Duskfire Glacier unafraid

@Faust

Come the early morning Dione was awake and looking to beat the rising sun as she raced it up to Faust's den. A clear pep in her step, she barked before sticking her head into the hollow to check if he was awake.

She had been looking forward to this morning's hunt all night, and she was sure of one thing; she was going to win. Maybe it was cruel to be so competitive, but a fiery spirit had gotten her this far. If Faust planned to act the same way she would not think any less of him, because fun and games or not, it was still a competition.

But, they could not properly compete until they knew what they were competing for. She was curious to see what he had thought up.

faust stirred before the sun had crested, already accustomed to the sounds of snow shifting, winds curling, and wolves moving beyond the denmouth. but it was her bark—sharp, familiar—that brought a flick of his ear and the slow lift of his head from crossed paws.
he rose without rush, the roll of his shoulders shedding the last of sleep. her face in the hollow made him smirk—already eager, tail likely swinging like a banner.
you’re early, he muttered, stepping into the crisp air where the horizon blushed faintly with dawn.
his eyes narrowed, assessing her readiness, her bite of energy. she burned like a spark in the snow.
winner gets choice of the next hunt’s prize,” he decided plainly. whatever that may be. meat, hide—company.
a beat. then, with one brow raised, a wry edge curled at his lip:
you sure you want to play?::

Are you? She retorted with a grin. I saw a moose not too far off. Are you up for it? A cow, not a bull, so there were no antlers to worry about, but a risky challenge nonetheless. However, if they could take it down the carcass would be able to feed the pack for a good while.

She planned to grab that ear the first chance she got. What Faust had thought up was a pretty good deal too, further motivating her. There was a lot to consider on top of avoiding being trampled - but, that made it all the more thrilling.

mm.
his voice came low, considering, as his eyes lifted toward the trees where the moose had last tread. heavy snow had left deep tracks—sign enough of weight.
a hell of a prize, faust muttered, half to himself, as if the image of the kill had already begun forming behind his glacier-hued stare. and if we’re lucky— a glance, sidelong, toward dione, where a faint smirk played at the edge of his scarred lip, —we take more than meat.
he mimicked antlers with a subtle lift of his brow.
a crown for the victor.
and then, he was already moving. low to the earth, silent through the frost, the hunt begun not with a roar, but a whisper.

While this moose had no antlers for their taking, a crown was an entertaining thought nonetheless.

Part of her wanted to race ahead, but she knew that this could not be all fun and games. There was still a hunt to be done, a moose to be slaughtered. Matching Faust's stride and keeping pace at his shoulder, she kept a trained eye out for the sight of the moose cow. It could not have gone far.

It was soon enough that she could see the long-legged creature through the trees, having stopped to eat from a bush. Eyeing Faust momentarily, she then quickened her pace toward their prey. Moose were pretty slow, but they were mean. It wouldn't hurt to scare it into tiring itself out first.

faust kept low, steady, the frost-brittle grass whispering beneath his paws as he tracked alongside her. his breath curled slow in the morning air, eyes locked on the moose ahead—a lone cow, ribs just beginning to show from the long winter. she would feed many, if brought down.
dione surged first, and faust followed suit, the powerful tension of his limbs unwinding with each stride. they moved like shadow and echo—two halves of the same strike.
flank her! he barked low, sharp, trusting her instinct. his own path veered wide to drive the cow’s path, hoping to angle her toward a patch of uneven snow and thin brush. if she stumbled even slightly, they’d have her.
a snarl rose in his throat—not meant for her, but for the chase, for the moment, for the way his pulse thundered. his eyes flicked once to dione.
ear or crown, you’d better make it count.
the challenge was real, but so was the fire behind it.

At Faust's order she was quick to flank the moose, nipping at it to forcefully push forward. Taking it down was the truly important part, but her eyes were trained on the ears all the same.

Faust's plan was quick to be a success. In a panic the moose redirected, entering the patch of snow and brush. Long legs pulled through, keeping it above with some ease, however while the snow itself may not have caused a stumble it did hide the rocks beneath. Hoof hitting stone, the creature stumbled forward and seemed to tangle it's legs - when they were that long it was hard not to. Dione was quick to pounce, latching to the shoulder of the animal and causing it to release a horrific yell.

She gave a glance to her companion. Competing or not, she wanted to make sure they were still on the same page.

faust was there—swift, silent, relentless.
her glance found him already closing in, breath thick with frost, the thunder of the moose’s scream vibrating against his chest. they’d driven it just where they wanted, and its long limbs betrayed it; downed just enough to falter.
he didn’t strike yet. not fully. he saw the angle she took, the place her fangs had found, and he let her hold it a moment longer, testing her grit. his eyes flicked to the thrashing ears.
not yet, he seemed to say, circling opposite. they’d earned this chase together—he would not rob her of the win without seeing how far she’d press for it.
his breath steamed in the morning air, muscles coiled, waiting. he would follow her lead, for now. this was her strike to claim—or not. the game wasn’t over.

For now, the ears had slipped her mind entirely. The moose was faltering quickly, unable to keep up with the maze of snow, trees, and brush, while fighting back the weight of each wolf at the same time. Back legs kicked out, strikes erractic and aimless. Dione, still clung to the front half of the moose, was safe for now.

She knew moose to be tough opponents; that was the fun of the hunt. This one was no exception, for while it was weakened by the winter months there was still a clear fighting spirit pulsing through. Dione could almost respect it.

The moose being to lower in the snow, growing slow and weak, Dione released her grip and lunged for the ear closest to her reach.

A miss. The moose, legs bracing, continued forward. Dione fell just behind, but it would not be difficult to catch up.

faust surged forward, the snow shifting in thick, heavy clumps beneath his weight. the moose had stumbled but not yet fallen—its legs dragged, trembling, but still defiant. dione had clung well, striking as clean as any seasoned hunter, but when she loosed her grip to lunge, he caught the miss in the corner of his eye.
he faltered then—not fully, not dangerously, but enough that his stride hit uneven snow and his shoulder dipped low with the effort of readjusting. a grunt sounded through his teeth, not from pain, but the annoyance of imperfect footing. it pulled his attention—his eyes cut to dione, quick and assessing.
she had not fallen far. the miss was nothing; she would recover, already surging after the quarry again. still, his gaze lingered for a heartbeat more, a brief flash of something unspoken flickering behind ice-toned eyes.
then he was after it again.
the moose had carved a desperate trail ahead, half-collapsing with each heavy step. faust pressed close to its flank now, aiming to cut it off fully—push it into the thicker snowdrifts ahead, force it down.
get the ear, he growled lowly, teeth bared. not a command, not even a challenge—just a shared thrill. he would hold the body.
the glory was hers.

She caught up in time to hear the growl slip from Faust's tongue. He was telling her to take the win. She wouldn't complain.

The moose, fallen and struggling to return to a stand, was no threat now. She knew for certain that the creature would be going nowhere. Pouncing, she was able to grab hold of the ear this time. With a bloody, vicious rip, and a pure scream from the moose, Dione had the detached ear in her teeth. It was an act of pure cruelty towards the creature, but the challenge was nearly complete. The thrill aspect was done,

now to finish the kill.

his sides heaved.
steam rose from his shoulders in the cold, sweat and snow melted into the thick of his coat. blood spattered the edge of his jaw, though it wasn’t his. not this time.
his eyes tracked her, saw the prize clenched between her teeth—heard the moose’s final cry tear through the forest like thunder.
a breath.
then another.
he watched as she stepped in to end it, and he did not interfere.
he only gave her the hunt. the kill.
a nod—short. approving.
panting still, he turned his head and spat blood into the snow. a pause, then—
yours.

Here they stood once more, bloodied and filled with pure adrenaline. Tail waving behind her, she retrieved the ear and placed it in front of Faust. I suppose I win this time. Maybe he had technically let her, but it was a win nonetheless. There was a huff of laughter from her now, glancing at the moose carcass. It was a stubborn old thing, wasn't it?

The question must have been rhetorical, for only a short moment later her posture shifted into half of a play bow before she pounced onto Faust. Light and playful, she wasn't quite ready to eat yet. She deserved to bask in her glory for at least a bit first.

damn right, he rumbled, voice low and dry with the weight of exertion. but pride gleamed in his eyes—untamed, wolfish—as the bloodied ear landed at his feet. she had earned it, fair and well, and he made no effort to take that from her. instead, he lowered his head to sniff it once, then looked up at her with a flicker of crooked amusement tugging his scarred lip.
he hardly had the chance to respond before her shadow lunged across his own. a grunt left him as she collided, force not enough to fell him but enough to stagger the moment. his paws shifted wide to catch the weight of her, and he let her press him back, the ground firm beneath his spine.
his breath left him in a huff—half a growl, half a laugh. faust did not resist. didn’t have to. the victory was hers today, and he wore it well.
bask while you can, he murmured beneath her, eyes sharp, teeth just barely bared in a half-smirk.

His attitude sparks a laugh from her. You're a strange man, Faust. Giving a lap to his muzzle, she rises back to her paws.

Come get me the next time you want a challenge, hm? I'll have a new prize picked out. Just as promised by him. She would be sure to choose something worthwhile. Taking a fair size of meat from the moose carcass, she trots away to find a place to eat.

ty for the thread <3

he watches her go, that rough-hewn smirk still tugging at the edge of his scarred muzzle. she was bold—brazen even—and he liked that. not many could bait him into play, let alone walk away with the win.
next time, i won’t let you win, he calls after her, voice low and amused, gruff as gravel but warmer than most ever got to hear.
he doesn’t follow right away. just watches her silhouette fade into the trees, the sway of her tail, the confidence in her stride.
a strange man, maybe. but one who kept his word.
he turns back to the carcass with a grunt, already thinking about what kind of prize he’d want next.