Whitebark Stream don't think we need to engage in any pleasantries

*monopolizes u srry*

early that morning he'd put @Indra III onto the scent of a lame buck. it was too much for the two of them, so the name of the game was to wear it down first and call the others. 
at first the animal tried to feign health. it galloped before them and pranced, demonstrating its strength. but as the sunlight rose, the buck faltered once, then again.
he did not surge for it when the beast truly fell, but drew closer. the buck was able to rise again and half-ran, half-staggered into the shadows of a single oak.
colt loped casually along the water, redbird in tow.
mine.

She had not chased a buck before, from memory.
So far with Colt it had been carrion, small things, sometimes a mark; but rarely if ever could they corner something as mighty and calorie-rich as this. It descended to the shadows of the oak and Redbird was coasting in Colt's wake, close enough to see his cues, to hear commands if he uttered them, and quick.
He pulled along the water.
She eyed him as much as the buck's dark trail, perhaps more-so, vigilant.

colt preened under her eyes. out here he was free to exchange those looks with red, redbird, indra — he was free to look at her and not roll his eyes in the next moment if sadey caught sight of them.
briggs wondered if she knew she belonged to him. he wondered if she wanted that. 
it was not something he had ever thought about a possession. but she was more than something fine; she was someone fine, crimson clay he could mold in better ways than anyone else.
the buck had fallen again. colt stopped to peruse the indentation along the bank left by its hip.

She shot ahead of him as he dipped towards the earth.
The trail led among crags and scrubgrass, bits of leaf-litter and brambles.
Indra doubled back, having lost sight of the buck temporarily. She could hear something breathing heavily but saw no sign of the thing. Wheeling one way then another, she tried to catch a scent; the longer she went without clues the more anxious she felt, as she did not want to fail.
A distant cough sounded, or something dull like that.
She spun towards it and moved sharply along the trunks of trees, until she caught sight of the downed creature struggling.

colt fell back to follow. red was becoming a fine tracker; she took to the wind and the earth as though she had been born in these wilds.
he had never asked after her past since that first time, and explained nothing about his. they lived in the moment. and during this one he sidled to her taut scarlet shoulder and looked toward the panting, winded buck.
"whatcha think, redbird?" his breath stirred the fur along her shoulder. "if we pick wrong, one of us gets fucked up. if we pick right, we eat good before th'gang gets here."

Indra did not speak a reply.
She felt the warmth of his presence for a moment, tasted his breath once it had dissipated across her neck and down her cheek. Then she pulled away to investigate.
Her steps were measured and deliberate. She was not fast now, only steady, reaching and nearly silent. If the buck heard her at all it gave no indication; the thing's breath was ragged enough to drown her movements.
When she was very close, close enough to nip at it if she wanted, she pulled away and went around to where the brambles formed a wall; there she chuffed, watching its ears, the muscles of the neck - any signs there of awareness would spook her back again.
The buck only grunted to itself and seemed useless where it had sunken down. She turned her head to look at Colt, and that motion brought an animated huff from the buck, who tried and failed to rise, calling out as it brandished a crown of thorns.

there was nothing in redbird now of what she had been: a starving little rat eating another. she was assured, a stalker of shadows and singer of dark things. he saw in her the ability to kill, and thanked himself for putting it there. 
the buck was weakened beyond measure. its antlers tangled among the briars. it was good luck. he gave a low whistle of admiration for her choice and their luck, startling the animal again. it struggled but the betrayal of its own muscles was all but complete.
silently and cougaresque, colt stalked beyond red, circling silently until the artery in its throat bulged near enough to see.

She saw what he saw.
That vein when cut would end the buck, and spell good eating for the gang.

Colt moved as if to take it himself, but Indra snaked in close, quickly, while he was distracted she thought; while his eyes gleamed with red reflection. Her teeth caught in the thing's neck and as she pulled down, tearing through, a gout of blood came to stain her muzzle.
She continued on at pace, following the length of its body, and then looked bemused upon Colt while the buck slowly died. Red smeared her face and dripped thickly from her chin.

red lunged and then cerise painted the air.
his own cheek was splattered with it. indra was watching him with something like humour, standing feral and reeking of the copper-scented trickles of blood along all of her.
it was not the first time he slid his muzzle along her chin to taste what they shared; it was the first time he lingered, flicking his tongue along her eartip before he finally withdrew.
"yew first, redbird."
colt squatted on his haunches, eyes glittering in the gloom.

Having decided she need not wait to kill the thing, she also decided in the moment that she would not waste time waiting for permission; already seeking to eat from the beast as its life bled from it. Colt spoke and she was halfway through a bite.
The buck did protest with a dying breath, aspirating a constellation that wet the brambles.
Indra peeled back the skin. Tore through the hide, fought against it to reach the meat. Her muzzle bore a hole through the haunch of the animal and she thought, it tasted poorly for what she imagined.
Perhaps the living death was spoiling it.
She pulled away glutted, grinning, and pressed close to Colt for a fiendish snap at his cheek, leaving streaks of blood behind.

and colt would not give it again. she no longer needed it. this moment of admiration was spoiled by a moment's fear; suppose she was growing away from him. suppose indra opened her eyes one morning and no longer needed colt? no longer wanted him; no longer feared him.
his stomach fell away.
it was this moment that indra chose; she whirled and her teeth flashed. he reacted without a milisecond of hesitation, uppercutting with a harsh knock of his jaw.
too late he saw she had been playing. he laughed, a single dusty syllable, then fell into an apologetic playbow, paws sticky in the cooling blood.

The taste of his fur as it caught in her teeth was sharp against the blood. It did not last though, as the man knocked some sense into her; a sharp jab up, punching her back and leaving the world spinning. She nearly clipped her own tongue.
She was staggered a moment and lost herself. He was bowing, which was fortunate, as Indra swayed in to his range of motion and caught herself trying to grab at him with some new ferocity - missing utterly, as he wove down, though.
The girl steadied herself against the dead thing instead. It was only a momentary lapse from the blow which addled her, and when she was able she shot him a glare - met with apology.
She shook out her neck furs and looked away, to show forgiveness if nothing else.

her teeth flashed for him. he had missed it in his dip: a hard fighter's jab. 
they looked at each other; colt straightened slowly as her sodden neckfur flickered in silent communication. "i ain't someone who's played much, redbird." it was not a warning this time, an explanation.
he approached on wary legs; he invaded her space and watched for a warning glint of teeth, the tension of her body, anything to say that he wasn't welcome.
his red eyes burned into her own. he wanted to touch the dried buck's-blood along her chin. "d'yew like it? being here with me?"

His comment made her huff a laugh. It seemed preposterous to think of Colt her own age, or younger, playing. Making little games out of nothing but sticks and bones, or having playmates with which to commune. She couldn't think of that for herself either, actually - everything before Colt was a blackness, as if it had been burned out of her. It was hard looking back.
He came creeping in close.
It wasn't unnatural, him being there. Often enough Colt kept her under the crook of an arm, or ran so close beside her they could trip one-another. After their miscommunication she did watch him with some wariness, until those eyes were upon her.
She saw herself, bloodmarked.
Yes, the thought and the word came at once, together.

colt dealt with women in terms of debt. he had no idea how else to work alongside his desires; they were disjointed without a sense of being owed. 
indra had killed the buck tonight. they were on equal footing. 
still, he crowded her slowly against its still-warm body, enjoying the resistance of that physical presence behind her. the air was still thick with the scent of blood.
"yew like belongin' t'me, red?"
colt could no longer imagine that she was not with him. could she?

This was not the first time she had been cornered. Probably wouldn't be the last, either. Colt enjoyed these kinds of games; taking power in small increments, forcing her back against the deer corpse.
Where before Indra might have averted her eyes or done whatever she could to appease him, she was riled from the brief show of aggression, the hot blood in her throat, the meat in her belly. Feeling herself, more or less.
Wild-hewn. Embrous. A look that said, do I? As she pushed back in tiny increments to test him, as he tested her.

colt could pry that look out of her eye any time he wanted. he could have her eye too. but as the weeks had gone on he realized the emotions he liked when settling a debt had never applied to indra.
it unsettled him. 
"yew ain't gotta say it," he mocked in a voice gone to coalsmoke. this time he did clean the blood from her chin, in firm swipes that did not rest longer than necessary. "i know yew do."
he stepped around indra and began to feed.

He stole a taste, and was abated.
The deer became his focus. Indra watched him a moment, thought of how disarmed he might be now; thought of all the things she could do, and that it might even make him proud if he could read her mind now, the treachery of that moment. Instead she turned and stepped away.
Colt was right. She belonged to him and she liked it that way.
Whatever pressure he had exuded by standing close, it had lessened as he'd turned to eat. She could breathe easier.
And the others? Who do they belong to? Or had he given her some special privilege by linking them together for the winter?

colt smirked. "maybe. maybe not th'same way. not exactly, anyhow. reno, sadey'n i, we're part of the originals. all of us belong t'each other for that reason, an' all them long years in between."
he smacked his lips and cut tissue from under a rib. 
"but yew an'i, well. that's different."
colt gave her a gory grin before he dipped back to his gorging.

He was vague.
The mention of Sadey made her bristle a bit. The woman and Colt, what were they to one another? Siblings? Allies, at the very least. She seemed friendly and flighty with him in equal measure, and always angry. That kind of thing you only got from family.
Different how? Her boldness struck even her, although the wild airs continued about her; Indra was under some sort of blood hold evidently, empowered, watching him eat and grin his bloody grimace of a smile at her, and back again.
Rounding along the dead deer's other side, the side which cooled, she came to its head and idled among the bez-tines which tangled in the briar. Like a pet?

he groaned a bit with the pleasure of a full body. colt shoved away from the carcass. "just — different. sadey'n reno'n i, well — we seen each other at our worst. sick. dyin'. durin' murder. we seen a lot o'the gang die off too, over the years."
he sighed, shut his eyes. "none o'that with us." and it wouldn't be, if he had a say. he opened his gaze and let it dance on indra, who hovered close like a wild filly. "why d'yew say pet?"

All she offered at first was a shrug.
Put up with a lot from her, the loud one.
Indra wasn't like that. Closer to Reno in that way, she supposed.
Keep me fed n'warm, tell me when to run, when to hunt, when to sleep. She didn't mention the occasional praises or corrections, which went without saying. Her jaw smarted from his earlier blow and it needed no reminder.
So, pet. It wasn't a complaint however; better to be well kept than forgotten, or killed. An easy observation.

he chuckled. "sadey's loud cause she cares. a lot. she wants what's best for everyone an' she thinks she knows the only way." he shook his head, yawned a little. "yew'll see."
pet. colt opened one eye and fixed it toward indra. "reckon that's true. i do all that." his tones dropped to teasing. "yew like bein' my pet, redbird? say it this time."
he laughed again, but this time he felt a long familiar thrum, and ran his tongue along the ridges of his yellowed teeth. if she was a pet, then he'd see her jump like one.

She eyed the downed deer's crown a moment longer, then strode along its neck's length without caring if her paws touched the pooled, still warm blood upon the earth. The marks left behind slowly filled in, or looked to be partly clotted.
I am your pet, a blood-drunk one at that. Stepping so close that she could touch him if she'd wanted, or he could strike at her if he dared; the flare of her coat briefly tangled against his, spreading autumn across his muddied, bloodied, mess of a body until she pulled away again.
—for now.

the first challenge had not much roused colt. but her second, whispered as she smeared him with blood and he felt the light warm weight of her body, brought a great and choking possessiveness right into his throat.
the idea that someone else could have her was implied, he felt. and it was against this that colt railed in his mind. but he knew he must be careful; he must not react in a way that would rob red of this moment's power.
"we'll see," was all the man said, something hungry and dark and dangerous in his eye, before he stood and stalked away from her, away from his desire, headed stiff-legged into the gloom where he did not dare her to follow.