Haunted Wood before then, mhm

all welcome! looking for an adventure..
attn: @Santiago Arcos

¡oyé! famine called, voy a comerte, ya? unfortunately, the birdsong didn't stop, but continued ringing almost louder than before. what was this guy's problem?

famine walked from the den to the base of a nearby tree and began growling at the winged inhabitants above. ¡cállate, por favor! his growling turned to whining, and famine fell onto his back.

what did a guy have to do to get some sleep around here!?

The monochromatic wolf has been lying about the grotto when his ears shift due to the sound of a noisy little pup complaining about the local wildlife. Getting up he saunters over the corner of a rock just enough to see him. Calling in Spanish up to a bird in a tree for it to shut up. His express is laughable as he shakes his head at the little rugrat comically.

Santi’s paws force him onward and he now stands over the grey pup. Looking down upon him he chuckles. “Bird annoying you, pequeño?”

santiago emerged from the bushes with his usual mysterious swagger. famine opened an eye to look at him, then closed it, and when he opened his eyes again, the elder wolf was standing directly overhead. 

he sighed, whining: oh, man. between the twins and the outside, there wasn't one quiet place for him to rest! i'm super tired, santi. and the stupid bird.. he won't shut up!

The giant wolf chuckles at the irritation lining the younger’s voice. Then he looks up to follow his gaze into the tree line. Seeing a few of the animals guilty by keeping the pup awake.

Looking back down to Famine he laughs lowly with a torturous smile on his face. “Then get up, let’s go kill ‘em.” He says the fucked up words easily. “While probably not those specific ones cause they high as fuck up in that tree, but other ones.” He chuckles nudging the downed pup with a wet leathery nose. “Arriba vas.”

santiago instructed famine to rise, which he did, but not without reluctance. do you think, the child began, que los aves can understand us? did they know their plan to go bird hunting? it didn't feel right, being so vulgar right in front of them if they could understand.

well, whatever. wolves weren't allowed to think like that here. can we go somewhere cool to hunt? famine pleaded. he was tired of seeing the same things over and over.. and over again.

After nudged the pup eventually comes to his paws. Though shortly after the most interesting question comes to surface. At this the monochromatic wolf tilts his head in thought and takes a second to look up at the tree. Some food for though definitely. For a moment Santiago remembers when he participated in the ring. He was forced to fight all different types of animals. He understood them when they pleaded for their life. So yes, he believes that the birds can understand them, or at least certain concepts. 

His gaze comes back to the younger in front of him. “Si, I bet they can.” Is all he gives him, a mysterious, yet playful glint in his eyes.

“De todos modos.” Santi chuckles, nudging the pup with a large paw. Then his smirk grows. “Yes, I’ll take you somewhere amazing pequeño. Or at least somewhere that looks a little different.” He says enthusiastically as he begins walking in a certain direction.

After a good while of walking, the area around them becomes less foggy and more vibrant. Bunches of wild flowers are abundant here and the evergreen trees are tall. They come to a vast meadow of red and gold wild flowers. The area known as Cardinal Grove is surely to blow the little pups mind.

cardinal grove, unlike anything famine had seen before. he walked slowly beyond where santiago stood, turning back only once to ask silent permission. a sunset of wildflowers covered the ground, and though he could only appreciate some of the color, famine knew that this was something special.

tail wagging excitedly behind him, he turned to santiago and said: this is awesome! where did this place come from? and why couldn't he have been the first one to find it? bet the birds here taste awesome, too.

The pup chirps in about how beautiful — or awesome — this place is and Santi can do little to disagree. The place is saturated in color and the early morning sun only helps it look more astonishing. Perhaps this is one of his favorite places to go in their territory. After all, he’s finds himself here a fair amount.

Now he laughs at the pups words. “You know they do.” He combats playfully. “Let’s go find us some birds, pequeño.”

They carry onwards and Santi’s eye date spots a raven. “You know it’s bad luck to kill a raven right?” He asks to the little pup to his side as he nods his chin to the bird in his sights. “Vamos a matarlo.” He chuckles with that devious look in his eyes that he carries so often.

He begins stalking towards it, waiting for the pup to do the same. “Keep your body low to the ground. Disappear into the tall grass and flowers.” He directs.

eventually, famine would grow tired of santiago's general attitude, but it was tolerable for the time being. he visibly recoiled at the remark about bad luck, hesitantly following the unspoken instructions moments later.

camouflage wasn't famine's strong suit; he was a big boy, both in height and width, especially for someone his age. still, he tried his best, slinking beside santi with his belly touching the ground.

¿y ahora?

The monochromatic wolf stalk forward only a few feet. “Now, spring into action.” Just after her says this his muscles do just that.

He’s sprinting towards the raven picking worms up from the ground. Predictably he startles it and with the worm hanging out of its black beak it attempts to fly off. As it does it gets about four feet in the air when Santi is on it. Even then it gets another two feet higher and at this the male jumps into the air. His awaiting jaws meet the birds tail feathers in midair. Though no fruit is born. The only thing Santi manages to accomplish by the time he hits the ground again is to pull out a few tail feathers.

Brows furrowed he looks to Famine, spitting the feathers out of his mouth then watching the bird go to land off in the meadow elsewhere.

“You’re turn, pequeño.” He says with a chuckle. “Go get ‘em, tiger.” He nods his chin to the same bird only about fifty feet away. It wildly picks at its offended butt where Santi has ripped its feathers from.

famine tried to stutter some reply — wh-.. how.. — but it was clear that there wouldn't be any escaping this lesson. he watched the bird fly higher, then come back down, its dark silhouette still visible within the sea of red.

the child rolled his eyes and sneered, being careful to avoid getting caught (if he could help it). stalking forward, famine stopped a few feet behind where the bird sat and look to santiago for final reassurance.

you sure about this? his expression might have asked, but famine was leaping for the blackbird before santi would've been able to respond. his oversized paws were the first part of him to move, one landing on the bird's leg and the other on it's neck. 

feeling its movement beneath him was more unsettling than famine had expected, so he moved and allowed its escape before being able to make the final blow. he had mere seconds to react; rather than turning back, he leapt into the air after their prey.

your choice if he gets it or not. :)

Santiago chuckles at the stutters that come from the rather big pups mouth. He knows thrusting the boy into a situation he has no idea what’s going on could (or could not) be a good way to teach him. It gives the pup time to react naturally.

So as he looks to Santi for reassurance he nods enthusiastically but even then it seems Famine is already sprinting into action just as the older male told him to.

First the boys impressive paws pin the bird down swiftly. Next thing he knows he’s jumping into the air and catching the bird in his mouth. If Santi could clap he would. The pup successfully bagged the bird they’ve been hunting. 

So he begins sauntering over. “Impressive.” He hums with a quick nudge of his paw to the pups shoulder. Then Santi’s eyes drift to another bird only about thirty feet ahead of them. And the mysterious gaze he usually has appears once more. “Another?”

i did it! he exclaimed through clenched teeth. birds near enough to be disturbed could be heard cawing as they flew away, but famine couldn't be bothered to care. he dropped the bird to ask santi, did you see me? i caught the bird, santi!

but then they were talking about doing this over again, and his mood went back down. you get that one, famine frowned, hunting sucks. besides, his bad leg was starting to ache which told him that it was time to quit.

Santi laughs at the others want for approval and of course he gives him it. “¡Si, Si!” He booms with a wide smile. “Muy bien, pequeño.” He gestures to the bird he just dropped. “You get to carry that one. I’ll go get my own.” He hums and he’s already off.

Stalking through the flowers that contrast so brightly against the stark black and white of his pelt. He has another bird in his sights. Then he shoots into action and this time he’s able to catch it before it can even hit the air. A massive paw slapped it down into the ground and that alone probably broke enough of its bone to where it is unable to fly.

He brings the bird into his mouth and crunches down expertly. In no matter of time, he’s trotting back Famine. “Shall we?” He asks the pup voice muffled due to the bird in his maw, referencing them heading back to the grotto. “You did good.” He compliments one more time for reassurance.

famine looked at santiago, then back down to his bird to start plucking its feathers away like he'd seen the others do. more praises came, and he realized that he hadn't actually thanked their giver yet — thanks, he muttered, voice low and contemplative, can we stay here for a while?

there was a mutual silence between them, held by the eery silence in the canopy. famine waited impatiently for something else to happen, to distract him, while digging into the tender breast.

At the others request Santi plants his haunches onto the ground and begins plucking the feathers off his bird as well. “Sounds good to me, chico.”

Then as about a minute of comforting silence goes of them both plucking their birds, Santi flops down onto his side and grabs the bird with his front paws, holding it steady as he starts crunching into it.

His ghostly eyes look to the pup in front of him. “So since I thought you should know just as much as anyone.” He starts. “There been a growing tension between Ursus and the Nightwalkers.” At that, he goes off to inform the pup of everything they’ve faced so far. He even updates him of the other missing pup. Finishing up, Santi looks to him after all that can be explained is explained.