Blackfoot Forest conflict of interests

For @Dovev and also AW. :-)

Her stomach rumbled, for it had been a few days since she had found an underfed rabbit and had torn it to pieces. Now, Roadkill was intent on finding food beneath the snow-covered ground, or finding something to hunt. She didn't like forests much, but she'd got lucky last time finding something in one, so maybe it was time to put her qualms with forests behind her. Not like qualms with much of anything'd do her much good here, anyway, she reckoned, since she could use all the luck to survive.

Seems it was Roadkill's lucky day, it was, when she saw the foot of some kind of animal stick from the snow. Barking madly, because her heritage and instinct got excited by the sight of wounded and dead animals (even though there were no owners nor other beagles 'round to inform about the kill), Roadkill ran up to the body and started to dig away the snow.

There wasn't much left of this carcass, really, mostly just bones, with a couple of scraps of flesh to pick from the bones here 'n there. But it was food, at least. Tail wagging furiously, Roadkill dug her face into the carcass and ripped off a few pieces of meat that she could find, then loudly chewing on them as though she hadn't eaten in weeks.

hey!

Although the pack was well fed and maintained, Dovev still felt that eating out of their caches- something he didn't help fill, wasn't in his interests. Besides, the wolf had grown up on the tough, sinewy meat of animals long dead. Scavenging was no stranger to him, and in fact, was a vital part of living in the north. So the male would sometimes go out to find an old kill for nostalgia, rather than need.

He hadn't wandered far from the Creek holdings when the brute's nose was lambasted with the heady winter wind, bringing with it various aromas. Pleased with his luck, Dovev had picked up the scent of something dead and frozen off to the west- and he could taste the undercurrent of meat still on the bone. It seemed promising... save for the fact that the male could also decipher an unfamiliar smell. It wasn't one of a wolf. Not a fox or coyote either. No, the arctic male couldn't tell what it was, but he was not one to stray away from something he didn't know of. His paws picked up the pace and the wolf swung out towards the direction of the kill.

Dovev halted in the vicinity of the kill, his eyes able to distinctly pick out the ribcage rising off the ground, with strips of leathery skin tangled in the cold breeze. The source of the strange scent, however, was increasingly strong and seemed to emanate from the medium-sized creature feverishly ripping into the scraps. Lowering his head, the white wolf slowly approached, nose twitching. He had never seen anything like it- it was the size of a fox, but had a rather strange shape, and patchy coloring. And must be dumb, too, for the wolf had come up easily behind her. More curious than hungry, though, he was content to watch from a short ways away.

Roadkill continued to gorge on whatever picks of meat she could find off the carcass. Her face deep into the carcass, she didn't notice the scent of wolf, her mind going on the scent of blood and death and prey animal. Only after a while of chewing on the meat she could pick off did she notice the white wolf coming up close.

Startled by his seemingly sudden appearance, Roadkill licked her lips and called out, "You startled me, mate!" She wondered if wolves had plenty of food, that they didn't think they owned meat that dogs were eating. Or maybe this one just wasn't as cocky as the one she'd met before. Alert but not agressive, Roadkill stared at him, while occasionally licking her lips to savour the taste of the deer.

The misshapen, vaguely canine-looking creature had spun around to meet Dovev's intensely curious stare. Interesting... her ear was floppy, with the other tattered to a stump. Scars zagged across her muzzle, which was blocky and short compared to his own long and narrow one.

He wasn't angry that the beat-up looking thing was eating leftovers- it was a carcass abandoned by wolves in favor of a fresher one. The male padded a few steps closer, his tail swinging high in the air as his gray eyes studied her beady little dog eyes. Having found the kill east of the Creek borders, Dovev was keenly aware that it was his best interest to head the female off before she wandered too close to the pack. But for now, it was worth an investigation as to who, what, or why had placed such an animal on Earth.

Where did you come from?
Dovev had never seen a dog before, and this one made for a scrappy representation for her breed.

The wolf neared further, and Roadkill didn't like one bit where this was going. What little hairs she had on her back rised instinctively and she bared her teeth through floppy cheeks, narrowing her eyes. She didn't take an agressive move just yet, but stayed on edge, making it clear that the wolf shouldn't think he could get any closer than he was now without consequences.

"Skippin' pleasantries then, eh?" Roadkill muttered; no names were offered nor asked, only a simple 'where did you come from'. "Last stop b'fore hell, mate." But somehow, she'd got away from there, and was thrown into this whole other hellish world with all these damn wolves thinking they were all that, and not an Owner in the world. Not that she was cocky enough to think any Owners'd still want scruffy ole' Roadkill.

The laugh that came from his throat was warmer than most others, an amused tone that reflected his curiousity. Dovev loved the little dog's accent, it was such a unique sound. It reminded him of an old Creek female, Bones, but she was nowhere as raggedy and didn't put on a tough girl show as this dog was doing.

He stopped, ears pricked as he listened to her delightedly, finding the mutterings and bemused attitude of the scrappy mutt charming. There was no reason to worry now, for she didn't seem aggressive, just a bit anxious and defensive.

Oh? You wanted a hello? he teased with a flick of his tail, glancing over her. His own jaws were open, lazily displaying his lower set of teeth in response to hers. The dog's mouth was bared in a warning growl, and Dovev could see her thick black gums hang loosely from her canines, versus a wolf's tight mouth. She looked comical, with her floppy ear and saggy features.

The wolf seemed amused, which meant he wasn't harmful, for now. Roadkill just hoped he'd stay that way. She peered at him while she sank her teeth in the carcass she had found, eager to get her fill before anything might happen, such as the wolf - or another - chasing her away. The wolf even seemed amused about the fact she thought a greeting would've been polite enough, though Roadkill didn't understand why.

"Why? Don't you do good day's over 'ere?" Roadkill's face was stoic as she asked, her question serious; it would be a good thing to know. Not that it mattered much. She wasn't really sure what she was doing here or where she'd go, anyway.

I don't usually greet strangers in this manner, Dovev reminded her, idly swishing his tail. Internally, however, the male was contemplating on whether he'd had enough wordplay with this mutt, and wondering if he wanted her out of his sight. The accent did grate on Dovev's ears, as it came across as being uncultured. But then again, he had encountered true wolves with different tongues and put up with it.

His aforementioned theory on being an uncultured mutt was further reinforced when the scrawny female returned to sloppily ripping open the dead animal. Dovev watched for a moment, her smaller body tugging forcefully at the hide of the deer or whatever it was, trying to pull away the skin towards the meat.

Where did you come from? Dovev reiterated, his eyes beginning to cool. His patience had never been strong, and the frostiness in his breath should be enough of a warning that the male saw no use for chatting up the dog save curiosity. Once he was sated, the arctic male would find a way to dispose of this animal in an effective manner.

Roadkill didn't receive a true answer to her question. She stared at the wolf for a moment, her one ear flopping back and forth indecisively while she took another piece of the carcass. You could never be sure how long someone else was gonna let you eat, after all. Roadkill did not answer when the wolf cryptically mentioned that he didn't usually greet strangers in this manner; she didn't know what on earth he could mean. She just knew he was rude.

Once more he asked where she had come from. Roadkill stopped her feast for a moment and her one, cold left eye stared straight at the wolf. "Last stop before hell, mate." Just as she had told him before. She wasn't sure if this one was dumb in the skull, but wasn't intending to stick 'round to find out. Roadkill turned away from the loony rude wolf and started to run away fast.

last post for me, thanks for the thread. (:

of course!

The dog had turned tail and began to flee, and Dovev remained rooted to his feet. Her squat body waddled, instead of ran, off the snowy ground with her floppy ear and patchy fur. Dovev certainly wouldn't forget what that creature looked like, even if he never had the chance of learning who she was. The smell she had left, however, was pungent and odorous.

His nose prying the ground, Dovev swung his head towards the carcass. The mutt had left quite a mess, as if she had no clue how to appropriately approach a dead meal and carve it up into edible slices. Most of the skin had been shredded and broken bits of bone littered the meat, rendering the kill unappetizing. Even more gaudy was the scent the dog left behind, rancid like sour milk. Dovev would commit the aroma to his mind and vowed to end whatever creature he came across similar to this beast- for they were an abomination on the landscape.