Qeya River a pack of dogs

@Ishmira @Sun Eater

 

he leads ishmira toward qeya river. silence follows them—he has no need for conversation. especially not with an annoying child.

she had begged him to take her to saatsine. so he did! and he would enjoy seeing if she would sink or swim.

he does not stop trailing the river until crimson eyes narrow onto sun eater in the distance. he then exhales through his nose, turning his head toward ishmira. he jerks his chin in the direction of the man.

there is the chieftain. he grumbles. you speak with him.

"thank you." she murmurs to blackfell with a nod, grateful. she skulks toward the chieftain with what she hopes is purpose and not cowardice, blue eyes respectfully downcast. she stops just short of him and lifts her head, waiting for him to speak.

but her impatience grows with her discomfort, and she blurts out the first thing that enters her mind.

"do you have room for me? here, i mean. i can pull my weight! i tracked your friend for nearly a whole day." she gestures to blackfell's stagnant form with a wave of her tail, excitement bubbling to the surface.

so many new, and sun eater felt his grasp upon leadership grow tenuous. without a stalwart trust in his mate, the usual suspicions caused now the man to dwell upon how he might destabilize them with demanding word.

blackbird man called. sun eater moved in a manner leisurely until he had come upon the hunter and the pale woman at his side. it was she who held his attention, the single eye moving with distrustful interest upon the driven-snow color of her pelt, the eyes that said she wished to join.

her eagerness drew a grin, but one cold; he did not like how she had dared to approach. yet she was young, and he relented. "you find him?" he inquired with a jesting gaze. "good. now come. you find first kill today. soon we walk again."

it was the first announcement of such since they had come to the qeya again. he invited her to his side, magnanimous in determination of her age, nodding once at blackfell to follow.

briefly did he wonder if @Ghelan might find some pleasantry in this one's presence.

she blurts out her request like a naive pup—too eager, too bold. it makes him snort softly through his nose. his eyes say enough.

sun eater's grin is cold but not without humor. the man does not dismiss her outright, which is more than blackfell had expected.

at the chieftain's nod, blackfell falls into step behind them, silent as ever. she is young, inexperienced. he hopes for her sake she is stronger than she looks.

"thank you, chief. i won't disappoint you!" his gaze is stern, a reminder of whom she speaks to, and she restrains herself from bouncing with glee. she has muscle, a lithe strength to her earned via months of hardship. she simply has yet to hone it.

blackfell falls in behind them, and she shoots him a grin-- jubilant and warm, as if they are good friends already. his sour attitude and crude demeanor are fatherly, almost.

they will hunt the hooved beasts, she knows.  their blood is potent on the chieftain's breath, and her heart flutters at the prospect of impressing the man in charge. he does not seem the type to offer second chances.

the girl held potential. "what name?" sun eater asked, choosing the moment to look over her again with cragstone stare. he had accepted her for a myriad of reasons; now he wanted to ensure his investment would not sour.

an outcropping of stone lifted from the snow. he paced here and gestured to the line of animals moving beneath the afternoon sun. "choose."

a daunting task for one young and inexperienced. a hard test, but that was all of saatsine.

a hound.

he moves quietly behind the two, eyes bearing down upon the backside of the girl, occasionally moving to graze over the chieftain, then to their surroundings.

he was hellbent on ignoring the odd, protective flame that slowly burned to life in his chest; the urge to spread wings over her.

he comes to a halt just a few feet behind the two, gazing over the herd that moves beneath the sun. looking upon their shadows that danced quietly over ice and snow. waiting for ishmira to pick.

"ishmira." she responds to his prompt, voice low in an effort not to draw attention. he orders her to decide, and she is struck with the weight of making her own decision. he will not choose for her-- this is her test.

the bulls, too dangerous for one inexperienced. the cows, far too fierce. she eyedsthe herd for a time, heart thrumming in her chest, but does not give in to pressure's temptation. she will not fail.

after a few moments, she sees it. a younger cow who favors one hind leg. old injury, perhaps, or simply poor birth. ishmira gestures with a flick of her ears, breath a soft rush for fear the herd will startle.

"her. she is wounded, but fat from grazing. she will make a good meal, and the herd will leave her."

she glances at sun eater, then at blackfell, searching for approval.

ishmira spoke. sun eater drew in the sight of chosen caribou as cold winds rushed through his fur. she had taken time to choose, a good sign, but at her glance for blackfell, the chieftain let out his breath.

only his own approval mattered.

"run," he ordered after a moment, demonstrating with a broad leap down into the snow, strides turned into a gait that picked up its speed.

expecting ishmira and blackfell to keep pace, sun eater began to cut caribou away from their target.

blackfell watches her. she takes her time. smart girl. there is patience in her choice, a calculating eye. she will do well, if she does not get herself killed first.

but when she glances at him, searching for approval, his ear flicks. burying the smirk on his face behind a mask of indifference.

fogging breath is hot in the frozen air, cords of muscle twitching as long strides carve through the snow. he does not chase at sun eater’s flank like some obedient hound.

no—he cuts his own path, sweeping wide, watching, waiting.

she mimics the chieftain's leap with one of her own, sinking into the snow only a moment before she is bounding after, trailing sun eater. she remains near him, emphasizing his strength with snaps of her jaws as the herd begins to stir, and then flee.

the wounded cow is easy to pinpoint, limping along at the back of the herd. ishmira ignores temptation, conscious of appearing disobedient. the chieftain did not tell her to split, and so she will not-- even if blackfell's method seems to be more fun. her tongue lolls from the side of her mouth, white teeth on display as she curls her lip and snaps at the air. it is important that their target is not evident until the majority of the herd has moved on.

blackfell ranged to chase. sun eater kept ishmira beside him. 

now his teeth struck for the cow, but he did not break her hide; his jaws harried her to a slowing gait, and sun eater shoved hard to send the caribou stumbling.

quick as she had proven to be, ishmira was intended to take first blood today, and the chieftain kept their quarry smitten with fear, leaping at its side while the young hunter made her strike.

and he was consumed with the honor and the glory of the hunt, of the lanzadoii out in raid upon the snow.

blackfell let the hunt run before him. let the girl be tested, let the chieftain see his will carried out. he need not leap in first, nor second.

now sun eater forced the beast into a stumble. blackfell cut its other path, a shadow among the snowdrift, breath fogging dark in the cold air.

his voice was a growl, low and expectant, as he bellows:

take her down, girl! and part of him wishes to say next: take her by the throat! but knows he cannot guide her here. she must prove she knows. that she has the instinct of a hunter.

her heartbeat roars in her ears, drowning out all else save for the muted thud of the cow's hooves. a kick is aimed at her head, whirring just past her skull. the girl bares her teeth and lunges, maw closing around the meat of the animal's throat. it flees for a time, dragging her along with it, but she does not relent, and the chieftain soon sends it stumbling. her eyes are wide with fear and adrenaline, blackfell's words echoing in her ears like a hymn, but her hold is true.

weakly it slows, front legs twitching as loss of blood takes its toll. the white wolf grips it with her forepaws, blue eyes boring into wide black ones. she can feel its pulse beneath her tongue, its blood splashing against her teeth.

the cow writhes, but ishmira is steadfast. its heartbeat races for a time, slows as the beast stills. she meets its eyes as they glaze over, glassy, and does not relent until its pupils dilate into great black pools. only then does she release her hold, white jaws stained crimson with lifeblood.

it was not a time for words! sun eater did not know why blackfell irked him so, save that he was a man driven, like himself. he wanted gjalla. did he also want power?

he did not address it, instead watching with admiring eye the whirl and deadly cut of ishmira. he held the cow as she cut; he bore the brazen body down into the snow while breath ebbed and legs kicked.

his teeth gleamed in blood-drip triumph. he growled a note of acceptance to ishmira, gesturing.

first blood. first dine.

in interest of amiability, sun eater nodded toward blackfell, appreciative of the feral young hunter he had brought among the saatsine.

blackfell saw the triumph of it. saw the way she clung, did not let go. a proper kill, a proper end. he watched the last twitches of the caribou’s legs, the slow, creeping stillness of death overtaking the beast as ishmira refused to release her grip. she would not relent until it was truly over.

he exhaled sharply through his nose, crimson gaze unreadable as his run slowed, watching as sun eater oversaw the rite of first blood. a smile comes to face—begrudging, all the same.

and then—sun eater’s nod. a gesture of approval. blackfell met it with his own, and then quickly turned his attention to ishmira. coming to step beside her, where she bent above her kill. you did well.

she waits for him to eat first, confusion marking her when he motions instead for her to take her fill. among her people, the one in charge eats first always. the laws are different here, she reminds herself. and she is no longer among her people. she is saatsine now, free of their prying eyes.

she dives muzzle deep, tearing skin from fat and relishing the warmth the cow's body provides, but pulls away with a piece clasped in her jaws. she glances uncertainly at sun eater, seeking direction. whether he has given her permission to dine freely or simply sample a portion is unclear to her, and she would rather not learn via bloodshed what he truly means.

blackfell speaks then, and her tail wags once of its own volition. she seeks his praise without meaning to, and it warms her. mouth too full to thank him, she squints instead, a friendly indication of her gratitude.

it was the way that he consume first, wolfish edict handed down through lorekept years. decades. eons.

but they were saatsine, and each hunter had their own status. ishmira gained the chieftain's approving eye, where confidence in her hunt sparkled, mingling with a different expression.

she held promise, and it was to such that he found himself drawn.

"uuts'taa is right," sun eater murmured, uttering the man's new title. "rest. hunt more. hunt, and i find lanzadoii name for you."

uuts'taa is right— words that come as grim surprise to uuts'taa in question. red eyes sifting to the man, holding cold upon him for several long beats; bearing, heavily, into the back of his head while he addresses ishmira.

he promises her a name. he welcomes her beneath his yoke. bids she hunt, and black bird grazes eyes upon her now. roving her, finding the lean sinew beneath her pale coat. it could be trained—she could be trained.

and no one held claim to her but blackfell—he would cloister her beneath his wing. teach her his ways, learn her of his culture, just as he would the children he'd bring from gjalla. it is a decision set in stone. blackfell is not hungry and so he does not eat, instead, offers a parting nod to the both of them—but red eyes linger long on ishmira. silent bid that she come when she finishes.

he departs with the shadowing wings of a raven flying high.

exit !!