Ravensblood Forest and iron filling her lungs

for @Nemisis

the early tresses of morning was cloudy when praimfaya slipped out of sagtannet to do a bit of exploring; and remains so even as she knows the sun rises and the shadows of night are chased away. she finds herself wandering to the coast without much reason for it but content to let her paws pick her path regardless. a sweep of frostbound gaze is given to taken in the ravensblood; the call of the namesake birds perched upon the branches, the red sap that the trees were excreting. she pauses to sniff at it, noting that beneath the tang of the trees it smells sweet. reigning in her worst temptation to try the sap she pushes forward into the heart of the forest; cautious as ever.

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127 words

With herself and Donovan now working together, They had begun mapping out the territory, getting plans underway. Nemisis was just putting the finishing touches on the garbage pile- it wouldn't do to have carcasses and dead wolves and scat strewn about- when she noticed the presence of another. At first she thought it was a recruit. But a quick movement downwind indicated this particular shewolf already has a home. 
she slipped through the trees, using the shadows and her own coloration to appear beside the girl like a phantom. 
"Excuse me, dear. But I believe you failed to notice... you're trespassing." the last words come out flat, a warning note.

it doesn't take long until a figure appears from the shadows; as if they gave birth to her. praimfaya watches as she moves with decisive purpose. frostbound gaze assess her neutrally, black leathery nostrils scenting at the air. a scent — notedly familiar — clings to her coat but there is no myriad of scents upon her pelage nor the loamy soil of the forest of the bleeding trees that gives praimfaya cause to believe the woman. trespassing? how can i trespass when there is no pack here? praimfaya inquires, gesturing to the forest with her muzzle. i scented no borders or i wouldn't be here. she speaks with the firm, diplomatic tones of wanheda but suspects that the woman, whom has so brazenly accused her of trespassing, was not of the diplomatic sort; an assumption based solely upon their minute of interaction.

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142 words

She's curls her lips threateningly, moving in front of the shewolf to block her passage. 
"Tell me something, darling. Are you blind? Or simply dull? Because my...partner and I ran the borders this morning. If I say there's a border there, there's a border. And if I warn you that you are tresspassing, I have no reason to lie. Now final warning. Move. Off."  There may not be any established pack there, but Donovan and herself had claimed this as Saints land. And until they had more members it was up to her to decide who came and went through the forming territory.

i am neither, praimfaya responds with a curtness that is pointed and sharp. stop calling me darling. her mouth twists the word with firm warning as if the word tastes bad, her shoulders tensing as she refuses to be cowed by the woman. two of you are not enough to hold this territory. you can say whatever you'd like. i am wanheda but does that mean anything to you? praimfaya asks in a tone that clearly suggested she doubted it. i seek no fight, aulana. the trigedasleng slips from between her teeth with ease; channeling her mother's 'salty bitch' persona with an ease that should be startling. but i won't back down, either. praimfaya states simply. just as the woman felt she has the right to consider the ravensblood her's despite it only being the two of them as she's so readily stated, praimfaya has a right to pass thru territory that is still, by all rights, neutral.

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158 words

Roll here https://wolf-rpg.com/showthread.php?tid=42030

The stubborn shewolf was not backing down, and Nemisis was quickly beginning to lose her patience. Nonsense language she had no intention of learning slipped between the rival Queen's lips and Nemisis rolled her eyes. 
"A nonsense title that holds no merrit here. If you refuse to see it my way and go peacefully, then you can leave by force. Or die here. Your choice." 
wordlessly she moved forward, aiming to tackle the shewolf, and although she failed to completely knock her off her paws, was able to unbalance her enough to sink her teeth deeply into the point where her shoulder met her neck. She snarled savagely, dropping her body as counterweight and to make her harder for the other shewolf to reach. 
First blood was always an honor, although after matching Donovan she knew it doesn't necessarily mean a victory.

there is no need for further words. the threat of death does not sit well with praimfaya, though she is torn between being largely amused and annoyed. while the two emotions war within her, she readies herself; itching to feel the thrill of the battle. it was a stupid thing to fight over but she wasn't going to be bullied by a woman who thought she and one other were enough to hold any claim. the redistribution of her weight was enough to keep the woman from bowling her over when their bodies collided. the place of contact smarts but is quickly overshadowed by the sting of the woman's teeth breaking the skin of her right shoulder. good, she thinks. she hopes it scars. maybe she can start another collection on her right shoulder.

the other woman's proximity and focus upon her shoulder gives praimfaya an opportunity and the wanheda seizes it greedily, teeth finding purchase in the side of the woman's neck, close to her own shoulder.

The pain of the other shewolves teeth on her neck light a fury in her and she snarls, tearing herself out of the the other's grip. Flesh and fur come free as blood splashes the ground- Nemisis made a grave underestimation in how good the other's hold had been, and had damaged herself. 
shaking it off she snapped forward again, teeth closing on the soft throat right under the shewolves jaw. She shakes violently, feeling blood pour from the wound and down her waiting throat. 
She will end this fight with the tresspasser submitting or dead...then again perhaps she might let her live enough to warn others about the threat that now dwelled here.

the feel of the woman's teeth at her throat does not draw fear from the wanheda. only a fierce fire that would consume her and everything in this forest as it built like the pressure in a volcano. she was draconian and she would not die here. she was the commander of death. though her attempts to wrestle free were in vain, the low throb of pain in her shoulder, in her throat brought her into focus. think. think. she kicks out at the woman with her front paws, lacking the power in her hind legs but hit all the same until the woman is forced to release her and praimfaya recoils, eager to put distance between them though suspects the woman would be quick to fill the gap.

The wound on her neck was taxing, bleeding heavily. It left her anxious and frankly, pissed off. She hated scars, hated her pelt being dirty, hated this disobedient little shit in front of her that refused to fucking die. She was BLOODBOURNE, damnit! As the shewolf knocked the air from her chest she gasped, splay legged and wheezing as the shewolf skittered away. "Coward. Sneaky little bitch." She snarled, finding her breath and moving her paws forward again in a slow march. "I'm going to make sure the next time you come through here you remember me. I'm going to fuck up that pretty little face. " She hissed, before lunging forward again, jaws closing on the shewolf's face, daggers stabbing at anything she could tear at. She hoped to cost the bitch an eye, or at least tear off her lip. She would not be walking out of these woods unscathed.

Donovan revels in the light basking through the areas of the canopy above that allow it to come through. As of right now, his black tongue laps up the water from a shallow, flowing stream. His upper body cranes down as he looks about. All of a sudden his ears cup towards the sounds of vicious growls and yells. Instantly his head is shooting up and he looks in the direction it comes from. Who’d even be fighting near here? He wonders vaguely.

Anyhow he moves himself into overdrive and his muscles shift beneath his pelt as he speeds towards the noise. When he is in sight of the two females positively going at it he furrows his brows. One is obviously Nemisis and the other one of pale and shining silvers. He recognizes her and instantly he’s running to them. Stopping just before the venomous form of Nemisis, chest and body facing the chocolate female. He glances back to Praimfaya then down once more. He isn’t quick enough to grab her before she goes in for another attack.

“She is an acquaintance to me. Do not attack any more, Nemisis.” He says sternly, form tall and demanding respect from the hurting female.

praimfaya's exit.

the woman comes at her again, splicing flesh of her muzzle, 'round her eye; spitting words of venom at wanheda. praimfaya, squinting eye against the pain: of split flesh and blood irritating her eye, prepares to counter with another attack determined to win this fight out of pride ...out of the urge to put this annoying woman into her place. before praimfaya can follow thru with her attack another form comes crashing into the arena. she recognizes him belatedly and uses his sudden and commanding appearance as her distraction. how many times has she spoken that winning a fight wasn't everything? that knowing when to walk away was the best option? though it smarts at her pride her very real and physical wounds smart more.

she takes her leave, turning her back to the spitting words of cowardice to go around the ravensblood. if she was a coward then so be it ...better a coward and smart then drowning in pride and dying for a piece of land that doesn't belong to her.

She was so close to a killing blow. And just as she was about to rip the pretty bitch's face off, Donovan intercepted.
she snarled and whipped around, a fury in her gaze. 
"She was trespassing. I made sure it wouldn't happen again." 

Donovan stands tall and confident as she sets her venomous glare on him. His brows are furrowed and his expression is stern. For a moment he braces himself to ready for her attack, thinking that she might set her fangs on him next.

“Call me before you make such a decision. I will do the same for you.” He says, not daring to get any closer to the hyped up she-wolf. “I met her on the coast. What if she were interested in joining our ranks? What then, Nemisis?” He asks with a tilt of his head. At this point he wouldn’t be surprised if she were to take out her frustration on him.

Her shoulder aches- the wound she received is nasty. It's also in a spot difficult to heal alone. 
inhaling deeply she attempts to calm herself, locking forest green eyes onto his. "She already carried a pack-scent. And seeing as she behaved like there was no pack here, I highly doubt she was interested in joining." She answered primly. "At least we have a reputation now." 

To his surprise, she calms rather quickly. He’s impressed by her lowering temperature and perhaps her quirk of of being quick to attack is something he can’t quite yell at her for. She makes valid point though he mainly used the joining part as an example. Though Praimfaya did smell heavily of pack wolves, still the silver woman has done no wrong in his eyes...yet anyway.

So he too sighs and begins a steady walk closer. “Yes, I agree.” He submits for now. His partner is hurt and therefore she is also his responsibility to fix. “Come. Let’s wash off your wounds then.” He says almost softly. “So how the hell did all this start?“

She is mildly surprised when not only does he Relent, he agrees with her. 
were she a softer shewolf she would have done something like smile, or wag her tail, or something else similarly sappy. 
Instead she inclined her head, giving a hum of acknowledgement. 
His next words catch her off guard, and she blinks, not comprehending the softness in his voice. She had never had someone care for her. Never had someone speak gently. For a moment she wants to lash out, to push him away. She certainly has no interest in reciprocation- does she? 
She shakes the thought out of her head and nods, agreeing to follow him. 
"Caught her walking through the place like she owned it. I asked her to move around and she refused- called herself a...wahn-something-or-other. so I defended our territory." She preened, proud of herself. "I even drew first blood. Would have killed her if she hadn't kicked me." 

He doesn’t notice too much when his voice becomes soft. Sometimes it just happens, though as the female nods curtly to him he isn’t surprised that’s all she gives him. The male isn’t sure what else he wants from her, a thank you or something. Truthfully, he couldn’t care less if she thanked him. She’s still his partner and therefore will put his life into he life for her.

So he hums back in acknowledgment at her description of the situation. Though at her poor imitation of the word the silvery warrior used he chuckles and glances at her as they walk. “I see. Well next time, call me yeah?” He says lowly with an exhale of breath through his nose. “You’re not bad, but you can’t let anger cloud your thoughts. Maybe we can train sometime again when you’re not so fucked up.” He offers the spar on a later date. He feels like she’s done enough fighting for one day.

As they walk they finally come across a shallow stream.

She huffs, moving to follow him to the water source. 
"I'm not used to this. Its rediculus, having no status here. My whole life other wolves feared me and my family, and.." her ears pinned in frustration. 
"I didn't realize how hard it would be." She rolled her eyes. These other wolves were below her. She was a Bloodbourne, damnit. She made her way to the stream and settled down into it, her wound staining the water red. "It's pathetic." She groused.

She huffs, moving to follow him to the water source. 
"I'm not used to this. Its rediculus, having no status here. My whole life other wolves feared me and my family, and.." her ears pinned in frustration. 
"I didn't realize how hard it would be." She rolled her eyes. These other wolves were below her. She was a Bloodbourne, damnit. She made her way to the stream and settled down into it, her wound staining the water red. "It's pathetic." She groused. The water stung, and she clenched her teeth. "How did you end up alone?" 

As they reach the water the female beside him is positively seething. He stays silent, allowing her to vent to him. Little does she know he completely relates. A life of being a leader, being at the top, and then for it to suddenly crash down on top of you. Though the fam of his reign is more emotional then hers it seems. His whole pack was slaughtered, while what happened to her is custom where she comes from. Anyhow, he shakes his head as she speaks to him, agreeing with her words. 

When she lies down enough to get water onto the wound he cranes his head down and noses the water onto it. His ears tilted towards her continuously listening. Golden eyes shift to gaze at her as she asks the one hundred dollar question. He lists his head and chuckles bitterly.

“It’s a long story.” He hums. “So long story short, someone betrayed our pack. Blew the whistle on us and I got to watch my whole pack get slaughtered by humans.” He continues gazing down to her. “I lead that pack for a good amount of time. Inherited it from my father.”

Her eyes go wide when he stoops to nose the water over her wound. 
"Don't." She presses softly, pushing him away. "Servants do that. You aren't my servant. You're my equal. Until we have servants, I can nurse my own wounds, as much as I hate it." Theres none of the usual prissiness in her voice. A bit of coldness but at this point it's just part of her normal tone. She stubbornly shifts away, rolling onto her side and resting her head on the bank to avoid drowning. Small fish in the shallows nibbled at her torn flesh, to help it heal faster. 
He explained his plight, and she frowned. She thankfully hadn't much experience with humans, other than the one member of her pack who showed up with a strange tag on his ear and a story of being abducted. They had killed him to avoid being found, and for being weak enough to be captured. They sounded evil. "We will find these humans someday. And we will slaughter every last one. And leave their carcasses for the coyotes." It was an akward attempt at comfort and solidarity.

A quizzical expression overrules his face. Servants huh? He hums to himself. There goes his attempt at being helpful and nice at the same to time to the picky she-wolf. Though he appreciates that she isn’t snappy towards him she still has that certain tone of privilege that she always seems to carry. Not to ignore the fact that she called them equals. This makes his confused expression curl into an easy smile. At least she realizes that, and that too he appreciates.

Then as he explains to her she offers him the promise of death to the ones that did the same to his family. At this he scoffs at her. “There is no way to beat them.” He says bitterly. “They don’t use teeth, brute strength, or even stealth. They use something else entirely. Fire and smoke, loud noises and so many other things I don’t understand.” He sighs and his face becomes comical. “Some of that wild shit I’ve never seen in my entire life.” 

Wat were these beings? Gods? 
no. She didn't believe in ghosts, or demons, or gods, or any other superstitious nonsense. Sure, she had her vampirism, but that was a Belief not in any divine origin, but the sanctity of the body, and the strength of the pack. 
"Nonsense... Everything has a weakness. Everything can be killed. If it can bleed, it can die." She answered, her tone harsh. There was no such thing as an unbeatable enemy, just one requiring more skill. "You Will get your chance to kill them." 
She shifted uncomfortably in the water and looked up at him. "Before I Ask you to do this thing for me, I must tell you the significance of what I ask. In my family...a successful warrior would allow their mate to lap at their wound. Their apprentice, if they had any, their children, and lastly their Alpha. Blood is sacred in my family. Flesh, also. We used blood to bind to each other, Ate our fallen, and blood spilt in battle was an honor. If...If I asked you to taste my wound... would you know what that meant?" She gazed up at him, emerald eyes intense.

At her request he’s shifts away from her wound and nods once to her encouraging words of killing more humans. True, he’s sure it could be possible, yet with what he saw, he doesn’t have much confidence in their success.

Then juniper eyes come to gaze up to his with a certain vulnerable seriousness to them he hasn’t seen in his partner in crime since he’s been with her. It concerns him for a moment before he listens to her and explains to him the task in which she hesitantly asks of him to fulfill. Who is he to deny such a request? Though due to the genuine undertone of her silky voice he forces himself to keep his suggestive eyes and smirk at bay and regard her with his own respective seriousness.

“If you request such an important task of me, dear. I would.” He says lowly, gold meeting her own pine hues.