Ouroboros Spine Are you a loan? 'Cause you've got my interest

Like he had in the previous pack, Zane settled quickly into a pattern of relative ease.  He hunted, occasionally he could be bothered to patrol, but for the most part, he wandered.  

He still wasn't sure about this mountain, though it was decidedly less intense feeling than the one Legion had settled before his departure.  Today he finally pressed upwards.

As he approached the lip of one of the upper reaches, he stopped.  Alright, Zane, you got this.  It's just a little drop, yeah?  Not like you'd be dumb enough to fall off.  It's all good.  Still, the dude's tail was definitely slung low as he crept forward and peered out.

Fuckthatshigh.  He backed up quickly, then exhaled.  Shittttt what were these wolves, fucking birds?

Raimo spotted the man from before. He prowled after him, as was his way. The path they followed came to a terminus point—a ledge that would carry you down the mountain if you did not know better. He watched, wondering what to make of the other man for a moment. There was a chance he could rid himself of the bothersome presence with a nudge, but the thought came and went.

He emerged from the blackpine and watched as the older man slunk back from the edge, listening to the fear lacing his voice. It amused Raimo immensely; but he said nothing about that. Instead, as he drew up close behind him he said, Enjoying the view?

Hoshi...  Zane jerked violently backwards when Raimo materialized out of nowhere behind him and broke in with a quip.  Har har.  If the fall didn't kill him, the fucking heart attack might.  Holy shit, he had to get better about paying attention.  Or attach birds or some shit to anyone who moved too quiet.

Obviously.  Peace of it's kinda ruined now, though.  He definitely hadn't been enjoying it, a fact that was plain, but that didn't mean he was above lying outright about it.  Mountain like this, plenty of good views to go around, eh?  In other words, maybe find your own?  He wasn't exactly willing to say it outright... yet.  He and this dude had gotten off on the wrong paw entirely (not in any way his fault, or so he'd insist), but they were kind of packmates now.  He could be an asshole later, once the pack was in a slightly better spot.

When Zane startled, Raimo was pleased. He hid the flood of amusement well; it hadn't been his intention to scare the other wolf but he wasn't going to apologize. The way the man bantered at him reminded Raimo of young unproven boys — but this man was at least twice his own age, creating a slight disconnect.

Aye, but it is not views I am after. Raimo responded. So far the man had kept away from him, and the shadow presumed it was to do his duty. Hunting, patrolling, doing menial tasks for the injured Kukutux; aspects of pack life to show his worth and prove he belonged.

It wasn't a turn of events Raimo was pleased about, however he would not drive the man away. There was no reason to remove a positive influence when they needed the bodies. There are grouse trails in the lower hills. I came to ask if you would join me in a hunt. It would be more than a hunt — a test. A final effort to prove Zane capable or disposable.

Shit, he really just got away with that.  The dude didn't lean into the judgement and instead completely changed the subject, a move that totally wasn't the win that Zane took it as.  Raimo was already clearly far beyond Zane's maturity despite their age difference.

The last connection Zane had had that could have been called any sort of influence was his father... and there was no doubt he was a certifiable disappointment, for all he might believe otherwise.

If he'd seen the test, he might have declined. Zane wasn't completely hopeless, though, and he knew they had a better shot hunting together.  Besides, he felt the thrill of competition in the male's presence... and he figured he could pretty easily show this guy up.  Maybe it'd wipe some of that entitlement off of his face and get the dude off his ass for a while.

Alright, sarge, I'm in.  Dude seemed like he had a stick up his ass, so the name fit, but he leaned into the inflection a bit informally.  No use givin him the impression it was a title.  Lead the way.  He'd graciously allow this guy to take point in remembering how the fuck to get down from here to the lower hills.

Raimo found himself wondering if this man had been dropped on a rock when he was born, or if some other injury had brought about his strong attitude. Perhaps it was a side-effect of being a lone wolf for too long; but Raimo discounted that thought as soon as it arrived, seeing as he had many lonely patches within his life as well. He wasn't bothered by the disingenuous way Zane acted around him and in the end, assumed it was the man feeling inferior, which stroked Raimo's own ego well enough to consider.

They departed the ridge together with Raimo in the lead. As he knew the paths well, his prowling was efficient and unforgiving; he did not give Zane much time to keep up with him and expected the other man to keep pace, whether it was stride-by-stride or by way of falling and rolling down the mountain between the trees. Raimo did not wait for him to catch up as he chose their path, winding them down among the blackpine until the trees thinned and the earth became a series of low undulations.

Honestly he might have been.  His mother hadn't realized before her sons were born that she didn't have the attention span to be a mother; she'd doted on them, left them to their own devices, and really only stepped in as a parent when it came time to discredit or temper any attempts by their father to shape them into a wolf worth having.  His brother had turned out okay.  And... well, in Zane's mind he'd turned out excellent.

Fuck, Sarge set a pace.  Normally running was the one thing Zane was decent at but this here was a mountain and who the hell ran on those? This batshit motherfucker, that's who.  He tried, but the first time he ate shit on the way down, Zane slowed up.  He was competitive to the point of discomfort but that was when he peaced out and chose indifference instead.  He had zero problems lettin Sarge here take point and kill himself on the way down - he'd be trailing behind, not slow, but enough to likely make Raimo wait a bit.

It was now that his lonesome habits became more relevant; Raimo did not notice as his hunting companion lagged behind and should he ever, the man was unlikely to wait or slow his tempo. This was all a test and he was not easily impressed, especially so when awareness finally dawned upon him that Zane was considerably more cautious than what Raimo deemed appropriate.

His first thought was that the man had turned tail; warmed by the charge down the mountain, Raimo's adrenaline spiked a little bit at the thought of being left here to hunt alone. If that was the case he would set his sights upon Zane and drive him off the mountain as promised.

Thankfully something else sprang to life as he moved along. A flurry of flapping accompanied a bulbous body flinging itself from cover. A second one veered out of the hiding place but went another direction, with both birds hoping to divert attention long enough to confuse the wolf and get to safety. They were fat but not slow — and Raimo was keen to give chase and prove his superiority many times over, to Zane and the rest of the Moonglow wolves.

He ducked beneath an awkwardly curving tree limb and plunged after one of the birds, leaving an obvious trail for whenever Zane resurfaced — if he resurfaced.

Zane resurfaced alright... winded, frazzled, and breathing heavily from a combination of factors (not the least of which, nerves).  Fucking pin me if I ever pick a mountain again, Zane muttered to no one in particular, eyeing the trail that Raimo had clearly left in his chase.  Alright, so options here... he could follow and likely arrive after the guy had already taken down a catch.  Double the humiliation.  He'd never fuckin hear the end of it.

Or he could try for a catch of his own.  A quick glance around showed two trails, another smaller one.... for some kind of bird.  Always with the birds.  Still, Zane knew that he had a shot at catchin it still if he was quick, and on flat ground again he could manage.  So he took off, tracking the creature in a completely different direction.  Fuck yeah, maybe Reemo would lose whatever the hell he was chasing and Zane would emerge the sole winner.  He grinned, letting his imagination get to his head for a minute... until a wild fluttering exploded from a nearby bush where his quarry, apparently, had rehidden itself.

I'll roll for a catch next round XD

Rolled a 6/15 which I count as a success but not a good one haha.

In to the open, then. The forest surrounded him and cast its shadow across his back as he leapt through the snow, following the bulbous bird as it ran across a small open field of white. Bits of grasses had begun to poke through the uppermost layer; Raimo plunged, reaching, snapping, grasping. The bird screamed in death and all was still thereafter.

12/20, also mediocre pfft.  which tracks.  barely scrapin by with that catch!

If there was one thing Zane had going for him outside of his many, many vices, it was that he had lived this long and survived most of it solo.  He knew his way around a hunt, and while scavenging was definitely easier, small prey was old hat for the wolf.  Sometimes he'd lose a catch here and there, but today seemed like luck was runnin alongside him.  Course it was - not like it'd find any finer company!

Zane's jaws snapped on the bird's wing as it attempted to flee the bush, snapping through bones easily and causing the animal to let out a piercing shriek.  He'd heard a similar call only a few moments before, distantly, and wondered if that was Raimo.  Likely.  Well, he'd won the race maybe, but didn't mean he was any less of an idiot for it.

Zane cut the call off with a stranglehold on the bird's neck, tightening his jaws until it no longer moved and then lifting the kill with a smile.  Eh, let him have it.  Dude had issues but Zane didn't blame a guy for chasin a piece of tail, obviously.  Actually, he wasn't even sure it was Duchess he was chasing.  Her daughter was a looker too and he'd been guarding both... maybe he should ask.  Or I could just try and snag em both myself, he thought, chuckling.  Shit, that was a lot of work though, and chicks hated that.  You had to be one smooth motherfucker (literally) to pull that off and Zane did not have the lying chops for it.  Cursed with an honest face, he was.

Still thinking on it, he set off with his kill towards where 'Sarge' likely waited, mood obviously improved with a mouth full of good food.

Raimo turned with the bird clutched in his teeth, looking as if he had sprouted a pale beard around his rugged black face in time for Zane's arrival. The other man had a bird of his own and he smelled of blood and feather-dust. Perhaps there was hope for him yet, the first hunter thought.

He dropped his bird at his paws and licked his lips to cleanse them of the taste, appearing thoughtful as he appraised his fellow wolf. You surprise me. A good catch and you are not even out of breath. I misjudged you. That was as close to a compliment as Zane was likely to get.

Wouldn't be the first, Zane responded, still as informally playful as usual, but without the nudge towards disrespect he'd had earlier. If Sarge was looking to toss him a bone, he wasn't about to shove it back in the dude's face. Nice catch. Must've been the same flock, Zane noted, from the similar feathers on both. So they'd split after the same scatter.

Got a place to toss these or are we treatin ourselves today? He was only half joking - these slopes worked up a damn appetite. But since he was feelin colloquial and Raimo seemed not to want to chomp his ass as much as usual, Zane figured he'd extend a half offer.

These are our reward for a fine hunt, he answered, tail slightly arched over his back before it began to wag, then it pendulum-ed behind him at his hocks. With his meal he would try to save the feathers at the very least; however, having worked up quite an appetite, Raimo's devouring of the meat would certainly ruin the rest of the bird.

Eat! We will hunt together again for the caches later. Because all that Raimo had really wanted out of this was some understanding of the other man, and he felt he had been rewarded with exactly that. How he moved, how he took direction, if he could work with another seamlessly - it changed some of how Raimo felt about the potential rival.

With that said, Raimo gathered up the bird he had caught between his paws and began to tear in to it; fragrant warm blood began to seep through those feathers, staining the ground as he ate and plucked.