Blackbeak Bluff don’t do it, don’t give it up
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#1
All Welcome 
 Komodo had been feeling rather reclusive lately, as he was wont to do. The man was sociable and fell easily into leadership roles, but above all he was a wanderer who got his kicks from solo endeavors. The time he spent with his merry band of minstrels was cherished indeed, and the brute always felt lighter after spending time in their company, but it was that day he bid them adieu [along with the rest of the seawolves, many of whom had convened during the harvest moon and chosen to stay] and struck out on his own for what he hoped would be several uninterrupted days of travel. He would be back soon, and would hopefully find them unmoved and settled upon Wheeling Gull Isle — but until then, he edged along the coast and deigned to follow any want and whim that crossed his consciousness. 
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#2

there were so many birds.

the yearling crouched, her limbs tucked tight to her undercarriage as her tail steadied her, slinking towards a group of gulls.

her chocolate gaze held upon the colony as the tall, lush grasses that had survived the winter waved beneath the gentle breeze.  they blended in well with the snow but they were loud and confident, and she had not yet seen where the land dropped off steep to the beaches below.

wiggling her rump, she launched herself at one of the gulls, her petite jaws snapping wildly.  she had not been on many of her own hunting expeditions; her mother had not really expected her to leave, and her inexperience shone through as the gulls scattered in a flurry.

she tumbled through the snow, and one of her back paws broke through the ice that had covered the edge of the bluff, and the delicate bones of her leg clashed against the rock.  terrified, she went to grip with her other leg and slid — both back legs hanging off the bluff, but not quite dangling.

she whimpered and screamed, trying to get a grip with her dull claws.

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#3
The land here was quiet, despite the many packs that had settled here in his absence — the last time he had graced these shores, there had only been one pack besides the Undersea wolves themselves. Now, they were surrounded on almost all sides. A small part of it made the earthstalker a bit more cautious than he was normally, but he was a diplomatic man and easily saw how a close proximity to other groups of strong wolves could be beneficial to them all. The man was excited to get to know them.

He had almost hoped to run into one of these other wolves on his small journey, but found himself to be alone. His large form stood on the threshold of the large face of sheetrock, allowing the winds to rise and buffet his exposed chest and chin. It was refreshing, and the man gently mourned for the austerity of winter, as refreshing as it was. Soon, the air here would be heavy with salt-sticky humidity and his thick northerner’s coat might become a burden.

a snap. a scream.

Komodo’s attention was commanded immediately, his pulse rushed and his heart set the pace — his gilded gaze darted across the horizon to find the disturbance, to see what is was, but there was nothing that could immediately be perceived. But then he noticed signs of a disturbance, broken ice and what seemed to be claw marks. Now attuned to this one spot, the brute took note of the whimpers and within moments, his corded form covered the distance between here and there.

Bracing himself against the drop-off with stiffened front limbs, he leant over and saw the girl struggling to gain purchase. She battled fiercely, likely doing more harm than good; Komodo saw this going badly soon, fast, now. The immediate need was to calm her in her frantic scramble, which was certainly understandable given her current situation, but might be her undoing. “Hey, hey, easy now—” the man murmured in his customary baritone, perhaps a little too calm; but, here, he must gain control. “Ah’ gotcha.” and he bent down to grasp the nape of her neck betwixt his jaws and assist in her ascent — but not pick her up entirely, lest he lose his footing and become the bluff’s most recent victim. 
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#4

she continued to struggle, but wolves claws were not made for holding onto ice and rock.  she was no cougar with its massive paws, and she lacked the goat's pert hooves and grace to balance herself on the slight footholds of the bluff.  

someone approached, although his presence did not help.  her mother's baleful tone came to the forefront of her mind, reminding fawn that men cannot be trusted.  her eyes widened in fear as the large man approached her and even as he made to prevent her from getting herself into a worse situation than she was presently in, her whimpering became more frantic as tears sprung to life and pooled in her big doe-eyes.

noooo, she pleaded as the male's massive jaws found purchase at her scruff, aiding in her ascent.  she grappled desperately and found that with his assistance she was able to scrabble back to the top of the bluff.

she appreciated his help, but her mother's warnings were not so easily lost upon her.  who are you, she asks, more with the tone of a statement than a question.  why did you help me?

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#5
Her small cries of protest were largely ignore by the burly male — his focus was entirely on spiriting this girl to safety, with all four of her tiny feet planted firmly on solid earth. It took a larger effort than he had previously assumed, having dove right into the task of plucking her from the promontory’s razor-sharp edge, and a guttural sound that denounced effort leaked from between his jaws where they grasped at her thin pelt. 

Within seconds, the girl was able to claw her way back to the safety of ground and Komodo backpedaled to immediately allow for her personal space. It was something women often needed, especially when having just dealt with a life-threatening experience. The brute’s heart too beat something furious, and he waited a moment to catch his breath and still his quick-moving pulse before addressing her demand for information.
 
“Look-ee here, chickadee,” the earthstalker burled, looking down his muzzle at the tawny-toned shewolf. A tiny thing, she was, and seemingly untrustworthy of his motives — and, honestly, she probably should be. Komodo was no saint, despite his penchant for coming to the rescue. “Were yah na’ in need uh’some assistance?” A heavy paw was placed before the other, drawing nearer.  “Ah ain’t keen on seein’ uh’ nice lady vanish, righ’ fur my very eyes.” 
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#6

look-ee here, chickadee, he says and her doe eyes narrow into dark and pointed daggers.  he had given her the space she required but she still took several sprawling steps backwards on her willow stilt legs.

he is a smooth talker with an undeniably southern accent; she cannot decipher if his personal nicknames are because she is fragile or because of his heritage.  nice lady, chickadee.

she assumes, for now, that it is the latter.  she will give him the benefit of the doubt because he did just save her hide, after all.  okay, she breathes silently, averting her gaze to the ground.  i'm fawn.

it did not need to be said that she was alone; her emaciated form and cowering stature should be enough.

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#7
He continued to regard her carefully, now coming to the realization that he wasn’t entirely certain of the nature of her fall. Perhaps she hadn’t wanted his help after all — perhaps it had been purposeful, as sometimes wolves were capable of such things. She seemed shaken, skeptical; his own gaze narrowed alongside hers and a silence fell between them as they both tried to figure each other out. 

“Ah’m Komodo,” he finally introduced himself, noting how they had both been named after another type of animal. Komodo was a title the brute had given himself, as his family’s tradition stated. When he was just a few months old he had been awe struck by a story of lizards as big as wolves themselves. Dragons, the vagrant had told him as a young man, with a bite than can kill. Komodo had been sold on the idea from the start.  

The young girl seriously did resemble a fawn though, with her trembling nature and tawny hide. “Y’alright?” he questioned succinctly, lowering his hips to the ground and craning his ears forward, visibly reassuring Fawn that she had his attention, and he wouldn’t leave if she didn’t desire it.
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#8

she was grateful for his help, and her standoffish nature had dissipated entirely as she cowed before him.  her ears flattened, her gaze not meeting his.

she was acutely aware of how the notches of her spine rippled beneath her thin skin, the gentle but emaciated slope of her hips.  she was willow-thin as a general rule and she had found that surviving without her mother's care was difficult.  she'd never even learned to hunt properly!

and really, she did not like taking life with her own jaws.  yeah, she lies.  she is unscathed by the peril that he had rescued her from other than a dull throb in her scruff, and her whiskers give a twitch.  do you.. do you know of anywhere around here that maybe, i could.. stay?

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#9
Her affirmation was not believed for a second. Her condition belied her words, and his firm gaze quickly glanced over her scant figure. Almost nothing more than skin and bones, poor thing. The angakkuq softened then, realizing a hard demeanor was no longer necessary — no one’s life was in danger any longer, so he could afford to make-nice with the girl.

“Aye,” The man stated flatly, raising an eyebrow at her question. “There’s uh group uh’us back thatta-way,” he gestured over his shoulder, from whence he came. Wheeling Gull Isle was back in his life, so it seemed, for Serein and Sirimiri and Brontide seemed keen on staying in the place where their family was, which made total sense and Komodo wasn’t really opposed to it. The stormborn wolves always held a special place in his heart.


The mottled man offered the girl a wry smile, wondering if he could even poke a bit of fun at her. Some weren’t as open to his moments of jocularity as others were, and Komodo wondered which was she. “But we live on an islan’, ‘course” he said, “lots’a water.  His ear swiveled against the sound of the ocean that crashed against the thick limestone beneath them. “So y’can’t be throwin’ yourself into th’ocean like… tha’ lil’ show, o’r there.”
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#10

komodo offers up his own pack instead of something nearby, and something about having an escort instead of being alone again causes her heart to thrum.

oh. she says, dumbfounded.  well that was easy.  where did the trap her mother warned her about come in?  maybe there was no pack at all.  but she didn't think that was the case because he had saved her!

it's more fun when they're alive.  gross, where did that come from?  i've never been to an island, she says with some excitement, trying to distract herself.  what is it like?

he jests.  normally such a comment would have been awarded with razor-sharp eyes and a set jaw,  but it was another thing she related to his southern upbringing.  n-no, mister.  i wouldn't.

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#11
The earthstalker sees the girl brighten, can hear it in her voice, and this pleased him immensely.  “Good.” he rumbled in response, letting his heavy-handed gaze linger for a moment too long before tearing it away and resettling it elsewhere. Looking over a broad shoulder, Komodo cut his gilded orbs to scry the shape of wheeling gull isle against the oceanic backdrop. He had fully expected see it there, standing proudly amongst the mists — but there was nothing.

He turned back to Fawn, feeling the leathered pouch that hung ‘round his neck hit gently against the curvature of his breastbone. “There’s uh’ lil’ black dog there — ah’ thank she’ll like yah,” he commented idly, his words sitting like gravel between his molars. Komodo doubted there was a single being in the world that Coelacanth didn’t love — and that become even more true when they were small things, in need of nurturing.  A small part of the man was excited to bring the inkdark girl a present such as this — another soul to save and swathe in the sanctity of her island. 

Komodo’s tongue drew across the edges of his mouth. “Well, an island…” He paused to think of what of island infrastructure he should gloss over, and what might be important to know. “It’s gat water ‘round it, on ah’ll sides.”  A caramel-colored brow was raised, as he suspected his next statement might be of importance to her.“It’s very safe, ‘cause y’can only git to it once er twice uh’day, when th’tide is low,”

“Jus’ ‘bout errythang yuh’d need, yuh can fin’ there.” It was true, and that’s what stifled him so. The aqueous walls that blockaded them on all side soothed some, but entrapped other. As long as he had the freedom to come and go, this was a luxury he was willing to sacrifice for the sake of the other seawolves. Then Komodo fell silent, interested in what Fawn might say in response to these things. Would he come with her, so easily?
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#12

fawn shrinks over his lingering gaze, her throat tightening.  there was something primal and predatory about the man that even her young eye could decipher, and she felt unsure under his protection.

she did not offer protest or interjection as he began to talk, remaining silent to drink in the information he had so freely offered her.  fawn was ultimately a young and blossoming woman and despite her mother's insistent warning, her trust came easily.  the island's description sounded safe enough, and she was pleased to learn of at least one other member — especially one who might take a liking to her.

how many others are there?  is it just you and the dog?  she wanted to know what she was getting into but felt it rude to pry too much.  and if we left now, would we be arriving.. on time?  could we get to the island?  she did not particularly like the thought of spending an entire night with the earthstalker alone.  

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#13

“No.”

The word probably came out more harshly than intended, but it was late in the day and the man had no plans to cross the sandbar when it would reappear that night. “Sumtimes y’can swim th’seas, but th’currents kin git ornery when the weatha’ warms.” He clarified, hoping to soften the blow that they would not arrive at their destination same-day. The air was still cold, the coast still icey, and the season still wintery; so it was not truly the currents that alerted him, but her frailty. Komodo had doubts that this tiny thing could breach the channel and survive to tell the tale... but, he wouldn’t be the one to tell her that.

No, they must wait until early morning when the ocean would shrink back and expose the land bridge once more. To Komodo, this was not a huge imposition. He had made hearth and home upon the beaches abreast the isle many times before, and would likely do it many times again, but the brute wasn’t exactly used to women being distrustful of him — in his past experience, they had always been somewhat drawn to him, his durability beautifully contrasting their inherent, feminine softness, which was a divine thing to experience, really — So it did not arise in Komodo’s mind that Fawn might be afraid of him, or question his motives, for they truly were wholesome and he was only desirous of her well-being.

“There'll be uthers,” he assured anyways. The earthstalker was involved now, and as he did with all his patients, he would see them through to the end of their treatment. “Y’hungry?” he proffered, though the answer was obvious. Even if she hadn’t been clearly starving, there was nothing better after an adrenaline rush than a fine meal.
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#14

oh.

his single-word answer caused dread to pit in her stomach, twisting it into knots.  his reasoning passed over her without care.  it didn't matter why they wouldn't make it, just that they wouldn't.

his accent was also just a little hard to decipher sometimes.  ornery.  what kind of word was that?

the girl took in a deep breath and held onto it for a moment, working herself down.  it would be okay.  if he wanted to have killed her, she would have done it.  and if he wanted to do.. anything else to her, she'd find out soon enough.

the thought of food roused her.  yeah, she offers meekly, but i'm bad at hunting.

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#15
It was then that Komodo took notice of the waif’s apparent discomfort, for he was an intuitive man and her apprehension was thinly-veiled. This he did not like, as he found consent and autonomy to be of the utmost importance, even when it came to something as trivial as spending time with one another — Komodo did not like to push things that were not meant to be. But that was surely not the case here, as this starving girl must have been through the ringer and a little trauma was to be expected, understood and accommodated for.

She did not need to alert him to the fact that she was a novice hunter — he had figured as much. “S’okay. C’mon,” he reassured her. She would not need to hunt here, nor at Undersea, if she so desired. The island left them wanting for nothing, so Fawn could always contribute in other ways. The brute stepped forward, placing one saucer-like paw in front of the other and flicking his chin in the direction of Wheeling Gull Isle. They could at least make headway towards their final destination and see what prey potential they found on the way. Though the sunlight would soon begin to fade, he was certain they would make their beds upon the beaches just across the channel from the islands. Perhaps the close proximity of these ‘others’ would but the girl at ease. 

Certain his young charge would not make a fuss, he started walking inland, in a southwest trajectory. “alrigh', alrigh’, alrigh’,” he burred, preparing the girl for his official inquiry. He heaved his heavy gaze over his shoulder to look upon her. “Where yuh from, ’n why y’all ‘lone?”
night clubs & night stalkers
fast women, fast talkers
loose lips, loose limbs
the lovely loveless