Silvertip Mountain if this is how you folks make art it’s fucking depressing

silvertip mountain
8/4, morning
57°, mist

ursus members please! they can injure buzzard

Compared to the shit Buzzard used to pull back when their almost-as-chaotic siblings were at their side, their actions have been pretty tame for the past few months. Picking off leftover scraps, (generally) keeping their antics to themselves. You could say Buzzard was practically a model citizen.

Well Buzzard was sick of the slow and steady shit. Sure it kept the skin on their back, but what’s the fun in it? The life of a coyote’s supposed to be wild and thrilling! Their routine was neither wild or thrilling.

That’s why they found themselves at the edge of someone else’s turf. Markings were there. Any idiot could smell them, including Buzzard. They were fresh though. New neighbors, they thought. Too busy moving their stuff in to keep an eye on their fridge.

Buzzard slinked over the edge with a grin.

merrick, hackles stippled; merrick, stalking around every side of the mountain until his legs ached so greatly that sleep evaded him; merrick, limning himself with a year's knowledge of mountains in as little time as possible.
and always —death follows — hunting every step, until he happened upon a stranger not his own, the scent of him.
the bearwolf dropped low, prowling carefully toward the interloper but keeping himself shadowed, hidden, pulling upon even the most recent-budded memories of this place to keep himself truly hidden.
the single eye burned with bloodglee.

Buzzard snuck through the territory uninterrupted for a little while. They were beginning to think they’d actually pull this off. Oh they could taste that fresh meat already! But just as their confidence was building up, a weird feeling crept up their spine.

Their cocky strides slowed to a stop. Their beady little eyes surveyed the surroundings. That feeling was spreading through their whole body. 

Maybe doing this alone was too much of a batshit idea, even for Buzzard. It wasn’t too late to hit bricks-

Wait wait wait a minute. No. Mama didn’t raise no quitter! They could do this!  They’d pull this shit off with or without backup. So with a sharp snort, Buzzard continued onward.

Vesta joins the stalk/battle!

 


Always dutifully shadow-bound, Vesta is on patrol. She too catches a scent, eventually sees the trespasser. 
Soundlessly, Vesta comes to Merrick's flank, chugging soft to let him know it's her. 

And so the stalk continues.

the figure stopped, glanced about.
suddenly, vesta was at his side — merrick grinned darkly at the red-nape, jerking his head silently toward the foliage beyond the interloper.
let the strange wolf be caught between them; let him be crushed by the jaws of ursus. when she moved, he would stay, keeping pace with the course of the invading creature until loyal vesta had found her proper position.

She smiles back at him with a borderline psychotic glint, catching his gesture and slipping easily through the trees and foliage.

Once in the area in front of their intruder, Vesta glanced for Merrick. She would mirror him if possible, move from cover when he did or gave the signal.

That ‘I’m totally being stalked right now’ feeling didn’t go away. Buzzard paused again, looked around, then called, Uhhh… anybody home? Kinda lost here. Wasn’t the best lost traveler act they’ve ever done, but they didn’t feel much of a need to go all out yet. There’s a chance that rotten meat got to their head, and there was actually no one there.

merrick watched;
breathe breathe breathe breathe —
step and two and three, a dance that carried him over thorn and under branch, until he materialized without snarl nor growl, snapping snakelike for the shoulder of the trespassing wolf.
and the bear spirit sang in his blood!

She watched the intruder become further uneasy, and glanced as Merrick drew closer, closer... 
Vesta too, creeping closer...closer...

Now! 

As Merrick sprang for shoulder, Vesta sprang directly for Buzzard's face with equal silence. Jaws arced and dangerous, she meant to slice and rend flesh this day.

the summons drew his attention, though luckily he was within earshot. though it was less of a formal call and more of an inquiry—that was something, given lone wolves should have called with some sense of purpose, rather than just yowling out—

he'd been on-edge since leaving the familiar confines of the valley, which spurred him on to respond to the voice on the wind. it took a while to acclimate himself to new surroundings, and he wasn't quite there yet with the mountain. he hoped they would not leave before he found his way here. 

surya, not as stealthy as his counterparts, sent pebbles and twigs skittering in his wake down the alpine slope. as the trees began to thin, he saw twin blurs—brown for merrick, pale for vesta—their teeth aimed at some unknown target—

he set off at a gallop, bristling, ready to defend his home with life and limb. better that he shed some blood here; the bear-wolves would be proud.

not quite there yet, but coming!

One moment they’re alone, the next they got two wolves hurling themselves towards them. One was in their peripheral coming for their side, the other came straight for their face. As ugly their face was, they’d like to keep that ugly face in one piece. So as a last move that wasn’t pure instinct they dipped away from the jaws of Ms. Potential Face Ripper. Unfortunately that meant taking the hit for the shoulder. Buzzard managed to tear away from the other dude’s teeth. The mark they left was sure to hurt the next day.

Once free, Buzzard made a run for it. Even if they were able to outrun the wolves, there was still another they were unknowingly heading straight for.

a fool! the stranger took their blows and careened away. merrick gave hot and immediate chase.
the rent that vesta had given sent the air spinning with the scent of blood.
merrick raced faster, cackling as he sought to cut across the stranger's path.

She missed his face, yet she finds her fangs tearing into shoulder, and as Buzzard rips away, Vesta follows closely, teeth bared, smile sinister like a cat playing with its prey. 

Merrick going for the close-off, and ahead one of their newest! This intruder would surely be fucked.

completely undeterred by the prospect of shedding blood (his own or the other's), surya went right for the face.

he careened onto the scene, coming parallel with merrick as the one-eyed man cut off the intruder. while ursus's fearless leader provided strategic cover, surya snapped at the tan muzzle, hoping to score some wounds as he did so.

once he got the chance, he ducked his head, trying to cover his own visage from returning blows. but he was well a part of the fray now, and took it upon himself to suffer—

it was better that he was harmed by the interloper than merrick or vesta. they could spare him; ursus couldn't spare the others.

Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. These dudes were fast. Were wolves always this fast? They can’t remember. Ok ok there’s no time to remember! Just run and-

Fuck— !

The other guy managed to cut them off. As Buzzard stumbled over their own paws, another wolf appeared out of nowhere. Their effort to protect their face went to shit. Teeth raked across their muzzle, and Buzzard was sent reeling back.

Alright, maybe they could outrun two wolves, but there was really pushing it. Especially when they were right on their ass. Fighting wasn’t really an option either, not with their complete lack of skill. 

Buzzard took the brief moment of not being torn apart to scream, I surrender! And if that didn’t stop them well.. they were pretty fucked huh?

surya sent himself into the stranger's teeth.
it was over swiftly, the stranger crying out for mercy.
but the taste of blood had sparked the old lust in merrick, and he circled, glancing between vesta and surya. there was no one here to keep him in rein, and this delighted the bearwitch.
part of him wished to see the other mauled for this trangression.
"get up," came the strangely pleasant tint of his voice. "you belong to ursus now."

The stranger tussled only briefly, teeth from Vesta, Surya, and Merrick all together, making dangerous blows. Vesta aimed her teeth for Buzzard's Achilles tendon at Merrick's statement - a way to make sure the trespasser couldn't run, if her teeth made it into his flesh. 

With that, she backed off slightly, yet still held tightly close in case she was needed again.

use maar do, came surya's voice, ragged and heavy, the blood on his tongue pungent. 

he whipped his head to look at merrick, ignoring buzzard's verbal white flag. kill him, he said, eyes wild. let me. let me prove myself. or was he just caught up in the chase?

no, buzzard's pelt of muddled browns reminded him all too much of himself, and the sire he resembled.

his sides rippled with quick but quiet breaths.

he turned his burning green gaze upon the interloper, sneering. he deserves it.

Fuuuuuck. That went from bad to worse really fucking fast. Buzzard barely had time to register what was said before getting a bite to the ankles. They yipped with shock, and bucked at the woman with their hind leg (which was a terrible idea by the way. Didn’t hit any part of her and made their leg worse).

Oh but that wasn’t all. The other guy wanted to straight up kill them now! And called them a he!

Do I look like a man to you? they spat. Totally not the thing they should they focusing on right now.

surya, seething —
merrick's shoulders bladed as if they were darkened reeeds, in answer, in warning, in more.
"we do not determine what is deserved, surya." and in him the bloodlust, the struggle of control in his words, the pant of wanting on the end of his words. 
voice roughened and melancholy and desirous and fanatical —
their captive had uttered something merrick found most intriguing; the bearwolf let his flame-gaze slide from surya to the figure, and thrust his terrible and scarred face close with a dragon's-wreathing of fetid breath, tinged in the smell of the prisoner's own blood —
"the bear spirit of ursus does not care who you are. only that you run red when cut."
straightening, he led on again. 
"bring them."

Vesta listened closely to the words of Merrick, his response to Surya's desire to kill. 
Quiet as always, she watched his shoulders spike, and at the orders given, Vesta aimed her teeth for the scruff of their new prisoner, intending to drag them to whatever place the Bruinking had in mind to keep the intruder for now.

skipping surya with permission

It’s a good thing his leader stopped him from turning Buzzard into dog food, cause they weren’t about to do that themselves. Not like they wanted to die. If that were the case they wouldn’t have surrendered in the first place. They were just too pissed off from being labeled a man, and caring so much about it just annoyed them even more.

Buzzard didn’t have time to wallow in their feelings for now, just like they didn’t have time to do much of anything. Their leader shoved his fucked up face into their’s, basically said “fuck your feelings”, and the next thing they knew they were being dragged away.

last for me!

on they came;
they and the newest meant to be gang-pressed into service for the bear;
merrick visualized a thousand ends as well for this hapless interloper, and said nothing of a one for now.

Last from me as well!

Vesta pulled the coywolf along, nape on end and tail stiff as she escorted Buzzard behind Merrick, to the place of the Bearking's choosing. 
Time would only tell the workings of this particular spiderweb, at least, for their new prisoner.