Phoenix Maplewood Hungry like a wolf

AW...maybe @Thuringwethil?

Fuck this place, Denali thought sourly as he felt his belly rumble for about the hundreth time that day. The big wolf-dog padded stubbornly through the woods, searching for prey. If he managed to catch something, it would be his first meal in days. His growing body was not accustomed to the lack of food.

A small movement near a particularly large tree trunk caught his eye, and his ears pricked, intrigued. He saw the wriggling nose of a vole come into sight. The brown creature was thin, barely a snack, but it would do for now. Denali crouched as low as his big body would allow and snuck towards the potential meal, resisting the urge to lick his lips.

He rushed and pounced, half-expecting the vole to be a hunger hallucination and for his paws to hit empty ground, but to his satisfaction, he heard a frightened squeak, immediately stifled by the crushing weight of the wolf-dog's bulk against its body. Without hesitation, Denali opened his jaws and savagely ripped the animal apart, gulping down whatever meat it had to offer, crushing the smaller bones beneath his teeth as if they were nothing.

Denali lifted his head triumphantly after he had finished and stared into the locust-decimated woods, searching for more tasty creatures. He must look a sight, what with blood smeared over his muzzle and a slightly crazy gleam in his eyes, but at this point, he really did not care.

 

Success roll here

hello :3 i wrote this from my phone at work, ha, and also had a failed hunt roll.

If only to bide the time, Thuringwethil leaves her home and moves across the river and down the stream that eventually breaks off and leads her to the Maplewood. No longer does she expect the Phoenix wolves to return, or for problems to arise (she'd been able to deter the dark male from laying such a claim) and the dispute last time she'd been here had been unfavorable. The thought alone is enough to twist her already unsettled stomach, saliva building up in the back of her mouth a mix of hunger and nausea.

She stops by the stream long enough to stare in it, then giving a half-hearted attempt at fishing, but coming up empty handed and soaking wet. She sputters a few times and shakes out her fur, her cheekbones suddenly prominent with wet fur sticking to her and her eyes sunken into her head. Her frame has thinned out over the weeks, atrophy in places, and her strength has been compromised but the young leader doesn't hold herself any less. Heda won't allow it.

Thuringwethil has gotten used to the forest looking desolate but the promise of regrowth peaks out from the corners of her vision. Grass is starting to return and even the trees are offering a little life but it's a far cry from its former glory and a long time before it could support more life. The herbs for the spring and summer season are wasted, not that she knows much, and the birth of their wildlife is stunted for who knows how long. The promise, however, is what remains as she slips through a territory that becomes more and more familiar each visit.

With a flick of her ears, something catches her attention, but the ruckus is long over and she only sees another standing off in the distance, tall and proud. From where she stands, she can't see the blood across his face but the scent wafts in her direction and there's a rumble she can't deny. Curiosity calling her, she takes a few more steps before she reconsiders and, instead of approaching, simply watching. With little to hide the large shadow, she remains an open target, but her silence remains while her presence becomes apparent.

oh hi there! not bad for a phone post!!

He licked the blood from his lips, the taste of it warm and sharp on his tongue. It took him back to a memory of the mountains, of the early stages of his journey, when everything had been at least semi-okay. His sisters and he had fell an aging mule deer, its eyes glassy with fatigue, and they had feasted upon their first wild kill hungrily. The taste of it was miles beyond the filth their human had given them at the ranch. Denali couldn't resist salivating at the thought.

That was then, this was now. The mule deer were gone, either far away or dead from lack of food. All they had left were these small creatures who feasted on the dead shells of locusts, and even they were skinnier than he would have liked. Denali looked down at the larger bones of the vole scornfully and pushed them away with one paw in irritation, stalking on, nostrils flared as he searched for more prey.

There was another vole nearby--he smelled it--maybe a cousin or sibling of the one he had just killed. He was surprised to find it so close; the scent of blood and death still hung in the forest air. Nevertheless, he walked quietly, his stomach rumbling as this second vole's scent grew stronger and stronger as he traveled through the woods. He was surprised when he came face to face with the creature, hiding beneath some fallen branches. . .how had he missed it? It squeaked, eyes wide, and darted away before he even had a chance to process it.

Damn it, Denali, he chided himself, but his self-deprecation quickly faded into wariness as he noticed another wolf nearby. It was a female, big and black, her grey eyes boring into him. He padded closer to her, then, until he was several yards away, and nodded his head low in a silent greeting. She carried herself like a leader, and he would treat her with the respect that deserved.

The male doesn't register her presence right away and she doesn't make move into the obvious, but nor does she hide away. She'd developed a fondness for the Maplewood, something possessive. She never laid a claim aside from marking the borders as a warning to the Phoenix wolves that might return or anyone else attempting a claim. With Larksong to the north west of them, someone to the south would be less than desirable. Even if they had been there once before, she knows she won't allow another to take hold. After deterring a potential settler, Zephyr knew now to go elsewhere.

By the time she's noticed, her tail tightens the arch and she lifts her set jaw another fraction. She stiffens as he approaches, flashing back to the last time she'd been here—a prize unwon between two males—and a sour taste bites the back of her throat.

"Why are you here?"

Denali resisted the urge to scoff at her query. As far as he knew, no pack claimed these woods--why the ferocity from this unknown female? Instead, he kept his face neutral, still trying to keep his head and tail lower than hers. It was easier with this woman than with smaller wolves; she was big and rangy, with long legs and a muzzle held high in austerity.

"I'm here for the same reason any wolf surely comes to the woods in these times--to hunt," he answered, mouth quirking in the barest of half-smiles. "As far as I know, I'm not intruding on any pack's land."

Come to think of it--and he had to think back a little ways, trying to remember particular odors--this wolf had the scent of a pack whose borders he had skirted while traveling from the north. He knew she was not one of the wolves that resided in the willow forest, whose territory was so close to Seadog's, nor one of the Grotto wolves, neither. This must be a member of the unknown pack he encountered while traveling with Zephyr for an audience with Sen.

"Am I wrong in guessing you live near that volcano?" Denali asked. "I passed by some border markings on my journey south. You have the scent of the pack there." He hoped the question wasn't too forward, as this dark female looked as if she would gladly tear him to pieces at a moment's notice.

She parts her lips in a deep breath, almost as if she might object, that yes, this land does belong to me but she leaves the words on the tip of her tongue. Letting anyone else settle here will only put harm on her own but a disrespect of the Phoenix wolves that fled in her wake. What remains is reminder, a warning, and it will be nothing but. Apparent the other seems clueless of where he stands, she doesn't push it, and instead eases back a few notches as he moves on speak of her own where her sulfuric scent announces her.

The fact he'd gotten close enough to her borders undetected sends an angry ripple down her spine. She'd lost a wolf or two in her hierarchy but she hadn't expected their patrols to weaken as evident as the male presents. It would change, upon her return, that they would increase. In the meantime, a scrutinizing glare is all she manages.

"You are not wrong," she says, and while curiosity grips her, she does not speak her questions. It is not her job to care for lone wolves or those of other packs that hold her harm at interest. With enough stress from Larksong Grotto, sure Reek would enjoy her death, the minuscule lives of those outside her borders mean little. "You were lucky not to cross paths with my warriors," she adds with a playful quirk of her brow.

Now he let out an easy chuckle, a soft sound in the dim light of the forest. "No shortage of ferocity in the wolves here in Teekon," he quipped, blue eyes flashing with good humor. "Nevertheless, I'll go wary of your fighting force next time I enter this forest."

He hesitated, then. To put this query to the dark female seemed a bit of a reach, yet he knew he wanted the answer. "Quick question. When you look at me, what do you see?" Denali kept his sickled tail still, curled against his hindquarters, waiting for her response.

Sen had completely looked past his strength and potential and saw only the dog blood in him. He would forever resent her for her prejudice. If this woman saw him differently, however. . . He shook that thought out of his mind. He would wait for her answer, and then decide on his next move.

He may not take her warning seriously but should he spend too much time traipsing her borders, he'd come to understand her. She dismisses the reply, a fleeting glance in the distance she'd been traveling. Weary of the conversation already, she feels the pull to check the rest of the territory for answers she isn't sure she's looking for. When she returns her attention, perturbed by his next question and the root cause, she finds herself at a loss.

Nothing seems particular out of the ordinary. He has all his limbs, both ears and eyes, and a tail. A closer inspection would be the one final check but she doesn't make the effort, but her gaze does quickly gloss over him. When she discovers there is no obvious answer to his question other than the obvious, she retorts: "what do you want me to see?"

A satisfactory answer, though in the form of a question. No derisive remark on his obvious husky heritage. He smiled. "Me." Denali bowed his head in gratitude. "You must think I'm a raving lunatic right now. Thanks, though. That was the answer I was looking for."

The dark female was beginning to look bored with their conversation, and he gave a deep inhalation, searching for the scent of more prey. "Now I know I must be too close to your home for comfort," he told her. "I saw the volcano as I entered the woods, though I thought it was far enough away that there would be no concern.

"I've been through hell and high water these past few months," he continued, looking at her again. "Trust me when I say that I mean no trouble nor harm to your pack. Don't really feel like risking my own hide."

It was time to head back to the ravine, maybe stop along the way to capture prey for Sen's pups. He wondered briefly whether this wolf had children of her own, though he detected no baby-smell on her. With a nod in parting, he said, "I must head home. Perhaps we'll meet again."

As he was padding away, he realized he had not asked for her name, nor had he given his. Just as well. They would remain strangers. . .for now. He did not look back.

fading here, let's thread these two again sometime soon <3