Tuktu Weir I’m No Hero
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Ooc — Flyleaf
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#1
All Welcome 
Dakota trotted through this forest. The forest, that he’s heard, has the king of all elk or deer or whatever it was. He doesn’t quite believe it after all but he still help his eye out for said beast. When he meets a clearing and his eyes traverse along the beauty of this lake it makes him stare for a few extra minutes. 

The moderately thick layer of snow covering the ground around the lake where the forests trees allow it to fall. The lake is partly frozen over. The only parts unfrozen look like damage from the native beaver that’ve made the lake their home, their dam. 

The snow collects on his coat evenly as he settles in, watching the nature before him. The ice has to be moderately thick on the lake he thinks, but still doesn’t bother to try crossing. He’s been a sled dog long enough to know how to deal with frozen over bodies of water. Then something peculiar catches his eye out on the lake, possibly about eight meters out; an animal of some sorts. 

He goes closer, squinting honey colored eyes and notices it’s a doe. The female deer skids along the ice of the frozen lake on her belly, unable to stand due to her hooves. Sadly as she tries her hardest to stand and move she stays stagnant, unable to gain traction on the frozen surface. At this moment, Dakota sighs to himself. He has to do this. His pack like instincts are kicking in, where he thought his predator-prey instincts should be, but apparently fail to.

He makes his way to the edge of the bank. Pressing a paw onto the lakes surface as an experimental weight, he deems it safe enough to stand on. He bows his head and lies his chest to the ice and kicks off the bank with his hind legs, shooting his body a good few feet to the center of the lake across the ice. In a low crawl, he evens out his body weight and slides his stomach and chest along the ice, propelling himself with small scoots of his paws.

Eyes held with determination to save this doe he notices the deer looking at him with her impossibly wide eyes. She’s terrified of him, terrified of the lake. In fear, she tried her hardest to get up again and almost succeeds but tumbled down again and Dakota hears a crack in the ice that makes him go still.

“Don’t move!” He shouts stupidly out to the doe, assuming she could understand him. “I’m coming to save you. Not eat you, save you!” 

He continues on and he’s not sure if she understands but she seems to go stock still. He crawls along the ice and finally makes it to her, she side eyes him nervously and he reaches up to grab the base of her neck and her breathing picks up and she starts to try and scamper off again. Another crack in the ice.

“Stop moving or we’ll both die.” He tries but attempts to say smoothly to soothe her anxiety. He instead grabs her leg towards her hoof and she lets him. It’s more of a challenge to make it back than he expected. He’d lose traction and not go anywhere until he dug his claws into the ice.

Finally he makes it to the bank and he stands, letting go of the does leg he meets solid ground again, but she remains there staring up at him. He gazes down to her and hooks his chin on the back of her neck and pulls her the rest of the way and her knobby legs finally touch the snow. Dakota back up from her and she slowly catches her footing standing shakily she glances down back to him once last time. Their eyes meet and he gives her a fleeting smile and he almost can see her thanking him with those big doe eyes of hers.

She sprints off and Dakota watches her little fluffy white tail perk up as she jumps over bushes. The plume of his tailless butt hits the snow and he releases the breath he never knew he was holding. Well he’s done his good deed for the day.
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Shadewood
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#2
riley watched all of this with the most incredulous, slack-jawed expression known to wolf. here was dinner, served on an icy platter -- and this wolf came along and ruined it.

his stomach roared in rebuke, and he fixed the male with a narrowed gaze as he came closer. there was something not quite right about this wolf. riley summed him up in a matter of seconds, and decided that this was strangest wolf he had ever seen - and not for his heroic action on the ice.

it was the shape of his ears, the angle of his muzzle. it was all wrong. riley stood at attention as the brute came closer, his legs stiff and head high. "why didn't you kill it?" he queried, not bothering to hide the haughty contempt in his voice.
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#3
Dakota gazes at this chocolate colored wolf indifferently. He’s not afraid of wolves and he understands the standpoint of the wolf’s argument and questionable looks the other gives him. He’s fought and befriended plenty of wolves when he was a sled dog, he continues to stand tall with a slight smile on his face, if he had a tail it’d be standing confidently in the air as he saunter over to this stranger wolf.

“There’s more to the world than killing, isn’t there?” He comments casually, tilting his head, large saucer like ears facing the other, listening acutely.

The dog mix laughs at his own comment and the odd way the other stares at him. “Plus I have enough confidence in my ability to find food later on than to kill that doe. Even without my sense of smell.” He boasts with a devilish, but not hostile smirk.
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#4
was there more to the world than killing?

riley contemplated this statement with a dark expression. his entire life, he had known killing. it was as natural to him as breathing. you kill, you eat. you sleep. you kill again. why break the cycle?

his gaze hardened as the male drew closer; in his opinion, the rather strange looking wolf was close enough. he refused to back up a step, and fought the urge to do so -- he did not want to let the wolf know he was possibly unsure. in that way, riley was still incredibly juvenile.

then the wolf said something more ridiculous. riley swept an ear back, realizing the misshapen wolf must not have been here long if he made so bold a statement. since as long as he could remember, the large game here had been woefully scarce. rather than respond to any of what the male said, riley was prompted to say the one thing on his mind -- unabashedly, at that: "what is wrong with you?"
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#5
Dakota stares blankly at the wolf for just a few seconds then barks out a hearty laugh at the others question. Maybe there is something wrong with him. He laughs internally. His long canines on display as he laughs, the laugh isn’t malicious; it’s more amused at the others possible close-mindedness.

The dog sees the way he shifts, he’ll give it to him, he has a good amount of confidence that is impressive for his age (which Dakota assumes is fairly young) but he can see just a pinch of uncertainty. He doesn’t blame him, he’s sure meeting other wolves is nerve-racking, especially if all wolves are as blood hungry as he’s heard.

Dakota’s laugh died down some time ago as he observed this stranger. He turns his back on the other and spins casually around to end up further from him. Doesn’t want to make the other uncomfortable.

Dakota has a sense of carelessness, he acts like nothing’s a big deal. A certain, almost annoying, uncaring way he lazily walks about. Then his honey eyes gaze to the other. “Oh, you have a lot to learn.” He comments. “Sure, killing will always be a part of a wolf’s life. Though if you refuse to see the life behind it–the advantages and friendships–it will cloud your judgement; consume your soul. And a whole bunch of other crazy shit like that.”

He says this gradually getting more and more serious. His sunny eyes getting more intense then all of a sudden it’s gone and he’s got that casual smile across his face again. “Might not sound so bad, but it will help you more than hurt you.” He shrugs, walking casually towards the lake and pawing the ice.
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#6
the strange 'wolf' laughed, earning the full bristle of riley's pelt in response. was the wolf laughing at him? riley squinted, feeling his gums curl back in a quiet growl.

he despised being laughed at more than anything.

he thought of leta and how he had wanted to wring her neck for grinning at him. for laughing, and being happy. that ugly emotion speared through his heart as he glanced upon the wolf that had just laughed at him. this wolf, who was possibly the least wolf-like of any wolf riley had ever met. (how close he was to the truth, though he did not know it).

riley's blood boiled in response. a switch flicked within him as he watched the male turn his back to him, making his way across the ice.

he doesn't deserve to live, riley decided darkly. he isn't right, he isn't a true wolf - riley followed silently after the creature, a dark shadow stealing across his eyes.

he knew what must be done.
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#7
Dakota had seen the dark wolf bare his teeth slightly in irritation and already Dakota knows what kind of wolf he is. He’s sure to watch him out of the corner of his eye, though he knows he has to be cautious around him he has confidence that he can avoid bloodshed.

The wolf dog mix tries not to result in fighting, but where the younger wolf is full of hard muscle Dakota has his size, strength, age, and experience. He’s fought plenty of wolves when he was a sled dog, he had to protect his family and when fighting is the only way, he usually found himself victorious. His body is conditioned in a way no wolf in the wild would naturally be able to have. He’s been pulling sleds as a working dog since he was ten months and had done it every day without stop since then until about a month ago. Dakota doesn’t underestimate the other, he’s sure just his sheer determination could give him a hearty victory.

He continues to paw the ice from the bank of the lake. The snow falls evenly and light, but those honey colored eyes still see the other out of the corner of his eye. Then he sees the slightest of movement and he smiles again.

“Are you planning on attacking me?” He questions casually. “You underestimate me cause I’m a dog, no?” He faces the other, head held high. “You are young still, I wish to help you see that there is more to the world than to judge one another on looks or the pureness of genes.” He pauses, looking to the other. “I also gotta say, if you are a smart fighter at all you could see I have a significant advantage over you.” He says this not to try and egg him on to fight but more to convince him not to.
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#8
riley paused mid-prowl as dakota spoke, fixing a honey gaze on the yearling. riley raised his head instinctively - the full of his height flaring as if he were peacocking in response to the male's shift in posture. riley did not like this strange wolf - not one iota. in riley's head he believed the strange wolf was not right -  and not for his looks alone.

he was not in the least taken aback by the male's directness. if anything, there was a certain thrill in hunting something that knew it was being chased. riley regarded the male with a reptilian gaze, his tongue thumbing between his front teeth in thought. "what is a 'dog'?" riley asked, unfamiliar with the term. he assumed it was a non-native word for wolf, but again, he could scarcely call dakota wolf at all.
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#9
Dakota faces the other directly, coming just a few steps closer but not too close as to irritate the other. Or at least that’s his intention. 

“Dog basically means ‘one who is not wolf’.” He simplifies.Though we are decendants of them. We aren’t exactly one of them. Some dogs have the possibility to be bigger than wolves and if mixed with one could be even stronger than a regular wolf.” Dakota shrugs. “Don’t understand why so many of your kind undermine us. Especially the ones who still have some wolf in them. Like I do; my mother was half wolf.”

Dakota comes just a tad closer, yellow eyes gleaming. “Isn’t it better to be friend than foe?”
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Riley listened, albeit slowly. His features appeared distracted, but in truth, he was simply processing. 'Not-Wolf'. To Riley, this simply meant not of his kind -- and everything not of his kind was food.. Or plants.

His reptilian gaze flickered to Dakota warily. It suddenly made sense now, why the not-wolf looked like him, but in ways that were alarmingly different. "Are you like a fox then?" He lifted his chin, ignoring the question about friends vs foe. In Riley's world, everyone was an enemy and Dakota was no different.
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#11
Dakotas brows raise in a sort of good kind of surprise. Perhaps he could ge the other wolf to see reason. Dakota would rather not fight such a young soul with so much life yet to live, but of course, if he must then he will. The the canary eyes of the other gaze back at him, a certain way that’s says he’s always poised and ready to kill–like a snake–Dakota remarks to himself.

Then the mutt tilts his head when the other suggests that he’s like a fox. His face is contemplative; perhaps he could be, but not quite. “Hmm, I suppose I could be. Not too keen on foxes. They’re so vastly different from you and I.” He says wondering himself.

Then he smiles slightly, with a devilish gleam in his eye. “You consider foxes food then?” He asks, more as a joke, but knows the other will take it too seriously.

He sits down, the furry haunches and his nun of a tail hitting the snow. “Tell me, how did you end up so stone cold and ready to kill anything in site? Was it your pack? Bloodthirsty ruthless killers? Or parents? Perhaps a traumatic experience? I’d love to know.” He tilts his head. “I’d give the world to help you see differently.” He smiles almost sweetly with only a hint of biting sarcasm, knowing that the other was so close minded makes him laugh. It will ultimately lead to the wolf’s demise further down in his future; an early demise it could be as well.
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#12
Dakota's answer, in Riley's eyes, was not very helpful. So, he was supposedly like a fox then? Food? Riley didn't think this male would make an easy dinner, and that was when his interest in the fox-not-fox waned considerably.

Already Dakota was sitting down, ready to dive into a palaver that Riley had little interest in partaking in. Rudely (sorry, Dakota) Riley didn't stay: he had seen and learned enough from this strange canine creature to learn he would have better success elsewhere. He was not particularly keen on keeping company, nor was he interested in talking about himself with a stranger.

The best Dakota would get as a goodbye was a grunt, and then Riley was stalking bullishly on his way.