Fishblight Mire Reptile

Someone from Ursus maybe?

"You're full of shit."

Accusations flew with abandon. Many unfounded -- most correct. She had been right, Nails supposed. Right about everything. After pretending for so long it was hard to tell when the lies ended and truth began. It was such a shame too. He'd had so much fun. Their kindness, their acceptence, their love, he lapped it all up like a suckling leech. However, it was a matter of time before his gracious host grew wise to a fattening parasite.

Perhaps he'd flown off the handle. Emotion was a fickle thing after all, often rearing at times most inopportune. How could he ignore something that cut so deep? How could he not coil like the snake he was? She hurt him. She dared hurt him. In time the pain did fade, but it didn't matter now. To second guess his actions now would be to waste valuable time.

Her entrails had been beautiful. 

He fled north, knowing no one would follow. In the chaos, her pack would collapse. He'd seen it happen before. It was a terrible shame, Nails thought, that he could not stick around and admire the fallout of his artistry. 

When he came upon the bog, he knew there was no other option than to press forward and cross it. The smell was horrid, enough to make his stomach curl. Paws sank into the fetted rot as he began to trudge through the foul pool. Mud, cool to the touch and rich with detritus, held tight to his long and spindly limbs.

<3!!! hi!

the boy dragged himself from ursus and into the tumbling lands beyond. he longed for — he did not know, and trudged until a a fetid scent filled his nostrils. merrick, the vulture; merrick, the carrionbird; he followed the freek of it until he came to a mire. 
bloated with mud and the thawed carcasses of fleshy things that had died beneath the ice, the swamp was a long swathe of tangled trees and rotted dark places that reminded merrick of ripped holes in yielding skin, muscle sliding back to reveal a bloodied knob of shattered bone.
his eye blinked, pulling at the healing edges of the wounds fetched by the raven. his single cyclops orb, encircled by fresh toothmarks that finally tore and began to ooze again.
merrick sucked in his breath, turning the glut of his stinging eye toward the lop-eared figure coursing slowly through the muck like a furred crocodile. "you insane or something?" the boy called conversationally, padding along the bank with a curiosity sparkling through him.

EBONY, it been TOO DAMN LONG

Down Nails sank into the mire, deeper still until the ugly murk kissed the crest of his hunger-hollowed chest. Across the blighted surface, he slithered like a snake. Closing his eyes and breathing deep, he gladly welcomed the pungent scent of the bog. All things had their purpose -- and so too did this. Here his trail would end. Here his trail would die. In a way, it felt as if he were shedding his uncomfortable mask and being made new.

Reborn unto the swamp. A leach in his natural habitat.

He'd hardly noticed the stranger's approach. His voice cut through the silence and Nails stopped. They Eyjolfur's eyes opened into reptiallian slits as he regarded him with an air of cautious scrutinay. He didn't recognize him as one of her's. He didn't recognize him at all. He was certainly an ugly fucker, he thought, catching a glimpse at his empty eye socket and torn ear.

Nails chuckled to himself. "Maybe," he mused. He was jovial; good natured. "Depends on who you ask." Lips pulled back revealing a roguish grin. "Certainly been called worse things," he went on before submerging himself completely in the murk to fully mask his scent.

When he emerged he was covered from toe to tip as mud sloughed off of his body.

IKR im so glad u have returned <3

grinchy and smirklike, merrick's mouth curled into a baretooth grin. "what if i said you smelled like shit?" he suggested conversationally, though he refused to touch the mud. twistface and all, he retained a healthy lot of vanity, and brown slime certainly wouldn't do for him.
blood, however.
he scanned the other silently, not bothering to hide the intrigued firelight that lit the edge of his one eye. lanky, small like himself, though perhaps without the minute slimness of merrick's own muzzle. a nod to tadec and the coyote genes he had introduced to this branch of the clan. 
delicately he came to the end of the bank and sat down to stare at the viscous sludge sliding in sickening swathes off the oddman's figure. merrick enjoyed being entertained.

Ursus looks mighty spicy! When I saw it was you and Lauren leading it, I knew I had to get close to this action somehow, some way. XD

A child of vanity, Nails was not. Being the runt of his liter and with siblings as brutish as his, vanity had little hold over him. How could it when survival often took precedent in his mind? He was a creature without shame. Born of the earth, of instinct, he was unencumbered by such unnessary trappings of civility.  

After having exhausted the usefulness of the bog, Nails moved slowly toward the bank. "Ha," he chuffed aloud. He cut his eyes sharply at the stranger. though as he emerged from the muck, the curious wag of his tail was revealed. He was young and lanky -- an odd, sharp looking thing. "I'd probably say you're right." Nails wasn't quite sure what to think of this one yet.

He shook what he could from his pelt when his paws met solid ground, casting gobs of mud all around him. A beat followed before he began to laugh. "Or, I'd say you look like shit," he wheezed. "But -- it ain't like we're keeping score or anything." After all, it was only hypothetical.

that's such an honor omgggg :D

merrick chortled, side-stepping the soft plops of swamp dirt that cascaded from the man's body. for a moment it was as if he were the wolf and this stranger some hidden beast that had come up from the mire.
"i traded my eye for better things. haven't missed it yet," merrick purled, nostrils by now accustomed to the fetid stench of both the bog and his companion. a flag of his own plume, the inquisitive glancing once more.
"have you got a name?" the young madman asked softly. this one; he was not sure he had met such an interesting character in his recent forays. single eye glinted with some wordless kin to invitation.

Amused, Nails loosed a chuff half way between a chortle and a sneer. "Better things, huh?" Brows raised, Nails couldn't deny a loose sense of curiosity. It wasn't often that a stranger captured his attention, but he was a sucker for a well told yarn. "Go on then, spill." Surely, whatever he bought with his own body and blood had value, be it terratory, a woman, a pack. He wanted to dig, to root around until he found a suitable place in which he could sink his little leach teeth.

He would have to settle eventually, better it be with one he found entertaining.

When the stranger sought his name, Nails smirked. "A few," he answered, turning his gaze away toward the bog. He'd been called many names -- Nails, Flynn, Arnette -- so many that it was often hard to keep them straight. "Call me Nails," he said then and he turned his gaze back to the stranger. There was no harm he supposed using his birth name. His brothers had scattered, his family far, far away.

"merrick," came the mad boy's rejoinder. nails looked the part: a toughened man with a glitter in his gaze that the bearwolf found alluring in formidable ways. "a valley of my own. wolves to follow. children." his torn brow arched, smoothed. "not a bad trade for one fuckin' eye." earned in blood, it was merrick's birthright, first handed to him by indra, then claimed by his own might. no matter what the next moment held for him, the sprawling wild place would forever be his.
the mention of a few names brought to mind joaquin, and the role that ashen man had offered. "you a spy?" merrick purled, a sentence that woul have been paranoid if it were not for his focused intrigue upon this brutish nails.

I'm so so so sorry for the wait! We can probs move this toward joining if y'all have room in Ursus!

He snorted, a derisive sound that cut through whatever tension may have lingered. A spy? It was a preposterous thought -- though, perhaps the cyclopian wolf had made himself some enemies. That didn't seem far too unlikely, given the rough state of him. It was certainly something to think about, or a chink in the armor to eventually exploit. He didn't dwell long, and instead, Nails only shook his head.

"Would I tell you if I were?" He asked then, posing yet another hypothetical. His tone remained light and full of jest. It was a game. One he found intriguing. 

"So Cyclops --," Nails went on after a brief pause, "is this leading somewhere? You going to take me back to the ol' homestead and give me the grand tour?" Unburdened by social restraint, there was a lackadaisical air to Nails. He plopped back to his rump and began to scratch behind his floppy, doggish ear.

"Or, are you gonna make me ask?"

ofc!

a question to deflect. a nickname. merrick watched nails itch himself with an open curiosity at the other's casual movements. "yes," he finally muttered after a breath, gathering himself up to back playfully toward the woods. "call me cyclops and i'll give you entry to my kingdom."
one might call him dramatic, but it was a royal place, was it not? merrick prized every inch of ursus, and all those yet unexplored. he expected the same from those who followed him.
where might nails fall upon that scale?

Kingdom. Well, somebody certainly thought highly of himself. Nails swallowed the inkling of derision before it could be outwardly expressed. Instead, he merely smiled. His hindpaw stilled, but still lingered behind his flopping ear. "That's all it takes?" he asked then with a quizzical quirk of his brow. What a strange man. "You got yourself a deal one-eye." 

He lifted himself back up and spoke after a beat. "Well, lets get out of this shit-hole then. Lemme see this here Kingdom." If they prospered as much as the stranger had made it sound, Nails figured it would make a comfortable home. Already, he was planning on sinking his little leech teeth into the soft underbelly of his next gracious host.

i shall start us a new one at US!

merrick grinned, a feral, humourless thing. "all right then."
he led the ruddy reeking nails across the valley of the rising sun, to the red-dirt path that was the singular entrance into his beautiful valley. across the strongly patrolled borders he paced, tail raising in salute to the wolves of ursus he saw. 
merrick was so very prideful, but ursus would speak for itself.