Big Salmon Lake i'll strike a violent pose

@Ensio

hunger drew zharille along the lake's edge. she was not a patient creature when she was in this state, and when she saw a heron standing among the reeds she launched herself after it. this went as well as could be expected: zharille the blunt instrument, bludgeoning the grass while the heron took wing.

she paced along the edge for a few more minutes, snorting and disoriented by her failure, and then it was as if the heron had never been there at all. she shook the failure off of herself with a tousle of her shoulders, and began to move along again.

Accustomed to being on his own and looking out only for himself, the lone Duskfire had no qualms about getting his own meals. The frigid, arctic air would perturb some, sending them hurrying for shelter in the warmth of a den. Not him. He was a wolf built of northern, Tundrian heritage. Born and raised on a Glacier, with mountain peaks as his backyard.

Hardy paws, thickly insulated between his digits pounded once against a thick layer of ice. On the eastern bank, he had selected a spot where the ice would not crumble under his initial weight. What he was after lurked beneath. If he were lucky, he would get a fish today. Any less than that and his prize may have to be soggy, scavenged leftovers.

For the second time, he reared up. Granite and silver wind tussled fur glinting under the dull light of winters sun. And down he came, stiff legged. Focused on a pinpoint spot of the ice. Groaning, creaking and cracking, inch by inch.

the sound of splitting ice caught in her ears. she did not know what to make of it at first - it was unlike anything she'd heard before. there were no lakes like this in the kyneswood, and it had never gotten cold enough for the creeks and ponds to freeze.

she was wary as she ambled. sometimes the sound would cease and she would too. she would look around with her ears turning to every noise - then continue on, until she came to a path that opened up a line of sight to where the other wolf was working.

zharille's nostrils flared. she could only smell the mud and the ice from this distance, but it was obvious there was a white wolf ahead of her. he was standing on the ice, or close enough to it that she could make that mistake; so she crept closer, and as soon as she set a paw upon the closest patch, she felt her toes slipping and pulled back again.

for a second or two zharille was perplexed. she sniffed at her paw, then at the ice, and did not know what to do.

So caught up was he in his task, that he did not notice the approach of the large female immediately. Only when he stopped to rest his legs, catching a glimpse of her timber form from the reflection in the ice. He looked up, glacial eyes fixing on her from behind a slate mask.

He bore a naturally stern look. Rugged and cut like his parents. She was large, like him. A picture of health. She seemed curious about what he was doing. But first he offered to her a low rumble from his throat, tail relaxed to show he was approachable. A massive paw pressed down against the ice again, demonstrating that the immediate area on which he stood was stable. Digits with blunt nails raked over it in a scraping motion. The whole time, he kept those icy eyes all on her.

his sounds slid across the ice in a way that was most strange, but she understood.

zharille was not smart, but she could be bold. she saw how he patted the ice and stood strong there and thought she could too, so even with her initial hesitation she took the time to step one paw, then another, then another - and soon she was standing on the ice.

it did not feel good. in fact, as she began to stride in her usual hulking way, her paws slipped out from under her. she quickly braced and found them sliding again, again, again, in a most ungainly manner; however, she did make progress and came to an uneasy pause nearer to the other wolf.

she was hesitant now to extend towards him, sniffing the air; one wrong move and she might break the ice and kill them both.

He sensed her caution. Saw her uncertainty as her paws slipped against the ice. She was not experienced with it as he was. Should she look to observe him, he flexed his toes deliberately. Spreading them out so his nails pressed down, digging in slightly against the crust. The technique would provide some traction.

That wasn't the only potential problem. The combined weight from their large, hefty frames could put them both in danger. He huffed softly, looking towards the bank, which was only several feet away. Glancing back to her with a soft huff of air.

Rolling his shoulders back, he shuffled gingerly, closer to her exposed side. Ears erect, body tense. And, if she would allow it, he would lean against her, to take a step closer to the shore line.

the nearer she got, the more uneasy she felt.

the ice groaned but did not split. it was not enough to break anything, but together they were too much - and if they lingered, the ice would certainly devour them both. he seemed aware; when he moved back, she watched him and felt a spike of panic.

was he leaving her here? was this a trick? her tail lashed against her hocks, and that movement alone made something shift in the ice. the man made a beckoning sound and so with her waddle engaged, zharille made slow progress towards him.

he became a bulwark alongside her, herding her to the shore nearer where he had begun. she welcomed the aid all the way to the bank, and then hurried to stable ground. afterwards, she gave him a wolf-smile and reached out to press her nose to his jowel, a flick of her tongue across his chin as thanks.

He was not a deceptive man. He had been raised better than that. After being mislead by too many false promises, he was shaped into a wolf of brutal honesty and straight forwardness. Side by side, allowing her to lean against him for support...and even assurance, they made it to the bank.

Once their paws met the solid, cold ground, he let her move on ahead. As total strangers, he half expected her to run off and maybe never look back. What she opted for instead, surprised him. A cold nose against his jawline, sweeps of her tongue. He stood tall and proud, tail cutting through the air contently.

In mixed display of curiosity, assertiveness and affection, he rose up to rest his forelegs over her shoulders. Taking an investigatory sniff through the hairs lining her temples, clipping lightly at the back of an ear.

he was suddenly very tall! she did not have time to react, although a panic swept through her, and she began to bristle. his wrists hooked across her shoulders and she gave a low rumble out of surprise as well as warning; but his probing nose was seeking scents, and when he did not seek her throat or face with those teeth, she permitted some of his investigating.

when she had enough, she drew back a quick-step and let him fall, snorting softly, and watching him. her ears turned back, then forward, full of uncertainty that was readily displayed.

He had noticed how she begun to bristle. Heard her rumble. He was mindful enough not to have applied his full weight down while leaning on her. After making it clear she had had enough by stepping away, she could slip out from his reach without strain. 

He made no attempt at closing in on her again, noting those flickering ears of hers. He shifted his body, turning so his side was exposed to her. An open invitation that she may get close to explore him through scent and touch.

he did not chase her.

zharille thought him curious, and odd, and young, but he knew more than she did. he knew the tricks of the ice, and he had not needed to save her from it, yet he had. when he welcomed her close with a turn of his body, she almost refused him - looking over her shoulder while one ear trained to his position in case he did attack - then, deciding, she moved towards him again.

there were other scents netted in the white of his pelt. men, women. wet marsh. fading salt.

now so close, zharille got a sly idea. she reached for his snout and tried to grab at it with her teeth! it was not enough to harm, only to hold, to see if he would accept the sudden change in their dynamic. maybe he would fight against it - and fight against her!

He was many things. Young. Lost. Betrayed and experienced. Even stubborn and rebellious. A pushover, he was not.

His sire and dam had both been imposing, dominant wolves. Some of that had trickled down to Ensio, and he would prove it. He had never had to actively assert himself before. The most he had done was in puphood, with his evil spirited sister. Now, finding himself the grasp of someone else's muzzle triggered an instinctive reaction in him.

His eyes narrowed and the rumble in his throat was deep. Severe. A warning. Silvered hackles began to flare, thickened plume of a tail raised above his hips. He shoved himself into her...although not hard. Angling his neck, parting his jaws to fence with her.

it took a moment for the boy to react, from zharille's estimation. when he did it was strength she felt beating against her; first pushing at her side, trying to set her off-balance, and next to angle himself away from her as if she meant to truly harm.

as he parted his jaws she lost her grip (or gave it up, it would be unclear). she saw teeth, and made a low playful sound as she parried with her own. so their game began! she would not be brought down by his pushing and shoving - and she sought for herself an opening to grab at him, whether it was his face or his ear, even perhaps his neck with a pinch!

Low notes, vibrating growls, escaped from his vocal chords. Ears turned back and tail swaying stiffly, their teeth clacked and scraped against one another. However, his lips remained relaxed. No dramatic flash of his teeth for her. Not yet.

They were testing one another. Pushing boundaries. Feeling one another out. It was in a wolfs nature to do so this way. He felt the pinch of teeth on the skin of his cheek. He wrinkled one eye shut, as if in annoyance. Trying to pull away, gauging the force behind her hold.

He was not without an answer for her. Clipping at her scruff, his bite was firm but by no means meant to break the skin. Only to hold her in place and see how much she would take.

they need not test one-another for long, however zharille was enjoying herself. he held more energy than most she had played with, and countered her efforts with more speed than she anticipated.

when she held his cheek there came a groan, and yet she only released him to reach again to grab for something else, and missed, as he went for her scruff. she ducked but was not fast enough! it did not help that she was so large he had plenty of real-estate to reach for.

so the tussling and rough-housing would go on, until one of them relented. it was only a matter of time before someone grew too tired or too stimulated for this game; and it was quickly becoming zharille, whose attention grew rougher by the moment.

We can wrap this up! <3

They tussled and jostled back and forth. Testing one another's limits and tolerance. Ensio was a robust young wolf and he could take as good as he gave. But he was not dense.

He knew when to call it quits. Especially with wolves of the opposite sex, of whom he was a little more forgiving with. The agouti woman was ramped up, growing bolder and more assertive. Finally, his counter moves ceased. Signaling an end to his testing with a forceful snort. Glacial eyes averted and he held himself in a lower, more neutral position. 

Her status acknowledged, but not without giving her a little run for her money's worth.