Sheepeater Cliff disco party

Viggo was never too terribly far from Ptarmigan, although they did stray from time to time. Their relationship was friendly, at the very least, and he enjoyed the time that he had spent with her thus far. She was a cutie, nobody could deny that, and their personalities seemed to match up reasonably well. They hunted together on occasion, but Viggo had parted from her about an hour ago so that they might explore and report back to one another with whatever it was they happened to find during their short ventures. With plans to meet up later, of course.

The Ostrega had caught the scent of sheep, and while the mountains made him dizzy to look at, he couldn't help himself. He began the slow and steady climb of the cliffs, hoping that perhaps he would come across one of the delicious-smelling creatures. If not, he'd let Ptarmigan know that there was nothing good to be had here.

"Bhaaaaaa," the small predator mocked to the mountain sheep ahead of her. Over its shoulder, the animal stared with an unimpressed expression. "What? Is my accent off?" It wasn't often that the little leader exercised her comedic talents -hence her lack of skill. However, her recent accomplishments had her in an unusually fresh mood.

With little more than inherited memories to guide her Tulind had gotten herself remarkably close to her goal of Otter Creek. Of course she had become misplaced once or twice along the trail, but had eventually righted herself both times through sheer will. It was an impressive nod to the coyote, and it invigorated her to go even further -regardless of whatever obnoxious obstacles came her way.

Swishing her messy tail against her heels, she began to ki-yip until the beast was driven away. After all, it possessed no potential to her as a meal -only an unorthodox danger. Gloating in her evident force, she was ignorant to the wolf advancing behind her...

An unexpected "bhaaaaa" almost sent Viggo tumbling down the cliffs, but he managed to catch himself just in time. Squinting, he listened as the coyote in front of him began to talk to what he had hoped to eat. Now that they were aware of a predator, he thought it unlikely that he would eat anything at all. Viggo was quite used to coyotes. In Sedona, they flooded the world, and some clans even roamed not so far from his parents' land. For the most part, they left the wolves alone, and the wolves left them alone. There was mixing of blood, something that Viggo had been guilty of on more than one occasion.

"I doubt it's your accent, deary," he replied, "It would be like the sheep saying, 'Awooo!' at you." By itself, a howl was just noise. It took great finesse to send messages with one's voice. He imagined the sheep weren't that much different in the way they communicated. "What were you trying to say to it? 'Come to me, and I won't eat you'?" He had never tried that strategy, but perhaps it was quite effective.

As its hooves stroked against the callous rock smaller fragments were released in a spray. Slanting her head away and squinting -although she was in no real danger- Tulind was blind as to where her victim escaped over the next escalation of rock. Wasting a few moments in attempting to figure out this mysterious where, the coyote was oblivious in her odd celebration.

That was until the male startled her by speaking, the detectable accent of his differentiating species running a chill down her thin spine. Contrary to the stranger Tu had not been raised kindly alongside wolves. She didn't exactly fear them but, she was reverently aware of their capabilities and tendency to display them out of moods as simple as boredom.

Wheeling around with a swiftness that could have caused her great peril, the smaller predator teetered while looking at the brown beast with doe eyes. There was nowhere to escape, she thought desperately -nowhere to even really hide. However, as he continued his casual ascent up the mountain Tulind noted the universal queues of ease in his swagger. At least he didn't look as though his plans were to skin her alive.

Considering this, her face became somewhat serious and she ki-yipped at him with greater force than she had the oversized lamb. He needn't come any closer. At least not until she was absolutely sure of him. "I told him that I wanted the mountain to myself," she lied -but with sarcasm and a stiff chin. After all, Tulind wasn't just any coyote.

Viggo peered at the coyote, trying to figure out if she was being serious or not. He decided she wasn't and stood where he had stopped. “That’s awfully greedy of you, don’t you think?” he questioned, figuring he might as well play along with her joke. “What would you even do with a whole mountain?” Viggo thought maybe she wished to settle here. And if that were the case, she would not have much trouble keeping others away. If she stayed on the upper cliffs, it would be difficult for anybody to get to her. Viggo knew that he would not wish to scale these cliffs unless there was something particularly good at the top.

“I’m jesting, of course,” he added, a keen smile on his face. “Does your clan live nearby?” That, of course, was assuming she belonged to one at all. Many coyotes were rogues, but they did tend to settle during the birthing season and occasionally travel in familial units.

Glaring at the male as she was Tu still couldn't discern an obvious threat. It wasn't the first time that she had met peaceable with a wolf, but it was the first conversation. Tilting her narrow head, the coyote wondered somewhat confusedly as to whether he was the norm or the exception of wolves in the Teekon Wilds. Unfortunately, she would just have to deal with the meeting in front of her and figure the rest out later.

"I would rule it," she announced defiantly -revealing a little more of the true Tulind. Adjusting herself on her slab of crusted earth, she inclined her head the other way while still studying him seriously. "Why does your pack live nearby?" In this question she wasn't being terribly coy. She honestly wanted to know. As she intended to hold council with the neighboring wolves -whoever they were- prior to her clan settling.

I'm not sure if you meant to place a comma after "why," but I thought it made for an amusing interpretation. :P

This was a feisty one, it seemed. The coyote intended to rule here, not just attempt to talk to the sheep who lived on its steep slopes. He wondered if the other wolves in the area knew of her plans (or even of her presence). Nobody had mentioned anything about coyotes since he had been here, but perhaps the subject simply hadn't come up yet. Considering he had coyote blood in him (somewhere far back in his lines), and he knew it, Viggo couldn't convince himself to be too harsh toward them. At least not anymore harsh than he was to wolves.

"Why does your pack live nearby?" the coyote asked, and Viggo cocked his head to one side, indicating his confusion. “My pack doesn’t live nearby,” he replied, “Which is doubly-true, considering I do not belong to one.” He and Ptarmigan had yet to settle down with one, and he was not even sure if they would settle in the area. Viggo had simply been tailing her around.

No good comes from sneak posting at work >.>


Thrusting oversized ears forward she attempted to gauge the truthfulness of his statement. Perhaps it was a ploy? He intended to comfort her with this false admission only to overwhelm the small band upon their official arrival. "Is that so," she remarked with eyes skeptically slanted. "You are a lone wolf then?" It was a term that Tulind knew well, and despite her own firm tone it was not intended in a derogatory sense. Although she herself had no direct experience in the matter, there was a general rumor among coyotes that these wolves were usually more agreeable. Maybe it was the humbling effect of being displaced from their natural living arrangements, but they were preferred all the same.

Buttered by this -were it true, Tu finally gifted herself the pleasure of sitting. The rock wasn't all that comfortable to remain standing on and she wouldn't so long as his good nature prevailed. "So are you just adventuring or do you intend to make nice with one of the local packs?" She was interested. If it was the latter then perhaps he could impart her with his garnered reviews of the Teekon Wilds' wolves.

Viggo dipped his head once to confirm her suspicion. Despite his ties to Ptarmigan, he was a lone wolf. Two wolves did not make a pack. He was still uncertain as to what Ptarmigan intended to do, but he was happily along for the ride so long as it didn't put him in danger. Of course, the longer he stuck around her, the more his view of "danger" was skewed. Ptarmigan could do no wrong in his eyes, and while he did not realize this, it could very well put him in a peculiar position.

“I do not yet know,” Viggo answered truthfully, flicking an ear back. He was following Ptarmigan, and that was as far as he had gotten. It seemed he had replaced the search for his father with being glued to her. One obsession traded for the other. Sniffing the air lightly, Viggo made a rather curious discovery. “You are the only coyote I taste in the wind,” the Ostrega observed, “Do you intend to rule an empty land?” He doubted that was the case, but a mild jest could easily rile more information out of her.

In a way they both had their guards about them which made for an interesting conversation. Tulind, was reasonable cautious of being eaten, and the male just seemed intent on screwing with her. It was a precarious balance.

Erecting her invisible brow at his admission, Tu wondered just how long he could survive with his solitary status. Certainly there had to be a sensible reason as to why wolves lived in such collections to begin with. "Well, you would do good to think on it and soon... winter won't wait forever." It was a stretch bypassing autumn, but her point remained valid. She would be remiss to discover such a reasonable wolf dead from frostbite.

However, his next comment gave her pause. Well, his choice of wording to be exact. "And tell me wolf, what exactly do I taste like?" He seemed ominously familiar with the flavor to mention it that way. Rising to her feet again, but making no other motions to leave, Tu wondered if he would make up for it or ruin their meeting entirely. Until then, she would tell him nothing of her followers.

Viggo knew that he would need to seek shelter sooner rather than later, and he did not need somebody else to tell him this. He blinked at the coyote, but made no mention of her insult to his intelligence. She was just as avoidant at answering questions, replying to his own with a question of her own concoction. Viggo furrowed his brow when she spoke, unable to comprehend exactly what she was getting at.

“I imagine you’d taste sweet,” he replied, “Though I don’t mean that in the eating you sense.” Just like his father, Viggo was a swarthy and suave gentleman, and he had a wide berth of tastes. Coyotes were not unknown to him, nor would he turn away such a spicy one. The Ostrega had a smidge of coyote blood in him as well, so he couldn't really judge those who were born of it.

Palatable -it was a gentlemen's approach to an uncouth question. Had he rated her sour -or something along those lines- Tulind would've been liable to take offense. Yet, as it was he had countered her suspicions with an unusual compliment that she had little choice but to accept. Forming her ears to fit the curve of her head she thanked him hardly, before turning her attention away just as quick. She was running out of humor to test the male's kindness and as a result had become somewhat uncomfortable with his seemingly genuine hospitality.

Of course due to her age and own inexperience, Tu could never know the lewd source of most of his tolerance. She herself had never taken interest in another, and it was beyond her to imagine that that other could ever be a wolf. Slashing her tail as she failed in her own innocent ignorance, the coyote woman missed a few beats before offering her response. "Well eating you was never an option so I suppose that makes us even." In her dimmer world it was the best that one could expect between the two of them.

Although she was still unwilling to mention her troops, Tu was interested to hear what he thought of the collective packs. Hoping that perhaps he wouldn't notice the unfairness, she attempted to approach the subject somewhat casually. "Although... if I were to have a taste for wolf. Where would I find them the most tender hearted?" Tilting her head as she turned it back towards him silvery eyes twinkled like morning dew.

Ugh, I feel bad for holding this up! Going to fade out here since Tulind is no longer active.

Viggo wondered if she had caught his drift, but if she had, she kept it well-hidden. But it was her second statement that gave him a moment to reconsider. Her choice of words were... interesting, to say the least, and he thought that perhaps she had known what he was talking about all the while. And though his loyalty was devoted to Ptarmigan, his loins were devoted to none. “Having had both,” he replied, “I find that the tastes vary vastly per individual.” It was not usually the species that mattered at all.

At the sound of Ptarmigan's summoning howl, Viggo's ears pulled back to listen. Knowing that he did not want to keep her waiting, he bowed out as seamlessly as possible. “Until we meet again,” he said, tipping his head in her direction before turning back toward Ptarmigan's call.