Ravensblood Forest Don't let her love you

For @Gristle :)

Through the dark woods she moved like a coming storm— slow, and deliberate, and twice as indifferent. The black tar pits that were her eyes seethed from a would-be innocent face, and if not for the branding scars and perpetually terrible grimace, she might've fooled someone who didn't know a viper when they saw one. Even the night in all its shadowy legions could not swallow her whole, and Furiosa, who knew it was not her beauty that would vanquish her foes, walked with a rigid pride that bespoke she was aware of her own resilience.

She spied a star here and there as she looked, but the clouds and the canopy voided most of the light that would exist there, and she was left only in the company of crickets and rumbling belly as she searched for a spot to occupy the night through.

He found himself within the Wilds once again, seemingly unable to distance himself from the place no matter how far he roamed. Perhaps it was because he felt he lacked some sort of purpose, and this place was the only one he really had any connection to. He knew he could always travel back to Red Canyon, but what was there for him but bones and dust? He missed Wednesday. Not that he really missed her company, he just had become so used to following her commands and leaving decisions to her (even if those decisions were terrible and had led to her death).

So the man wandered, leading a simple existence.

Upon discovering he was vaguely familiar with the forest he found himself in, Gristle gave a small huff of fascination before pressing onwards. Night had fallen and, with it, the need to rest. Though, his stomach also hungered and the beast was torn between sleep and food (which wasn't an uncommon thing). Ears swivelling forwards, he tried to pick up on the faint footfalls of any rodents who dared to emerge at this hour, dark eyes flashing as he searched hungrily. The sight of a pale-furred figure ahead caught his attention momentarily but he was quick to realise she wasn't exactly a viable food option. The man growled under his breath softly at the thought of competition, moving to redirect his path away from hers.

Movement, a shuffle heavy enough to be a threat, drew the attention of the stark defiler, and she carefully watched another wolf change trajectory to avoid her. Though Furiosa easily rationalized that he was hunting for his own food or shelter, which was reason enough to avoid a set of teeth not adorned by food, she made for him because... well, maybe she was offended. She certainly acted like it, pulling herself up rigidly and stalking after him.

Truthfully, his concession to her presence in the area gave her the idea that she could control him— elicit him to help her achieve a larger meal. She'd test him first; to see just how attest he was to her carousing. Prancing slightly as she neared, her teeth sought impolitely to goose him. Because the best way to get a man's attention was to pinch his butt.

*awkwardly slides this in here*

Arturo was not particularly sure when he'd begun to think of Ravensblood Forest as his but as he made his trips from the Bay to the Forest more frequently he knew in the marrow of the bones that he would own this forest. It was not the Isle, and further North than the gangster had originally intended to settle but it was much closer to Blackrock Depths than Two Rivers Isle which was good for business. It would make it easier to maintain the alliance that Skellige and him had struck so many months ago, an alliance that Arturo had every intention of keeping with the sea titan. Finally he could make good on his side of it, having taken shelter with the Depth wolves for a few months. It had been a set back at first and when Riptide had happened a necessary precaution. Yet, the sea witch had became a memory and the gangster felt that now was the time to raise his Teaghlaigh, to forge his Family and fulfill his intent of traveling to these Wilds. If his children still resided in the Wilds Arturo did not know, had not sought them. They were their own wolves now, and though they would always be apart of the Family they were not forced to remain. That was how it had always been and how Arturo remained for it to be even in this new reincarnation.

He prowled through the tall sequoias, careful to avoid brushing too close to their trunks that oozed red sap in case it was fresh. It would take some time to fully rid his coat of the scent of sea brine but he wasn't so sure he wanted to begin that process by getting sap stuck to his fur. No, Arturo Fearghal was, perhaps in that matter, a vain beast. The tall gangster picked up lone scents, his pace slowing as he gave a pause. A lone female and a lone male. The sense of territoriality was almost overwhelming as it rushed over him, but Arturo had a head for business and he understood that this might be a recruitment opportunity. Him and his army of one were not enough. He would need to build his Family, which meant active recruitment.

Course altered, Arturo headed in their direction shrugging through the underbrush as he approached the two — comically arriving just as the female (whom looked like she'd seen better days, perhaps) going for the male's bum with her teeth exposed. He was comfortable midst the tall, dark sequoias — a king without his kingdom — and though the melanistic coywolf was cautious enough to maintain his distance he was not threatened by their presence. Nor, since he saw this as an opportunity, was he bothered by their presence in his forest. He was amused, but given that he was without context he shouldn't perhaps have been, yet his amusement toyed at the corners of his lips all the same.

“Is that how you customarily greet others?” The gangster called out to the female, maintaining his distance from the two loners.

He had sought to avoid her, but it seemed the female had other ideas. He watched disinterestedly from the corner of his eye as she lightly danced forward then out of sight behind him, and the man made to quicken his pace to continue his hunt. That was until there was an unexpected nip on his backside. Gristle quickly let out an embarrassing yelp of surprise, dropping his hindquarters low in an instant and skittering around to face the stranger, confusion quickly turning to anger.

His jaws clicked once but, upon seeing the female, he reigned himself in and took a step back uncertainly. Well, she was not a looker, that was for sure. Neither was Gristle himself, really, but something about her caused him to think twice about attacking, and the male snorted with indecision, clearly put off.

He turned as a voice rang out, eyes settling on the slim form of another. It was a good thing for him that Gristle hadn't the murderous hate for coyotes that Wednesday had possessed, yet the stranger's long legs and slim profile that begged of coyote heritage caused his lip to raise slightly. He made no comment, instead disregarding the male and turning back to the first offender, growling lowly, wordlessly demanding an explanation.

Furiosa's lips coiled into a devilishly delighted grimace, her slate face suddenly alight as her target whirled in confrontation. He seemed confused at first, though no more than he appeared angry, and his uncertainty— however fleeting— was all she needed to legitimize her claim on him. He was a hulking thing, and yet she did not balk or flinch in his face. In fact, it looked like she might've tried to dominate him had not a voice called out in that moment, breaking her intense black gaze and turning it towards the face of another stranger.

She seemed surprised at first, and then she laughed; a harking and powerful sound that could be grating to the easily frightened. "I am nothing, if not straight-forward," she called to the slimmer brute, unable to peer at him too deeply, given her present proximity to a much larger threat. She rounded on him again, boring into his nearly-as-dark gaze with steadied intent. "You want to hunt, hunt with me. You want your backside watched, I'll watch it. You need something to do— let's do it together." She didn't need or want to explain her reasoning, though it was quite obvious she thought he looked useful. Appearances could be deceiving, but that was what she was here to find out.

She would tussle with him, if she needed to prove she was worthy of collaboration, though the expenditure of precious energy wasn't ideal for anyone here.

Without loosening the intensity of her prepared stance, the feral wraith called to the umber talker: "that goes for you too. We could bring down something real nice, the three of us." Trying to talk her way out of a fight and into something fortuitous, as was her generally brash technique.

Arturo's head canted ever so slightly to the side, unfazed by the slight lift of the male's lips as the other's gaze took him in. It was a look that Arturo knew well and had been subjected to for his life. Some wolves did not care and others did. As if he had any control over whose seed his mother had allowed to root in her womb. He was no longer the small child so easily bothered by what others thought of his mixed parentage. His species as "coywolf" did not define him. Did not make him. Perhaps it had molded him, encouraged him to become what he was today: Caennasach. The Sovereign. It was clear that he would need to work on claiming it, first at it's open borders and then at the borders protected by the sentinel spires. Only, however, after he dealt with this ...whatever exactly it was he had stumbled in upon. “I admire straight-forwardness,” The gangster responded to the woman's words that called out in the distance between them.

She made a proposition at first Arturo thought to the male she had bitten the rump of, only to extend it to the gangster who regarded her with an subtle albeit amused glint to his fiery eyes. “I will not turn down an offer of a coordinated hunt,” The Ceannasach responded, fixating his gaze upon her for a few moments before it flickered to the male and rested with the both of them in his view. “But how about applying those propositions to something bigger?” It sounded like she had a head for business and immediately Arturo was intrigued. He addressed the both of them as he spoke, awaiting for further inquiry or disinterest from either party. He would not freely offer information if neither was willing, after all. He had some semblance of secrecy to maintain.

He found it hard to tear his own gaze away from the black pools that were the female's, her features entrancing and harrowing at the same time. He wasn't one to be easily unnerved — having witnessed the crimes Wednesday had committed and still remain by her side — yet the otherworldliness of the stranger made the brute slightly uncomfortable. Her proposition was a curious one, however, and Gristle found himself interested. He would never decline the opportunity of a meal, even if it meant hunting with two complete strangers.

As she addressed the other male, Gristle turned back to him, ears pricking as he bounced back an offer of his own. He hadn't the intelligence to piece together what the half-breed was talking about and was still intent on setting a hunt into motion. "Food," he grunted simply, looking back to the pale female. If he had the chance to fill his stomach, he would take it.

The three of them seemed to be on the same page, and Furiosa was feeling pretty full of herself imagining that she had elicited this entire situation. Her tail lashed, however, as the coywolf mentioned a concept bigger than the proposed hunt. She was silent for an intense moment, thinking behind expressionless eyes. "A pack," she reasoned was his exact meaning, the fiendish mirth on her face vanishing briefly as a seriousness suddenly commandeered it. Her forwardness blazed. "If we can hunt and eat as a unit, I would gladly apply my proposition to... something bigger."

We should each do a hunt roll... maybe d10? And if two of us get even, we'll call it a success?

The male answered simply with “food” and when Arturo turned his gaze from Gristle it came to settle upon the woman with subdued interest next. She reasoned out his true meaning and spoke it aloud. “That's right,” Arturo spoke with a sage nod of his head, his ears cupping forth when she spoke her own proposition. That was a tall order — there was no guarantee that the three of them would be able to take down whatever she had her sights on but as a business man he wasn't one to turn down propositions that might give way to a win. It was a coin toss. It could be a win or a loss but Arturo was not unwilling to take the risks of chance. Sometimes, you couldn't fix everything to give you the advantage. Sometimes trust had to be placed in the inevitable unknown. “Very well.” The gangster murmured, stepping towards the two, giving a subtle gesture towards the female that she should take lead of this hunt. It was her suggestion, after all.

i rolled an odd :-(

Rolled an 8! It's all on you, Van ;D

The female guessed the other man's intent with ease, and a small spark of understanding lit up behind Gristle's dark eyes. He turned and studied the half-breed with an air of mild contempt, wondering if he would be the one taking the position of alpha of this proposed pack. His memory flit briefly to the man who had accepted him into his own pack — although he had called it a crew — by the beach. He hadn't cut much of an intimidating figure, though was just as capable and ruthless as any Gristle had met. Perhaps this man would be the same?

The brute grunted. The hunt would tell. He glanced back at the paler stranger who had accepted his proposition, but only if the hunt succeeded. Though she had been the one who had offered the challenge, woe be to the half-breed should it fail. Gristle's stomach grumbled as he eyed him from his peripheral vision hungrily before he gave a nod to the female, indicating he was ready and would let her lead as well.

UGH OK no pressure no pressure no pressu.... rolled a goddamn 9 >:| since it's a fail, hope you two don't mind blowing through it? if not, lmk, and i'll make some changes!

With Furiosa at the head, the three wolves descended deeper into the blood-sap trees, shadows enveloping the carnivorous creatures as they prowled for a victim. It was the coywolf who eventually detected signs of a herd, and the pale wretch's plan that set them all apart on the playing field, surrounding the unsuspecting ungulates on three of four sides. It was to be the duty of the imperial-minded man and herself, to drive the deer into the waiting jaws of their burlier companion, but not all things worked seamlessly between the strangers, and cues were missed that otherwise would've been effective had any of them spent more time with the other.

She and the earthy coywolf gave chase, snapping on the heels on an aged doe as the herd swirled like a school of fish to avoid their snarling pursuants. They had been chased too far to the left, however, causing the potentially hungriest of the three to miss his target by mere inches when exploding from his hiding place. It was enough for the wolves to come out on the losing team of the hunt, and though most hunts ended in this manner, their closeness to victory made Furiosa quite angry.

She chased the herd the longest, though her fury quickly gave way to exhaustion, and she returned, panting and irritated, to where she had noticed the males slack their pace. Despite the fact that she was inclined to immediately disperse without saying anything further to either of them, the marred harpy found herself not entirely through with the males. In fact, with a bit of rest and coordination, she imagined that they could truly do some damage.

*shakes fist at the dice* also, that is perfectly fine with me! <3

Their hunt had failed. Victory had been in their fucking grasp and it just slipped away like smoke through clenched fingers. It was hard to tell where they had been outwitted by their hapless prey and the gangster did not feel that it was the fault of any of them. For three complete strangers whom had never coordinated nor hunted with each other they had almost been crowned victors of the hunt; and as far as the gangster was concerned that was something. Although disappointment was a bitter pill for Arturo to swallow the Fearghal monarch reluctantly downed it with some struggle as his pace slowed and his sides heaved with heavy pants as he worked to cool himself down from the heat of the chase and catch his breath. Hunts were not predictable and this was an unfortunate ending to many of them. Even a coordinated pack well accustomed to hunting with one another lost.

He spared a glimpse at the lumbering male even as the woman kept going and surprise flitted across the gangster's expression for a moment as she returned to them. He had expected her, given her ultimatum before their unsuccessful hunt, to just keep going. Failures were just as important as the victories, the gangster had always believed. Without failing you could never learn from your mistakes, you would not feel the drive to push yourself to achieve that victory. “For strangers who had never hunted together before that could have gone a lot worse.” Arturo observed simply, his gaze resting upon the lone pair. In fact, he thought they hadn't done half bad all things considered. No one had suffered injuries — except perhaps to their pride. They had gotten close to victory but at the last minute had slipped up. The shades of grey was what Arturo was interested in and capitalized upon as opposed to bleakly staring at the stark black and white of the situation.

SORRY

His teeth still rang from the snap of his eager jaws closing around nothing but thin air as he had missed his target. It seemed it was a lucky day for the deer and her herd as they narrowly escaped losing one of their members and scampered off into the distance. The trio had followed them, but Gristle was the first to lag behind, his large form tiring quickly from sprinting. When the other male began to slow, he caught up to him and flopped to his side, watching as the female continued on as if she could make up for their failure herself. A fool's quest, but he admired her tenacity.

When she returned, the mood was considerably more sour. He looked to her, giving a rumble of almost-sympathy before turning back to the coywolf. With a lip raised, he scoffed at the man's statement. In his mind, he had been the one who had messed up. Still lying on his side — he was still catching his breath from the chase — the brute snarled at the other. "Your fault," he snapped under his breath, though still loud enough for him to hear.

All three wolves were breathing quite heavy after the fruitless expenditure, but the largest of their small troupe had been thoroughly spent; he was lying on his side when Furiosa spotted them. Her irritation ebbed without her meaning it to, and she found herself suddenly fond of the burly sack, perhaps because his was a physicality she preferred, but the more likely reason was that she found him dull and imagined that she could control him. The other male, with his dark mask and burning eyes, suggested that they had made a good team despite the failure. She had yet to decide on him, a mixed breed for all intents and purposes, but she didn't need an opinion of him to know that he was right. A hunt that close to success, with a party comprised of utter strangers, was a success in its own right.

The first male did not agree, and Furiosa found herself laughing at his scathing remark. She padded to his side in a lazy sort of way, dipping her head to give a mild nip to a tuft a hair behind his exposed ear. "Easy, boy," she smirked, slithering around his prone body like water around a stone, and coming to stand before the man with his broader mind and imperial thoughts. "So... about those propositions..." she pressed, edging their failure from the conversation.

Fade here? I think it would be safe to assume they introduce themselves, and Arturo explains a little about Teaghlaigh before they split.

sounds good to me! :-)

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The look that Arturo gave the burly male when he not-so-subtly pinned their failure upon him could only have been described as deadpan, unimpressed. He didn't appreciate the blame being placed at his paws lest it was actually his fault; but then Arturo was man enough to admit if he was a fault for something rather than pin it on someone else. Disregarding and ignoring the other man, his gaze flickered to Furiosa when she came back to them, rolled his eyes at her display towards the burly man before his gaze was drawn back to her upon her approach. At her inquisition he obliged, informing them vaguely of Teaghlaigh — what he was willing to tell being unable to gauge true interest level — before the three parted ways, with Arturo's path taking him deeper into the heart of his soon-to-be home.

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