Eye fixed on the horizon. He was not unused to battle and blood and murder. He realized perhaps this was the best place for him, if there was a threat. But he didn't know and he didn't like making assumptions. It was too much work.

So with a vigorous shake, he began to move again along the borders. Gigantic paws ripping at the ground as he tore it up. Watering the borders with a lazy lift of leg. Fangs and claws in any brush and trees. Even if they had no threats. People would know they were here. That he was certain of.

I hope you don't mind me picking this up, noticed its been quiet. Still open to others :)

The densite had been quiet, with members popping in and out on brief occasions. It left little for her to occupy herself with.

It left few to supervise her—and her legs had begun to quiver with restlessness. She thought of that fox Cassian had gifted her in the mountains, how she wished to feel that sort of power again. Wolves like her did not often get to flaunt superior strength, after all, and so she'd take every crumb she could get, and then some.

Her frame remained bony and thin, though she'd had the benefit of leeching off of the others kills, she'd not yet gotten to taste the flesh of bison. She wasn't starved, but she surely wasn't satisfied either.

She never could be.

Taking advantage of this lapse, Envy set out onto the prairie once more under the guise of searching for more herbs to add to her building stock. Her intents were far worse this day, she could feel that familiar slow tingle of desire creep down her spine. It flooded her. Threatened to drown her were it not acted on. This savageness tore asunder that part of her which so desperately yearned to be good.

This one was all wrong, and nothing could be done about it. She could only feed herself.

She wanted heal some gnarly, ruinous injury, yet there was none to be mended. So the desire fell onto the next best thing. She wanted to hurt something. Kill something—but she was a rather shitty hunter on her own. Luckily however, she'd glimpsed the scar-torn frame of Dreven wandering betwixt the bushes and trees, tending to their borders. Wasting no time, she scampered on over, her presence announced by the light patter of her pearly mitts.

Hey again She chimes, flicking a black-tipped audit. See any intruders? Get any scrapes? Im dyin' for a good time. She huffs, continuing to idly pace in her usual, squirrely manner.

Not at all welcome

Dreven hadn't had any visitors and he hadn't sought any out. The leader knew he was here. So why did anyone else have ot know who he was or why he was here. Wasn't his problem. He attended to the borders and kept his mouth shut.

Where the young she wolf had been restless. Dreven himself was not. He always found something to do. Whether it was filling caches with smaller prey. Annoying actually when there were bigger better, prey to catch, but eh. Or he was walking the borders like a giant shadow of death.

The she wolf, lithsome and tiny was soon upon him. Red singular eye danced along her frame. She was thin. Looked almost sickly. But that wasn't his problem.

Dreven eyed her. Nope. Nah. Well theres a few ways to fill a good time. He quipped back and continued with what he was doing.

Endlessly walking around borders isn't my idea of fun. She responds with a puff, letting her head reel back and her jaws part to simply gape at the open air. No shortage of dramatics spared for this trivial, trivial problem of hers.

She itched to serve a purpose, some kind of purpose. There is nothing fulfilling about lounging around, or scrubbing the prairie for herbs she didn't need over and over in some futile attempt to gaslight herself into believing she was having fun. She wasn't. And fun was so inredibly, incredibly important to her. She wasn't sure why she sought out Dreven, given that he seemed pretty dedicated to being a walking sentinel of loathing taken form, and in his own words, was waiting to simply keel over and die—but something about his sort was ever so intriguing to her. She wasn't sure what he was punishing himself for, but she knew he was certainly punishing himself. Nobody truly wanted to die, not unless they'd done something. Had something done to them.

Or perhaps she was just naive to the way things worked. She never did pride herself on her ability to psychoanalyze.

Maybe she just wanted a bodyguard, some insurance in case she tackled something she alone couldn't handle, or maybe she just wanted to see where his little quest for death would take him. She stared him right in his marred face, unphased by the gnarled physical elements of him. It was tough to find something she would be phased by. Will you hunt something with me? She posed a request suddenly, crown tilted to the side as she awaited his answer. Her nails flexed against the dirt, anticipatory.

He chuckled darkly. He hadn't meant the borders. His disgusting comment had been just that, disgusting. But it had gone over her head much like the first time.

He looked her over. Most wolves live for the monotony there raincloud.

Take a number and wait. He could tell her all day about the things done to him, the things he did. And by the end of it she would either be so appalled she'd want to end him herself or feel pity. Neither of which he particularly wanted to play around with. Clearly he was not a gentle nor kind beast. The truth literally was ingrained in his hide.


He stared right back. One milky dead eye and one scarlet. Pest or prey.

Oh, I know. What I don't get is how anybody is satsified by that. She says with conviction, a trace of disgust lining the words that fell from her jaws.

Things had to be constantly shifting. Ever-changing. Preferably, for the better, though Envy now was beginning to see her disgrace as a blessing in disguise.

No longer was she subject to the stifling rules and stipulations of her previous home, of their wretched council. For what right did anybody have to parent her when the chance had been lost long, long ago. No longer was she shackled by fools who had no mind for evolution in all its gory facets.

...Prey. She says firmly, scampering over to him. You can save the pests for me to deal with on my own. I want a deer or something.... Really, I want one of those bison calfs, but I think the boss's would be pissed. She huffs, slightly disappointed.

Dreven shrugged a shoulder.Sometimes like it simple. What's the point of always being disappointed or disgruntled. You adhere to simple things. Never disappointed.

His voice hurt and he shifted at the irritation. He didn't think that was ever gonna get better.

He laughed and then winced. You're not wrong and I'm the wrong one to defend you. He chuckled again.

Come on then.

He bent his large head to the task of finding a scent trail.

She tilted her head slightly at his words, trying to take them in. Never being disappointed did sound like a sweet deal, but she couldn't shake the resignation it would require for one such as herself.

Simple things gnawed at her. She had a hunger for more, and it was oh so ravenous. It always had been.

Perhaps in a way, it was she who resigned to her own inner machinations. A slave to them. A servant who sat nice at the door ready to please the call of the void that so often seeped into her mind. Right now, it was seeping, and she was here, eager to obey its beck and call. What else, beyond her duties, would drive her out here, in desperate search of something to sink her teeth into. It comforted her when she was uneasy, where a mother's embrace had neglected to do so.

Her ear flicked at the strained rasp of his voice, and her gaze ogled that delicious flicker of pain dancing across his single red eye—muted and brief, but she had seen it.

That dirty, quiet part of her wondered how his face had contorted when he earned his other injuries.

A grin slithered its way onto her features. Falling into a brisk pace alongside him, she couldn't help but probe a little further. Oh I'm comin'.... How's that neck a' yours? Ya sure you don't want me to try anything at all? She'd muse, black-tipped tail swishing delightedly between her legs. A painkiller maybe? A tea with some sweet honey? A kiss on your booboo? Envy snickered, now just teasing at this point.

She secretly hoped he'd come to be desperate enough to seek her help. Pain was a miserable thing, after all.

Dreven was a wolf of simple means. He didn't want for more than he had and he didn't ask for more either. The one time he had, it had ended badly. After all look at him. But he also didn't want to have to make anyone understand that.

He saw her eyeing his throat like a deer in rut. And he sighed softly. There was different kinds of lust he knew. He had seen it intimately. He could count on his paws the amount ofwolves that relished in pain. That he had felt.

Fine. He spoke rasply. His movements tearing up the ground as they walked. On the search for this elusive deer she wanted.

It's inside. Can't fix it. Besides why fix it?

A dark chuckle. You start kissing me Envy and I make no promises that will be where it ends. He didn't really mean it, but it was like second nature for him to imply the grotesque and the risque. He had been a consort after all, and he had been a blunt one. And one who had been tested and tried by many different appetites.

Right. Inside. How'd you manage that? She'd inquire curiously without looking back at him. She was focused on the wind, and any scents that might've wafted over. Tattered ears perked and flicked, alert.

Fix it 'cause it's fun, silly. She chuffs dismissively, her tail flicking as they walked, though she would slow down, leaving a silence between them for a moment before she turned her head to look at him again. ...'Can't' pisses me off... but I get it. A little. Some things don't ever go back to normal. She says softly before a grin would creep its way across her face, she lifts her tail for effect, pointing it flat with her spine. The gentlest of crooks marred the midpoint of it, a break, never recovered. 'Consequences', or something.

Snickering, she'd continue her pace, eyes scanning along the ground. She'd captured the feintest of scents, now she searched for prints to accompany it. His more raunchy comments rolled off of her. She understood it, this time, at least, but was stuck on what the right thing to say was. Most did not approach her at all, especially not in such a forward manner, as Dreven seemed prone to do. Did that make it more, or less special, she wondered. Was he like she was? Using words that appealed only to the ones who heard them. Were they empty as her own promises often were? Were they just a shell that he'd slither out of the second nobody was around?

Regardless of the fine print, she liked the attention. It drew an amused look to her face, a pleased smile. It felt good sometimes, to be treated as a girl, and not an anomaly.

Dreven shifted. Someone tried to tear my throat out. I suppose it was deserved I did kill his friend. So. He said it without a single stitch of remorse or anything in his voice. Just a straight fact. He had killed a man and had been wounded for his trouble. It was deserved. An eye for an eye, literally and all that stuff.

Dreven chuckled. You think you can fix it. Go ahead and Try. But I am not a good or kind patient. And nine chances out of ten I won't do what you want me too anyway.

he cut his words off with a soft growl. Which was stupid, because then it hurt even more. He sighed. He supposed he deserved this.

He eyed the kink in her tail with interest and small dose of surprise. Well these things happen.

Dreven always meant what he said. If she wanted a trip around the world with him, a rearranging of organs. he'd oblige. It wasn't like that was broken. And besides he was not tied down and maybe she'd help him forget Atka. And he believed in pleasure anyway and sometimes that was the most pleasurable of activities. And it made you tired. And killed the restlessness sometimes and she wasn't ugly.

Ah. Maybe you should've been sneakier.

She had been sneaky and consequences still found her, but she offered the comment regardless. To make a mockery of murder was far easier than confronting the reality of it.

A part of her diminished his confession because she truly and honestly believed that killing is not done for no reason. She'd always killed with purpose. To eat, to experiment... To protect herself.. And so with good faith in her heart and in her mind, she makes the assumption that Dreven had been right to do as he had done. Call it a lack of exposure or a lack of understanding of the world, or sheer detachment, she did not know of any who did the act just because they could.... but she did know desperation.. She knew anger, and she knew catharsis.

Tch. Bad patient. Of course you would be. I have work arounds, you know. She flashes a devious grin, refusing to elaborate as she scampers on ahead a couple paces, flicking his muzzle with her tail as she passes.

Something caught her attention as they continued, and she dropped her maw to the soil, circling one particular spot and then raising her head to look at the trail of soft grooves in the dirt, perhaps a mule deer, or a white-tail. Either quarry was acceptable, and they seemed to lead in the direction of the boneyard. Found som' tracks~ She muses gleefully.

A harsh laugh that hurt. Maybe.

He shook his head with a snort. Perhaps he should let her do something with his throat. But he doubted she could do much of anything. It felt like it was inside. And without cutting him open, which he wondered if she would love. She couldn't see what ailed him. And he'd be damned if he let anyone near his throat with claws and teeth.

Dreven had thought at the time he was doing right. He had been anxious about wolves being near Atka. But he had soon realized that it wasn't the case and she had read him the riot act and left for it.

Work arounds? HE questioned. Though he didn't expect an answer from the scamp in front of him. She was more mysterious than even Kasni and that was saying something.

Dreven pushed blunt paws forward and sniffed where she had said. HE got what he needed from the scent and then slowly began to amble towards it. Red eye lifting up to stare out every so often, make sure they didn't surprise the creature and it ran. HE hadn't hunted with only one eye any big game yet. He was curious to see how he did.

She did a few circles, studied the depth of the print, pressed the side of her head to the ground to try and determine which direction left more of a curve in the soil as if she were some master tracker and not an amateur at best. Eventually, she'd realize Dreven had almost left her behind, and was already trailing the prints further into the prairie. She'd scamper on after him, trying to be quiet.

Hushed. Silent. One with the wind.

SNAP. She'd repeatedly manage to step on twigs and rustle the grass which shielded them—or at least her, from sight. Their quarry would have to have sustained some serious hearing loss to not be alerted.

Do you see it yet? She asked in a whispered tone, paws flexing with anticipation, she'd try to hoist herself onto just two feet, using his shoulder as a boost so she may peek over the tall grass and foliage that concealed their presence.

A snort of amusement left his maw and he shook his head as he went on past her. She was trying he'd give her that. Failing. But trying. That was what he needed to remember. And he didn't really hold it against her, honestly. Not everyone was good at tracking and hunting. Even he fell short at times.

Though every snap, every sound. His shoulders would tighten and he'd flinch in irritation. Ears laid to his skull in annoyance. But he said nothing. She wasn't making this easy that was for Sure, but he stayed true to course.

Suddenly he was surprised out of his sights by little paws scampering up his shoulders and digging into his back. He turned his head to catch a glimpse of her with his one eye, standing. It was actually kinda cute. He shook his head, amused again.

Not yet. Especially not with your loud self.

Ill toss the deer in here. Will maybe roll for success since. she sucks.

Right.... Well if you still don't see it then that shouldn't matter anyway. She lets out a light huff and compliments it with a shrug, though she does begin to put in the effort to be sneakier—and right after chastising him for his shortcomings in that exact department.

Each pearly mitten was placed carefully upon the soil henceforth, though the methodical approach did serve to slow her pace a fair amount. Luckily, they would not be held back for too long, as a mule doe slipped from the treeline tentatively, until she'd made her way further out into the open. Anxious beasts, or perhaps a mother slipped from the task of nursing, it would scan its surroundings thrice before lowering its head to graze.

Envy slinked up alongside Dreven, leaning down slightly so as to not alert the sensitive creature to their whereabouts. ... Do we chase..? Or.. get closer? ....I don't usually do this. She informs him at the perfect time with an appeasing grin. Hunting, sure, she understood it reasonably well—but leading the hunt.... tactics..? not so much.

She just liked to tear things apart. That, and her stomach was threatening to do the same to her were it not offered the grace of a meal. Hopefully Dreven would come through, she did always like it when others did the brunt of the work.

I'm fine with a success roll and dreven can also roll for wound if you'd like to practice her healing if they fail.

Dreven snorted softly. Knowing part of her was irritated possibly at his call out. But she had called him out for lack of sneakiness it only felt right

She grew more mindful and slower. But he was always going to be faster than her. So it wasn't something he was not prepared for. His stride was longer. As luck would have it a mule doe came into their path. She hadn't noticed them yet.

We can do both. You go that way. I will attack from the rear.

I rolled a 19 for success chance for her catching the thing, but since you rolled for a fail, I think I'll have them lose it after her initial hit. rolled for failure with minor injury. Alluded to a fawn nearby earlier, we can have them find that afterwards.

Roger that, boss!

Envy crept her way a little closer before springing into action, flustering the grazing doe, it reared onto two feet, kicking the air afront her before bounding into a leap—trying to escape.

Envy felt the intelligent thing to do would be to corrall the beast towards Dreven, but this was far harder than it looked, the doe was swift and held no hesitation in its hasty escape. Thinking quickly, she'd pursue and try to trip up the doe, eventually managing to clasp her jaws around a hind leg.

Rather than hold it there, she was moreso being dragged along, but she did her job in slowing the deer enough for company to arrive.

There was a thrill in her eyes as the crimson dripped down her chin.

But it was not long lasting, her delight was dampened quickly as she was shirked from grasp on the limb while the doe bucked and shook its leg free from her fangs, making her tumble a bit the moment she dropped her grip. She did not however, manage to avoid the sharp end of a hoof striking the right side of her face, leaving a shallow cut in its wake.

She spent a moment shaking her head ferociously, and then pawing at the laceration, smearing the trickle of blood that now stained her silvery visage. Right on her pretty face.

MISERABLE! A curse on your bloodline, deer! Now she had a cut and nothing to show for it!

She'd turn to Dreven, weary and scowling.

Where Envy had been tangling with the deer. Dreven had tried to get into position. But whether it was a mix of moving too soon. Or the deer being too angry or any other reason really. It could also be the simple fact that Dreven was hunting with one eye, when before he had hunted with two.

The deer delivered a kick to his ribs that elicited a sharp grunt. And some of the scars ripped open along the side of his throat, when he tried to force himself away and a rather sharp stick found it's way into the tissue there.

He growled low and let his head fall to stem the blood flow. It was nothing like the one time he had done this. But it was painful and the crimson stained the earth.

Pbbfft....That could not have gone worse. I thought you were supposed to be good at this? She spits a bit of blood from her mouth—deer's blood, not her own. There is both frustration and the cadence of a light-hearted jab lingering on her tongue.

Letting out a groan of misery, she rolled onto her back in defeat, writhing around on the ground in a tantrum of sorts, before pausing to stare at him through an upside-down gaze, in all his bloodied glory.

She got you good. She remarks, expression lifting slightly, as if simply seeing him get injured made up for the lack of a kill. Well, she'd gotten to mangle a portion of its leg at least, so there was some gratification in that.

Yet surprisingly, instead of help, she simply ogles him, scrutinizing the wounds he'd received. The opportunity to indulge in her sort of passion was right there, but she did not take it, not yet at least. She wanted him to ask for help. Wanted to see if he would do it at all, or stubbornly cling to the lacerations he'd just earned trying to kill something for her satisfaction. Sure, he had mentioned that he wanted to be left to rot, but would he be content to be felled by injuries gained in the name of her wretched self? ....Or perhaps, more likely, he would try to insinuate something else entirely to deflect from his injuries? Her blood ran hot after the chase and the tussle, as they sit in the silence of the aftermath. Though mainly it ran hot for her own disgusting perversions; the invigorating feeling of her teeth raking flesh, the scent of iron wafting off of Dreven.

...How's your throat? ..It doesn't look great. She raises a brow, laying the trail of an obvious request, before rubbing a paw over the shallow cut on her head, smearing a light splatter of crimson across her forelimb and the fur around her eye.

She was still disappointed. She had wanted something to eat just as much as she had wanted something to kill.

Mature Content Warning

This thread has been marked as mature. By reading and/or participating in this thread, you acknowledge that you are of age or have permission from your parents to do so.

The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: Swearing

Dreven chuckled darkly. First time hunting without an eye there small fry. He shook his shoulder, blood flecked off from his throat and hit the dirt. He was not feeling his best, but. He touched a paw to his throat and pulled away red. He stared at it for a second.

That beast only kicked me in the ribs. The throat was from a branch catching on the scar tissue.

HE stared at her for a minute. Both surprised, irritated and also a bit wary. And of course his blood ran hot too, but it always did. Well obviously it isn't great. The shit got retorn. Let's see if we can find something else. And then we can get this shit under control.

He motioned at his throat. Stood and slowly ambled towards where the deer had run, which conveniently was the way they had come. Sure he should have gotten fixed up. Yes he should have stopped. But Dreven didn't like unfinished things.

..Well I for one think we've blown it, with that one at least. Element of surprise's'been stamped all over. She says with a light huff, and rises from her haunches to scurry after him, before somewhat staggering her pace, and falling behind him.

She studied the scene a moment and her head would tilt in kind, a physical manifestation of her thoughts, Envy lacked the skill of hiding her inner workings. The doe had taken off in the direction they'd burst from, rather than the one she had come from initially. Sure, this could've just been a deer taking off at random, or it could've been an intentional diversion. This suspicion only found its place in her mind because in that briefest of moments when her jaws had met with the spindly limbs of the doe, she'd captured the feintest of milkscent. Were deer even smart enough to try and invite pursuit in the opposite direction of their young? Envy didn't question it, but she had a hunch and she was damned if she wasn't going to investigate it.

Jus' wait a minute. Hold on hold on. She chirped, and slithered away into the underbrush, heading in the opposite direction that Dreven pursued. It was a long moment of silence in her stead, as she traipsed through the undergrowth like a hound after a scent. She followed the previous tracks and stomped upon bracken and bramble with intensity and anticipation on every breath. It was only after rounding a particularly thick-stumped tree that she'd catch a glimpse of a fawn pressed flat to the earth, nestled in amongst the foliage.

Envy was no hunter, but she had caught a fair few little fawns in her days, and they were a particular favourite.

And here it sat like a little idiot, unmoving, as if she would be blind to it unless it sprang into action. She met its big, round eyes that scoured her the unmistakeable look of dread, and matched it with the cold, unwavering gaze of a predator. Move then, little dumbass. She found herself enjoying this staring contest, and dared the beast to flee, but it was a foreign language, and there could be no communication between hunter and hunted.

It did not move, this frozen act was all it knew, and so it invited her jaws to clamp hastily and viciously around its neck, where she'd then lift it, gangly and kicking at the air as the wretch dragged it back to the clearing where Dreven had decorated the earth with his throat-blood.

Look mmfwhat- I- mmfound. She mumbled through fur, and continued to drag the still-living fawn with an unmatched look of glee in her mahogany gaze.

Dreven chuckled darkly. You're not wrong. But we can still see. He too thought bitterly that they had failed, but it was what it was. IT wasn't as if he couldn't find her something else to munch on if he should need too. He was just pissed off and irritated now.

Though he was unsure exactly what she wanted. He did stop when she spoke out. Stared at her with barely concealed irritation, but she was already gone, before his one eye fell upon her. So he stood quietly and wondered what the heck she was doing. After all he had not been close enought to scent the doe too closely.

Then she was there with a prize and he chuckled. Looks as if you didn't need me after all little two bit. There you go enjoy.

He tilted a tattered ear forward. He should find a creek or something and soak his throat. And a nap, he was growing tired.

Busy week, back at it

She'd intended for it to be savoured for the both of them, though Dreven was already receding the catch entirely to her as he'd slink away. More pressing matters, it seemed, that re-tearing of his throat can't have felt nice.

The fawn thrashed and kicked, and she partially struggled to keep her grip on it, especially as her eyes followed him into the brush. She ended the fawn with a few harsh thrashes, and dragged it a little ways after him, dropping it and trotting alongside him again. Yer' just gonna leave? Don't ya want me to fix you up? I can y'know. I'd have to make a brief lil detour to get something, but I coooould~ She cooed, a sing-songey twist that echoed her vague amusement at the scenario. Did it hurt? A task! Just for her! Finally! This, mixed with the thrill of the hunt, however meager, was making for a giddy combination. God, it was like she'd just snorted a line, the excitement in her steps and damn near vibration of her frame did little to make her look less crazed. Covered in blood, pearly fur stained and smeared with red. What a look she gave him, anticipation seeping out.

Please, it's not like she wanted to, or anything. She hid that well.

You can keep an' eye on the fawn while I run back n' grab somethin'. Pleasepleaseplease

She wouldn't actually spend much time waiting for a response, instead relegating the task of watching over the freshly killed meat to him and buggering off across the meadow.

No worries. I apologize for my slowness, I am also busy <3

Dreven wasn't much in the mood to eat. Honestly he was pissed off. He hadn't wanted to deal with blood and a ripped throat again today. And yet here he was.

She followed him at a fast clip. Speaking in nonsense and drivel. He had to tilt his head to listen. The overwhelming buzzing in his ears making it difficult to hear. But he tried.

He stopped moving with a sigh and dipped his head and waited. Singular eye roving and rresting on the fawn. While she raced or moreso damn near skipped off. Delightful.