Broken Antler Fen Little slice of heaven

All of his coyote friends seemed to have disappeared. He was disappointed, but Draper wasn't going to give up this little slice of heaven just because nobody could see the value in it. No, sir! Instead, he spent his days hunting and scavenging what he could. He was determined to make a life for himself here. Others would come along, he had faith in that. And in the meantime, he could continue to chase wolves out of this place on his own. Or rather, at least chase them out from the very small area of the fen he could patrol.

He was patrolling just now, actually. Draper hopped up on an old log, sniffing at the air. A light snowfall had just started, and the snowflakes melted on the tip of his nose. At least it was peaceful here.

Penn panted hard as he finally slowed to a stop after yet another failed attempt to nab himself a bunny to snack on. He'd been out in the Fen for a while now trying to get something--a stoat, a quail, a lemming, anything! He couldn't catch a fuckin' break to save his life.

Truth be told, he wasn't all that broken up about his failure. He actually didn't really even want the rabbit. He was sick hunting such small, weak creatures. They were boring, and he was sick of the taste of rodent. Penn wanted badly to hunt large game. His want was a physical tension in his bones, it was so strong. He longed for a real challenge, something that would actually test his strength and his boldness. Something that actually tasted good, like victory. And... well, just tasty meat.

Penn snorted as he turned away and continued to stalk along the plains. It wasn't too long before he discovered he was not the only one doing so, either. His interest piqued when he spotted the stranger. He assumed it was another wolf, though he sure was a small one. A smile brightened his features as he broke into a trot to help close the distance between them quicker.

"Hey, guy! You--uhh..." Penn faltered as he came close enough to realize something was off. This wasn't a wolf. Was it? He'd never met a coyote before, so his brain didn't piece that one together for him. He'd never met a wolf that looked so... subtly, but noticably, wrong before either though. His face twisted in startled confusion as he followed his greeting up with a blunt, "Dude, you don't look right."

Due to his most recent encounter, Draper was a little more on edge than he normally would have been. The scrap he'd gotten himself into just days before was still on his mind, and he had a brief flashback of those vacant, dead eyes. It still gave him the creeps. Not only that, but he was still healing from the wounds she'd given him. His ear was torn, his leg was still sore, and the top of his muzzle still stung whenever he licked it.

Even though that encounter had gone as terribly as it possibly could have (sans his death), he did not want to become one of those wolf-hating coyotes. She was just one wolf. Just as he was just one coyote. So when he was approached by a bright young chap, Draper did his best to settle his nerves, although he couldn't help but notice this wolf had a similar coloration to the last one. No pink nose, though, so maybe that was what had caused the other one to be so... whatever she was.

Never met a coyote before? Draper asked, cocking his head to one side. Also, you're kinda in my home, so it would be much appreciated if you could leave.

Penn frowned thoughtfully at the weirdo's comment for a few seconds before it clicked. He was a coyote. That's why he looked like he'd been born with some sort of dwarfism. The realization was clear on Penn's face as he lifted his eyebrows and exhaled a long Ohhhh! He'd certainly heard of his canid cousins before, even though he'd never met one before. He'd been told not to trust them, but this guy seemed fine. And he was so small, what was he gonna do? Muss his hair?

"How am I in your home? I don't smell a pack around here," Penn commented, honestly curious, "Does your kind even do the whole pack thing? Territory border markings and whatnot? Safety in numbers, that sorta thing?"

Draper looked at the young wolf incredulously. Just because the smell isn't strong doesn't make it not my home, he said. Clearly, his feathers had been ruffled. I can't hold much on my own, but y'know, it would be nice to get a little bit of respect for the tiny slice I can carve out for myself. Not my fault your nose is broken. Draper regularly surrounded his small slice of this world with his scent, but maybe this young one wasn't used to it.

Now go on! Scram! he said, taking a step toward the wolf. He would get in a scrap if he needed to, but he'd prefer not to after the last one had roughed him up quite a bit. And tell your friends to leave me alone, too!

Just like that, dude got pissy. Penn tried to stifle a smile, but wasn't too successful. He was young, full of fire and way overconfident, so he was not at all alarmed at being scolded by a coyote. It was actually just amusing to him, like he was watching a little bunny rabbit throwing a temper tantrum. He canted his head when he was told to scram, but didn't budge. 

"Dude, chill," he replied, "What're you being so bitchy about? I don't know your kind. Do all coyotes get so up in arms about being asked an innocent question or two?" He wondered if the anger was because dude was so small. Maybe he had a perfectly normal level of anger in him, but since he was so tiny, it spilled out all over the place because he didn't have enough room for it. Now that would be a terrible question to ask.

Well, now Draper was getting really annoyed. Not only was he being ignored, the wolf literally told him to "chill," which wasn't helping his mood. Wouldn't you get mad if I was in your home? he asked, flipping the script on the young wolf. Asking you all these questions? Maybe, just maybe, that would make this adolescent understand how rude it was to sit here and grill him about things. It wasn't like he was a freak of nature or anything... right?

I know for a fact that if I were in your home, you and all your friends would try to kill me, he added with a stern look.

"I mean, if you were a dick about it, sure," Penn answered promptly, shrugging. He hadn't really been raised to hate coyotes. Be wary of them, sure. But to attack and kill them on sight or any of the nonsense this coyote expected of him? No. And if he had been taught that, he certainly hadn't paid any attention. To him, anyone was welcome as long as they weren't total douchebags. 

Speaking of douchebags.

"If you were actin' all pissy and butthurt like this, then yeah, probably we would," Penn answered with a shrug, still feeling far too cocky to recognize he was about to get his face bitten, "But if you came at us like, I don't know, a friendly and inquisitive stranger," he paused to give the coyote a meaningful glance, "Maybe you'd see some different results."

He was patient, but he wasn't that patient and this whipper-snapper had pressed his luck far enough. Without saying a word, Draper launched himself directly toward the kid's face. He had given all the warnings in the world, and this was what happened when all those warnings were ignored. The Featherwind didn't like to resort to violence, especially considering his last brawl with a wolf, but it was ridiculous to think he could solve this argument with words. His bite aimed to latch on to whatever part of the boy's head he could get his mouth around.

Apparently the coyote was done with their conversation. No sooner had Penn uttered the word results than the baby wolf was throwing himself at him, reaching for his friggin' face. The Blackthorn yelped in surprise and ducked backwards, feeling teeth snag and tear through his left ear as he attempted to create some space between himself and his attacker.

"DUDE!" he shouted as he caught himself, snarled, and then flung himself back at the coyote shoulder first in an attempt to give the bitch the smack down so he could high tail it out of there. So much for peace between species. Geez.

Maybe, just maybe, wolves and coyotes were never meant to get along. Draper knew that there were hybrids out there, but he'd be damned if he'd ever seen a wolf and coyote be friendly enough to bone. Maybe it was different when hormones were involved. Not that he was thinking about that right now. The taste of blood trickled into his mouth, having caught the ear of his now-opponent. A split second later, Draper was smacked flat on the ground, the wind knocked out of him momentarily.

Penn out! <3

Contrary to popular belief and against all obvious evidence, Penn was not an idiot. Even when he played the part of the dumb ass, he knew exactly what he was doing. He knew that he was pushing the coyote's buttons and that he was likely in for a set of teeth to the face. He merely felt that an attempt to inspire peace between their species was worth the risk.

That was the lie he'd tell when he repeated the story to his friends, anyway. Really, he just liked getting under peoples skin.

His attempt to knock the coyote on its ass worked. This pleased him, but he didn't spare himself a moment to enjoy it. He would enjoy it on the run, for run is just what he did the moment he saw the coyote flying away from him. Penn was reasonably confident that he could've taken him, but he was not actually violent by nature. Given the choice, he was happy to pick flight over fight, as he did now.