Sky Mesa on the wing

The moment she had seen the mesa rising up over the flatlands, Merel knew she wanted to reach the top. It had shimmered over the horizon in the mid-day heat, an ethereal monolith of purple-red against the blue sky. The climb had tested her limbs, and more than once she wondered what compelled her to ascend.

Now on a stony outcrop atop the mesa's eastern edge, she sat with her back to the vast expanse below. The wind was crisp and cold here, soothing her sun-warmed fur. It brought with it the scent that, perhaps, had brought her here: pronghorn. Normally too swift for a lone wolf to catch, the beasts were effectively trapped by the limits of their plateau oasis. There was only so far they could run before they met the mesa's edge. Still, Merel would prefer not to work alone on this hunt.

And perhaps she would not have to. Another wolf was here, and Merel was both curious and hungry. A risky combination, but she had never been known for an overabundance of caution.

"Good afternoon, stranger," Merel said in a mild voice. Her tone was betrayed by a glitter of mischief in her eyes. "Are you feeling brave today?"

He came to the mesa with the intention of catching a meal for Leto's puppies, the other packmates too should any be left. However his nose must be losing it's expertise, for he failed to realize that it was pronghorn who awaited him. Kemal could do a lot of things, but with all his mass he was not extraordinarily fast. Even if he was, it would not be enough to catch the creatures. It seemed to him that they could outrun anything.

His hope was nearly dried up when, as he was turning to leave, a voice called out to him. Turning his head, he spotted them off to his right side. Not one to exchange more than a few words, he simply began to approach the stranger in response.

She watched the stranger approach with curiosity. Her swishing tail and smile were friendly, but that warmth didn’t quite reach her eyes; she had learned to be cautious of men. Still, she was willing to give the large red-brown wolf a chance; he might still be useful. With his great bulk, she calculated that he had no hope of catching up to one of these fleet-footed prey on his own.

Together, however, they might both have a chance. He did not seem to be a man of many words, but that did not matter as long as he was willing to listen.

“Hunt with me,” she said simply. Without waiting for agreement, Merel trotted onwards.

She kept to the perimeter of the herd, mindful of which way the wind tugged at her dark fur. She spotted a doe that had wandered off from the main group, and looked to the man who had joined her.

With her long limbs and light form, she might be just quick enough to chase the pronghorn towards him, if he positioned himself correctly.

And listen he would. Kemal always listened, always followed.

Following behind at a respectable distance, he focused on the hunt. Catching one of these things would be no easy feat, but when he saw the doe and caught the gaze of his partner, he was quick to recognise the intended plan.

Moving away from the dark-coated woman, he looked to postion himself far enough to predict where the pronghorn would try to run, but close enough to be there when it did. He thought that this one must be young, for the rest of the herd knew to stick close together at the sight of predators - but the doe? She was enveloped in her meal it seemed, believing that the herd in it's mass would protect her.

Kemal knew better. Even in numbers, there was no guarantee of safety.

He followed, and more than that, he understood. The plan came together before her eyes.

She waited until he had settled into position. Merel nodded to him—one last signal. Then, she leapt forward. The pronghorn bolted.

Merel ran between the doe and the herd, further isolating it from its perceived safety. It veered away from her. In its panic to get away from the wolf chasing it, it hadn’t yet seen the second wolf lying in wait.

Now! she thought.

A lunge forward, and the pronghorn was taken in his jaws by the neck.

A snarl, a vicious shake, and the creature was good as dead - he could hear the clomp of hooves from it's herd fleeing. He could feel the blood seeping onto his tongue, hot and sweet. Releasing a breath, he placed it upon the ground. He shouldn't enjoy these things things so much.

He looked to the stranger now. It made sense to allow her to take her share.

Merel ran forwards, but the man felled the beast before she reached them. The doe’s last struggling kicks subsided as the she-wolf slowed to a walk.

Her gaze was focused on the other wolf, not the doe. He might try to claim it all for himself. Men so often felt that everything and anything was owed to them. (Sometimes, she wondered if she had become any different.) Yet he did not. He did not speak, but it was clear he was waiting for her to take her share. Merel inclined her head, and in her hazel eyes there was a newfound respect and curiosity.

Before he changed his mind, she dug into the doe’s round white belly. She claimed her prize: the doe’s liver. She pulled it out and lay down to eat a few paces away.

“You hunt well,” Merel said after a few moments. She licked at her blood-stained snout. “What’s your name? I’m Merel.”

She thought she could smell traces of other wolves on his pelt, though he could just as well be a loner.

He watched her with careful eyes, ansuring she would not try to run off with the whole thing. My pack has young. There is no choice but to hunt well. The babies were getting older, and their appetites were growing with them.

I am Kemal. He responded to her question, leaning down to take a small amount of meat from the leg for himself.

He had to wonder if this would be enough.. probably, right? Three puppies couldn't manage to eat this whole carcass. ..Well met, Merel.

My pack has young.

She understood the weight of his gaze upon her, now. Merel paused in her eating to look at him. She responded in kind: “Well met, Kemal.”

Children. His own, or another’s? It seemed he had ventured far for their sake. She eyed the fallen carcass; it would feed them and their parents. But pups grew quickly; she remembered how her sisters had transformed—from sightless, whining lumps to laughing and rolling in the meadow with her, tugging at her tail and ears.

Strangely, that memory almost hurt more than the terror that followed. She could remember little of her flight, in truth; flame, darkness, howls. And smoke. So much smoke. After that—emptiness.

After that…

“Make sure you save some for yourself,” Merel snorted, eyeing the small chunk he took. “You’ll need to eat to keep up with them. They start out quiet, but that changes fast.”

She stood up as she finished the last of her chosen portion. Restlessness threatened to overwhelm her; she could not reflect. She could not pause. Even if she knew, deep down, she would never find who she searched for.

“I used to hunt for my sisters,” Merel offered by way of explanation. She smiled, and this time, it was genuine. “How far is your pack? I can help you carry back something for their mother, too.”

The offer surprised her. But it was his choice to take it or not; if not, she would melt away into the lowlands once more.

Swallowing up his portion with little effort, he shook his head with the surprise of a smile. I hunt for myself after nightfall. He reassured. But yes, they are growing fast. They will be strong young men. Or at least one of them would - Apollo ate enough that Kemal could tell he would size up to his mother.

He listened to her explanation, the offer that followed, and shook his head once more. You are kind, but Verapaz is not good to strangers. The segundo would not be happy.  He had heard enough of his brother's stories that he knew better than to take risks - he would not gain the same strange enjoyment from it that Leandros did.

Licking his lips clean, he glanced westward towards where the pass stood. But take care, hm? We will hunt again someday. In large jaws he took the pronghorn by it's neck, glancing to her once more before picking it up and preparing to take his leave.

Finally, she understood his silence. For a moment, she fought with herself. She wanted to tell him that he did not need to obey this segundo; but she knew, too, that he must have ties that bound him. Children, siblings, parents--whatever it was, it didn't matter. If he still had something to lose, then he could not leave.

Merel had nothing left to lose besides her life, and she had already made the choice to keep living it. Instead of arguing, she gave him a sad smile.

Someday, Merel agreed. Take care, Kemal.

She slipped away, and began the long trek down the mesa's treacherous cliffs.