Bearclaw Valley what's fine

mercenary spree

Cole moved steadily along the snow-dusted border, his golden eyes scanning the terrain with practiced ease. His ears flicked toward the faint crunch of snow behind him, @Tvar’s heavier steps a steady presence at his side.

Quiet today, Cole murmured, the faint rasp of his voice breaking the silence. His breath fogged in the crisp morning air as he paused briefly, nose twitching to catch any unfamiliar scents on the wind.

The quiet wasn’t unwelcome, but it always kept him on edge. Borders were no place for complacency. With a glance toward Tvar, Cole resumed his pace, his tail flicking behind him as they pressed on.

tvar followed alongside cole, snow crunching audibly beneath his weight. his sharp hazel eyes swept the treeline, routine procedure that was nothing more than a boring drill. yet he spared no expense as to skip it.

“aye.” he mumbles, nods, in agreeance. his gaze shifted briefly to cole before returning to the path ahead. he knew better than to let his guard down along the borders. quiet could mean calm, or it could mean a pack of rabid rogues waiting for the right moment.

he sniffed the air, noting nothing out of place, before falling back into his steady rhythm. his breath rose in faint clouds, the cold air sharp against his lungs.

Cole’s nose twitched as a faint scent wafted toward him on the cold air, cutting through the dull monotony of their patrol. He paused mid-step, lifting his head to inhale deeper, ears angling toward the source.

Hol' up, he murmured, his voice low but firm as his golden gaze turned sharply toward the treeline. The scent was faint but unfamiliar, carrying with it the musk of something—or someone—that didn’t belong.

He cast a glance at Tvar, the faintest flicker of tension crossing his features. Smell that? he asked, his tone tinged with quiet caution. Without waiting for a response, Cole veered slightly off their path, his steps deliberate as he moved closer to investigate. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t go unnoticed.

could be an npc coyote or sum

tvar halted.

sharp hazel eyes narrow slightly and he turns his head toward the treeline. the faint breeze carried the scent now, tugging at his nose—a musk, unfamiliar and out of place. his posture straightened instinctively, muscles coiling.

"aye," he muttered in blunt response, voice a tense timbre. his gaze flickers toward cole briefly, catching the tension in the other wolf’s frame. it wasn’t often something put cole on edge, and that alone was enough to sharpen tvar’s focus.

“doesn’t belong,” he remarked quietly, though more to himself than to cole.

tvar’s sharp gaze scanned the area, his breaths slow, visible as they skirt up into the air and swirl in rivs. then came a yip on the wind. immediately, he tenses, each muscle coming to light within his stoic body. he could see their shapes now, moving just beyond the trees—sleek, wiry forms darting through the trees.

a pack of them.

a low rumble built in his throat—a warning, meant to carry across the clearing.

Cole’s ears twitched, his dark eyes narrowing as the scent hit his nose. It was faint but unmistakable, a mix of musk and wild desperation that only coyotes seemed to carry. His tail stiffened behind him, and he shifted his weight forward, muscles coiling beneath his thick pelt.

Coyotes, he muttered, his voice low and steady, more a statement than a question.

The yip on the wind confirmed it, followed by the faint sound of movement through the underbrush. His head tilted toward Tvar, catching the other wolf’s readiness, the same tense focus that now coursed through his own frame.

Cole sniffed the air again, pinpointing their numbers—too many for comfort, but not enough to spark outright fear. Still, coyotes weren’t known for their boldness unless desperate.

Best not let ’em think they’ve got a shot here, he said, his tone calm but firm. His gaze swept toward the approaching shadows, and with a low rumble building in his chest, he took a step forward, positioning himself beside Tvar, ready for whatever came next.

they swarmed.

their sharp teeth bared and their yips transforming into snarls as they snapped at the legs of the two brutes. the pack circling like vultures waiting for an opening. one darted in, aiming for cole’s flank, while another lunged toward tvar, jaws snapping with wild desperation.

more poured in from the shadows, their numbers overwhelming even as their individual attacks were erratic.

eyes locked onto the closest of the wiry scavengers, and with a powerful surge forward, his jaws snapped around its scruff.

a growl tore from his chest as he shook the coyote violently, its limbs flailing helplessly before he hurled it into another approaching figure.

Teeth bared, snarls replaced their yips as they darted and circled. One lunged for Cole’s flank, another snapped at Tvar.

Cole’s eyes locked on the nearest scavenger. With a surge, his jaws clamped around its scruff. A deep growl rumbled as he shook it violently, hurling the limp body into another.

Another coyote leapt for him, but he spun, jaws crushing its shoulder. Pinning it to the snow, he ended it swiftly. Blood stained the white beneath him as he glanced at Tvar, ensuring his packmate held strong, before turning to face the next.

a sharp snap of his jaws caught one coyote mid-lunge, its yelp cut short as he clamped down on its scruff. he twisted sharply, using his weight to cast it a few feet away. it was back on its feet within seconds, though skirting off, yipping fearfully as it went.

a limp upon its back leg. twisted, mangled. broken.

another coyote darted toward his flank, jaws snapping for his hind leg. tvar spun, his paw striking out with force, sending the scavenger stumbling back with a sharp whine. his growl resonated low and deep, a sound that echoed through the clearing as he advanced on the next threat.

tvar turned back to the fray, his focus unwavering as he lunged at another coyote, aiming to crush its momentum and drive it back into the shadows where it belonged.

Cole’s breath clouded the frigid air as he pivoted, his powerful jaws closing around the neck of a coyote that had miscalculated its approach. With a sharp shake, the life in its wiry frame was extinguished, its body slumping to the snow in silence. His muscles coiled and released as he stepped over the carcass, his gaze narrowing on the others.

The remaining scavengers hesitated, their circle breaking apart as Cole surged toward another. This one snapped and yipped, its fear betraying it as it lunged sloppily. Cole met it head-on, his massive frame colliding with the smaller beast. It writhed beneath his weight until his fangs found purchase, ending its struggle with grim efficiency.

Beside him, Tvar’s ferocity mirrored his own. One by one, the pack’s numbers dwindled. Some lay lifeless in the snow, while others slinked off, limping and bloodied, their will to fight shattered.

The last coyote turned tail, its broken gait vanishing into the shadows of the treeline. Cole stood still, chest heaving, his gaze scanning the clearing for any remaining threats. The tension in his frame remained for a moment longer before he straightened, the bodies of their vanquished foes scattered at their feet.

tvar stood firm, his breaths coming in heavy clouds that mingled with the frigid air. his icy gaze tracked the final coyote as it limped into the treeline, a low growl rumbling in his chest until it disappeared completely from view. only then did he allow himself to relax, his tense muscles easing as he turned his head to survey the aftermath.

blood marred the snow around them, dark stains standing stark against the pristine white. a few lifeless forms remained scattered where they’d fallen, evidence of their relentless assault. tvar rolled his shoulders, the motion stiff from exertion, before glancing toward cole. his gaze lingered on cole; he reminded him of the warriors he had once stood beside, long before bearclaw valley.

his own side bore a shallow scratch, the sting of it a distant thought as he stepped forward, surveying the bodies. “they were desperate,” he added after a moment. "probably meant to raid our caches." he huffs and turns away from the grim sight of fallen bodies. words muttered under his breath meant to carry their spirits forth into the sky, to the starmother. perhaps she would receive them.

Cole hummed lowly, a sound that carried both relief and fatigue. His amber gaze swept over Tvar, pausing briefly on the shallow scratch along his side. It wasn’t deep—nothing that would slow the man down for long—but Cole’s brow furrowed regardless.

Survivors got lucky, he murmured, his voice gruff as he straightened, ignoring the sharp ache in his own flank. He shifted his weight, favoring his uninjured side, and glanced down at himself. Blood clung to his coat, both his and theirs, the scent sharp and lingering.

He turned his attention back to Tvar, his gaze steady as he took in the other wolf’s weariness. The weight of the fight was evident in both of them, though they remained standing—a testament to their resilience. Cole nodded toward the lifeless forms of the coyotes, scattered like broken shadows in the snow.

Desperate, he agreed, his tone thoughtful. Didn’t stand a chance, though.

With a grunt, he shook out his coat, sending a light spray of snow and blood into the air. His eyes met Tvar’s again, holding a flicker of respect. "Let’s get patched up before something else gets the wrong idea.” It wasn’t a question, but a quiet nudge to move toward tending their wounds.