Walkin' around singing the blues in bright red Jimmy Choos

Weeks after the pack hunt, Saena still suffered the occasional headache, and still nursed a deep resentment for the misogynistic hunt leader and his arrogant comments. Being kicked in the cheek by the doe was a mistake, a miscalculation that could happen to any wolf, even the best hunters. She halfheartedly hoped it would happen to him next, and that a deer would take his filthy head off, but she couldn't follow through with these thoughts in good conscience.

Perhaps for this reason, Saena avoided spending long periods of time in the pack. She didn't know what had happened after she left the scene of the pack hunt, but judging by the fact Koda still walked in their lands, the outcome wasn't satisfactory for her. In fact, she'd told her father not a week ago that she felt they all shared the same opinion. It was no wonder she spent longer and longer away from the pack, keeping her most recent anger hidden well.

Her journey took her around the mountain and to the base of the opposite side, where a lake collected at the bottom of a grand waterfall. From the sun glinting off its surface, Saena could see it carried away as a river that dwindled into a creek, but her knowledge ended there; that that creek was in fact Swiftcurrent Creek was unknown to her. Pausing at the edge of the misty lake, the female lowered her snout and drank deeply, hoping the icy water could take the edge off her current headache.

Warthog did not range far from the ragged little band of her fellows, mismatched and odd-sized as they were. But she followed Dogmeat, and where he went she would be at his side. The scent of water had drawn the dog from where she lay shivering in a half-dug hollow, and she gathered her large lumbering form up to seek it out.

Shuddering at the cold, from which her thin fur did not yet protect her, the large Rottweiler skulked as quietly as she could through the snow, instinct guiding her steps. And yet, when the water sparkled in sight, Warthog drew to a sudden halt, eyes narrowed on the almost catlike delicacy of the young wolf bending at its edge.

Her appearance was a mangle of muscle, and drool, and teeth; the dog immediately hated the offspring of her forbearers, this lanky and beautiful thing, as if she herself were naught more than an ugly, twisted parody.

As befitting her breed, Warthog lunged into a silent, deadly run, jowls skinning back from her teeth. She did not bark, nor did she growl; the dog's vocals were silent, but her mouth watered for the spurt of blood and the crack of bone.

She slurped greedily, allowing her ears to keep tabs for her, but they lacked the reliability of sight. A monster was coming for her, but was so silent she took no notice of it in the distance. It was an obvious black-and-tan figure that was impossible to miss by sight, but Saena was relying on a sense she foolishly thought to transcend sight, and it was failing her now.

By the time she lifted her snout and caught the sound of drumming paws, Warthog was close. Saena's head turned sharply to witness the rottweiler bearing down on her... and her hackles went rigid with fear and alarum. Never had she seen a dog, so she was left to assume it was a wolf, but a most disfigured one. Even its markings were abnormal, the way its ears fell over its cheeks unusual, and the marks upon its hide most concerning.

Although usually one to reach out to such a sorry creature, Saena was petrified. She could almost hear the seething drool as the dog drew closer, and then Warthog was upon her. Saena's eyes squeezed shut and then she threw herself fearfully to the side, dodging by automatic impulse rather than any inherent ability to fight. This creature was unnatural and mad, and everything about it screamed for her to get away, but for the moment she was, again, paralyzed.

almost! her mind screeched, but the impetus of her charge carried her in a sailing movement past the wolf, into the water beyond. Despite her bulk, Warthog whirled gracefully, only to stumble upon on her over-extended and injured leg. Staggering, she fought for balance as pain exploded in her flesh, licking tongues of volatile fire. With a grunt, the Rottweiler recovered, and in the next moment she was striking against for the gossamer wisp of fur and flesh.

Resentment was behind the snap of her teeth, the large block of her muzzle seizing wildly for whatever part of the hated creature she could reach; to live in the wilds was her birthright, though she had not asked for it, and the wildness of the beast she sought to kill assaulted her with derision.

Backward stumbled Saena on clumsy paws with every hair on her body stiffened. The dog was quick to wheel and lock her in its sights once more. In the split second before it charged her, Saena's tongue snaked out in an attempt to call mercy and she cried, "please, I can help you!"

It was no use. This deformed wolf was too wild and aggressive, its charge unhalting. She turned, hoping to escape, but she was too slow and the mad dog's jaws caught her haunch. Crying out, the young female attempted to wrench her leg free so she could run, for now ignoring the pain that blossomed there.

umg i cant decide what font i want for warthog ;_;

Her teeth caught flesh, and she flew into a frenzy of anger and excitement. Bracing her muscled hindlegs, Warthog used the thick strength through her shoulders and forelegs to tear at the limb within her maw — however, almost as quickly as she sought to grind her teeth into the bone, the wolf had wrenched away, leaving the Rottweiler bereft, possessed only of scraps of fur and flesh, and the hot metal of blood.

"bitch," she rasped, paws gripping the earth to hurtle her juggernaut body after her prey, the ironically soft brown of her gaze now darkened with fury, and with hunger.

By a miraculous stroke of luck, Saena's leg came free of Warthog's grasp. At the same time the mutant wolf hissed, Saena cried out again as her foot contacted the ground and sent a white knife of pain up from her knee. Had it not been for the adrenaline rushing through her, she would've collapsed on the spot and babied her injury, but the juvenile knew that was too risky.

She cast a quick, wary glance over her shoulder and saw Warthog barreling toward her again. Despite the pain that made her grimace and brought tears to her eyes, the juvenile fled, screaming "leave me alone!" as she pushed and hoped for an escape route.

The wolf flew away from her, and Warthog, despite the shooting pain of her leg, gave chase, silent in the manner of her breed. The ironically soft cinnamon of her eyes, notoriously warm in normal circumstances, had darkened with the black hunger of her being, and even as the lupine's form pulled away from her on elegant, tapering legs, the pale visage disappearing into the distance, Warthog ran, cascading her tank of a body after her escaped prey until her strength gave way and she collapsed with an angry bellow.

Presently, the Rottweiler clambered to her feet with a grunt and limped away to find shelter from the biting cold, nursing her injured leg along with a deep and abiding hatred.

@Warthog It might be awkward but if you can get one last post in this will count for EXP and as a BWP thread officially!

Plump as she was for a wolf, Saena was able to outspeed the dog, possibly due to superior wild breeding. The barrel-chested Rottweiler must have fallen at some point, because behind Saena came a wild, deep-throated bellow that made the wolf falter. Her ears slung back as she came to a dead halt, glancing back over her shoulder in search of the mutant.

It was no longer in hot pursuit. It was so far away that she could barely even spot it among the snow, and yet Saena took no chances. Without a sound, she turned and kept running, hoping the pain in her leg would stay numb for a while longer until she could get really far away.

sounds good to me!

<3

She lay in a halfdug nest, nursing her leg. Blocky muzzle faced in the direction the wolf had gone; hunger gnawed at her. Warthog whined beneath her breath, grieving the loss of the familiar white-gloved hands that, while they had hurt her, had also fed her aching body, and a strangled cry rose into the air. Not quite howl, not quite bark, it was the sensation of a troubled beast, one who belonged nowhere in this foul wild.