Wapun Meadow is it far away, in the glitter freeze?

@Draper

careful as the ursine wolves were to make it plain wapun was an auxiliary territory to ursus, it did not stop the sundry scents which laid over the plains carelessly and brazenly.

astara followed one such scent in a dark mood: she'd seen and killed her fair share of coyotes, and as the huntress stalked it was evident she had no ambition but to see this one dispatched, too.

In contrast to his dark stalker, Draper had yet to kill a wolf. Why was it, then, that they always seemed to want to kill him? At this point, the question didn't matter anymore. It hadn't mattered for a long time. Most wolves wanted to murder him, and the few who didn't were cautious around him. Poor guy was just misunderstood.

So here he was, minding his own business, when the wind shifted direction and Draper caught a whiff of wolf musk.

Shit, here we go again, he muttered to himself.

Draper stopped and turned to face the dark canine cousin, noting the abundance of scars. That wasn't a good sign.

it was always more fun, when the hunted knew a predator was near.

astara paused and allowed draper his chance to meet his maker: she stood proud as a dark lioness, eyes honed to wicked points.

rather than outright attack, she began to skulk about him in a hyenid slouch. studying, prying, looking for any sign of weakness, any favored leg, or lack of peripheral vision that would give her any advantage.

With literally no provocation, she stalked him, and Draper knew this game well enough to know that neither of them were going to come out of it completely unscathed.

"Great," he thought.

If there was any weakness he had, she would be sure to find it. As seasoned as he was, he knew that he was not an exceptional fighter. The only reason his heart still beat was because he was fairly good at running before his opponents crushed his throat. Her stance told him that she wasn't interested in letting him run. Standing his ground until she was "done" with him was the best option here, so Draper did just that.

As she circled, Draper pivoted to watch her, facing her as she moved around him like a horse on a lunge line.

as skilled as astara believed herself to be, she would be unlikely to catch draper if he ran. as it was, he stood still -- pivoting his head to hers as she circled around him.

this was unusual for a coyote -- astara had only ever known them to flee. her ears pressed forward assertively and a crinkle appeared along her snout - a silent snarl aimed as one last warning before she closed in.

NaWo is making words not make sense anymore.

He really wouldn't ever understand what it was they had against him. It wasn't like they were going to stop and take the time to explain why they hated his guts. He hadn't stolen their food, although he was glad to clean up the scraps they left behind. Maybe the other members of his species were a bigger bag of dicks than he realized. All the more reason to distance himself from them.

She snarled, and Draper narrowed his eyes on her. He was ready. Not for his end, but for her to make a move so he could find his out.

makes perfect sense to me!!

draper's impression of astara was not entirely off mark: she was, in a lot of ways, a giant dick.

he remained steadfast under the only warning astara would be generous enough to give.

fair enough.

the blackbird moved like a serpent, lunging for the coyote straight on. she had no fear or compulsion about contact with his teeth: her aim was to bite, slash, and grab whatever she could reach.

When she sprang, Draper was as ready for it as he could have been. The weight of her—which by virtue of her species was a great deal more—flung into him, and Draper did whatever he could to defend himself. Being the first to attack had never been his style, so at least he had plenty of experience playing the other side. Something told him that she had plenty of experience being the first one to strike.

He felt teeth slash through his fur and skin, and he too sought to grab purchase on whatever part of her he could. An ear, a shoulder, a paw, maybe the giant stick up her ass?

in their collision there was a brief moment of clarity, followed then by the brutal slam of astara’s body hitting the ground.

in her excitement she had misread both the footing and draper’s forceful push of teeth against her shoulder: there in the dirt she snarled as Draper stood over her —

she refused to be cowed by a beast of lesser blood. with a snarl astara gathered to her feet with a lunge — but draper had plenty of time to either avoid her, or counter her.

Last from me!

Something had given Draper an advantage. Maybe he had been quicker. Maybe she hadn't had enough to eat today. Maybe he was just at the top of his game. Maybe, for once, he'd just gotten really lucky. Even though he would come away with a few puncture wounds, bruises, and plenty of aches, he would survive. He stood over her for a brief moment, his lips curled back in a snarl, his golden eyes looking more sharp than usual.

When she stirred beneath him, Draper saw his out and he took it. As quickly as he could, the coyote scampered as far away from the crazy stick-up-her-butt bitch as he could. He was smaller, lighter, and (probably?) more motivated to get away than she was to catch him.

By the time he was safely out of her reach, Draper was panting, hacking, and generally exhausted. He slowed his gait to a trot, shaking his coat out. A quick glance over his shoulder assured him that she was no longer a threat.

Another day, another crisis averted.

thank you <3

draper slipped from her like a greased pig. incensed as astara was, there was no hope to seize the gap he'd neatly laid between them.

astara slowed, panting, as draper's form darted away.

he'd managed to escape, but she would not forget his face. should he ever reappear, astara would not let him leave her a second time.

columns of thick smoke rose from her panting nostrils as she made for bearclaw. one less coyote in wapun was a blessing -- astara would never tire of keeping the borders of her home well-guarded.