Barrow Fields these are the last blues we're ever gonna have.

It wasn't often that Artaax left the boundaries of Drageda's territory. In fact, he had resolved the last time they'd left the Cliffs for Redhawk Caldera that he would never leave again once they returned home once more. But, the boy was a hunter, and a stubborn, determined one at that. So when the piercing ring of an eagle's cry sounded in the distance and a fancy to find and kill it took him, the young wolf trotted off away from home without a second thought.

He'd spent most of the morning wandering, sniffing at the ground, standing tall with perked ears listening and eyes roving the landscape. Around midday, he paused his eagle-search to nab a nice, fat vole for himself, which satisfied his hunger but not his desire for victory against his chosen foe. So, he continued on for another hour or so before finally, he came to it.

Though not just it - them.

His ears perked as the sound of some sort of scuffle caught his attention. Artaax bowed down low in the snow, nearly disappearing into it with his white coat. He was still for a few minutes, just listening, before stalking forward. He crept up and over the top of one of the field's taller mounds then froze once again as he spotted them - two golden eagles posed over the shredded, half-eaten carcass of a hare, staring daggers at each other. His eyes widened as they flew at each other suddenly, viciously raking at each other, talons first and screeching.

Now was his moment, and yet the boy stood still in the snow, his curiosity piqued. After a minute, Artaax settled to his belly, simply watching the show.

“Ugh,” she groans, stepping through the snow. In some places of the beach, it doesn’t stick, but she’s traveled too far now inland to avoid it. The sky ahead doesn’t hold a lot of promise to remain clear and she doesn’t know where she’s going any more than she always does. All she wants to do is sit somewhere and complain to someone about how cold it is. Her nose wrinkles back a little and her lips get caught on her two lower canines, keeping them exposed once she’s reset her jaw to make her under-bite a little more obvious.
 
The sound of screech catches her attention and she turns her head, moving through until she sees two large birds going at each other. Immediately, her yellow eyes turn to what they’re fighting over, completely oblivious to the pale wolf dunked down in the snow ahead. For a long moment, she stares at the kill on the ground and the second they step a few feet over in their scuffle, she takes off after it. In an attempt to get close enough to snatch it off the ground, they see the new culprit and immediately go after her. Nox doesn’t get close to the half-eaten hare when claws and beaks and squawks all come at her at once before she has a chance to take off in the other wolf’s direction.

Artaax's ears perked as he saw the other wolf, approaching the warring birds opposite from where he was perched. His eyes narrowed possessively as she crept towards the battle, but not because he wanted their kill, but because he wanted them. Or one of them, at the very least. In an instant, he had pressed himself back up onto all fours, his eyes wide and watchful as the female darted in to snatch the kill. Almost immediately she was swarmed by the eagles, and much to his pleasure, she turned to run, bringing them right to him.

The hunter's muscles tensed as she came nearer, quickly mapping a plan out in his head for how to best nab one of the birds. In the end, Artaax had no idea what would work and what wouldn't, and so he simply sprang forward when he could not longer hold himself back. His sights were on the smaller of the two eagles as he sprinted forward with all the focused intensity of a hunter, which is exactly what he was in that moment - and probably a bit to his detriment as he was too busy to consider how exactly that might look to the stranger he was subsequently as running straight towards.

As try as she might, her feet do not carry her fast enough. Never really built for speed, her short legs carry her until two of them leave the ground. One of the birds use his claws to grip her by the shoulders and with all its might, lift her a little into the air. It mostly disorients her, the pain shooting into her back, but she weighs too much to do other than slip out of the grasp. The claws dig into skin as she sinks into the ground, surging forward to get away, but the sight of another wolf running straight for her catches her off guard.
 
Nox stumbles a little but she keeps going, uncertain where to really go as the other has the intent to zero in on her. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?” she screeches then when claws grip her again, this time digging into her hips, she takes a face full of snow and tumbles unceremoniously to the ground.

slight pp cause I’m allowed

Not even Artaax, as intensely focused and determined a hunter as he was, was capable of ignoring the screech that came from the white wolf’s lips as he railroaded towards her. That was a terrible sentence. His gaze flickered to her instantly and his eyes widened as though surprised to even see her there. The young wolf stretched his arms out to stop himself, skidding and sending a spray of snow out in his wake.

Unfortunately, he did not stop soon enough. In truth, he would’ve been better off to keep running in pursuit of his prey, for then his collision with the porcelain furred female would likely not have happened, and he would’ve been feasting on eagle to boot. But, he hesitated, and deviated, and was shortly sent tumbling into the snow in a tangle of white limbs while his prey spun away screeching from the wreckage.

Her screech isn’t enough to get the wolf to change paths or try to stop sooner rather than later but it does work to scare away the birds and prevented any further damage from their claws. It is only a short lived victory as they collide, tumbling into one another. Her head hits something along the way that causes her teeth to chomp together, painfully biting her tongue a tad too hard. The metallic taste of blood smears around the white of her muzzle and she lands in the snow with a dramatic oof.
 
Dizzy, uncoordinated, and angry, Nox attempts to get on all four feet that causes her to stumble back and fall again but she’s separated herself from the idiot to get in her way. She grumbles quietly, half closing her eyes as the urge to sleep begins to take over, but she fights it off with an uncoordinated shake of her fur.

Artaax was disoriented as he tried to untangle himself from the female. He too stumbled as he righted himself, falling forward and nearly dropping back down into the snow. After a few seconds, he finally got back onto all fours and gave his coat a good shake, licking his lips as he looked eagerly around. He could hear the female's annoyance in her grumbling, but he didn't really care very much. It was her own stupid fault, in his opinion. Fortunately, he didn't consider his reasoning all the way through as he would otherwise have realized he had no basis for for blaming her. He was distracted instead by relocating the eagles as he had no intention of giving up the hunt just because he crashed into some random girl.

One of the birds flew high overhead, sweeping across the sky like a vulture. The other had resettled on the kill, though the fluff of its feathers told him it hadn't dropped its guard yet. Frustrated, he glared at the female, growling low at her as a warning to be quiet.

Once snow and dirt and blood are flung from her, she feels much more stable on all four legs. They feel a little wobble but she’s able to fight against the urge to shy away and lick her wounds. The embarrassment hasn’t quite set in yet. But as she looks him, not even addressing her, she gawks in disbelief and tries to look ahead to figure out what he’s trying to find.

And then he growls at her? Her brows knit together and she steps forward, growling back. “What’s your fuckin’ problem?” she snaps at him, teeth bared as she dares to take a step closer.

She did not get the hint. Artaax bristled at her words - well, not her words. Mostly at her not-at-all lowered voice. Not that it seemed there was much hope for the eagle to forget that they were there, but would it kill her to just try?

The boy was not much of a talker, but it seemed unavoidable in this situation. It just made him dislike her even more that he had to spell things out for her, when it was so obvious what he was after (Sidenote: it was not even a little bit obvious what he was after).

"I'm trying to hunt here. Would you lower your voice?" he sniped softly after her.

He was trying to hunt? Hunt what? Her expression doesn’t ease and she clicks her teeth at him. “What? Those birds? They nearly lifted meoff the ground, ya don’t stand a chance,” she tells him, still heaving from the run. Each exasperated breath stings the claw marks dug deep into her skin, the blood painting her back and sides. She then swings her head to look the way she’d come from, one bird settled back on the kill and picking at it without much motivation. There’s the occasional sound of flapping that goes unnoticed by Nox but she huffs and turns away from him.

Artaax's eyes widened as she expressed her lack of faith in his ability, deeply affronted. Who did she think he was? He lifted his chin a little higher and stood taller, in spite of the fact that he was trying to remain inconspicuous to his prey. That whole thing could wait for a minute while he straightened a thing or two out with this rude girl.

"I stand a far better chance than you," he hissed back at her, "Because I'm not going to just barrel in there like an idiot." What exactly had she expected, approaching the way she had? Was this her first hunt? Had she no tact or grace? With a snobbish look up and down her frame, he decided clearly not.

She freezes up when he speaks back to her, underhandedly calling her names. Nox growls and spins around, facing him. Who did he think he is? That he’s someone better than she is? Oh, ho, ho.  She wanted to rip the look right off his face, leave him unrecognizable to those he loves. “Prove it, then, if yer not such an idiot,” she slurs with narrow eyes. She doesn’t get any closer but she does watch his movements, only so often glancing off to see the second bird dive down and land several yards off to the right.

She challenged him to prove it, to which Artaax responded by shooting her a haughty roll of his eyes. Well, if that's what she wanted, then that's what she would get. He turned away from her, crouching low as the second eagle swept down to rejoin the first. He grinned at his good fortune, for the second bird would provide just the distraction he needed to make them forget his presence.

He was silent and still for a few minutes, just watching as the second eagle moved to re-engage the other in battle over the carcass. Artaax pulled his paws beneath him, tensing his muscles in preparation to move. A few more minutes passed, and finally, he crept forward another few inches. Then stopped. And waited.

When he takes the challenge she dangled in front of him, she smirks and shakes her head a little as she settles back to watch him work. Every so often she’d look ahead at the birds but she’s far more interested to see what he’s got up his sleeve.
 
Except he doesn’t do anything. Nox blinks a few times, licks her lips, and shuffles impatiently the longer he sits there. Eventually, she gets pretty tired of it and half-ass jumps at him. “You don’t accomplish nothin’ just sittin’ there!” she shouts and darts off towards the birds again, barking as she goes with no clear intent to actually catch them. At this point, she’s just tired of snooty mcsnooter pants.

He was just about to spring (aka creep another few inches forward) when he heard movement behind him. Artaax turned in time to see the female darting up alongside him, shouting, and then leaping away like an idiot once again. The hunter stared incredulously after her, his face contorted with shock and anger that she would do something so heinous. For a moment, he felt very close to attacking her. But instead, he just stood there, impotently, like a grumpy little boy who wanted to play board games but everyone was too busy joking and not taking it as seriously as he did.

She barks a few more seconds, distracting the birds but not enough to move them away from the kill. After a moment, she glances over her back to see what the white wolf is doing and she smirks, stiffly wagging her tail despite the irritation between them. When she decides she’s effectively fucked up the chase for him—for she does not think the birds will turn their backs on him now—she begins to trot off as smoothly as she can with an awkward gait and a searing pain shooting the entire length of her back.

Artaax's shocked morphed into an angry glare as the female drove his prey away. It was clearly an intentional move. Silently, he hoped that the eagles would swoop down on her again and this time, they'd tear her damn eyes out of her skull. But they didn't. They whirled away into the air as she trotted away, leaving him angry and frustrated and disappointed. Furiously, he turned and stalked away in the other direction, not even bothering to claim the half-eaten carcass they had left behind. It was not the prey he'd been after, and he would rather have no prize at all than the consolation prize.