The Heartwood thief

Before expressing further interest in Scarlett and her merry band of bears, Boone had kept to the southwest region of Teekon, perhaps in genial search of Luke. It wasn't a goal of his, really, but he found the mere idea of running into him a pleasant enough thought to keep it in the back of his head. Only a sour wolf wouldn't be able to get along with the singing Bluenose, he mused; but these days Boone thought he might seek companionship from anyone, regardless of their personality. He was just that damn lonely.

The doggish wolf trotted on without knowing exactly where he was headed. A vague grumbling in his stomach warned him of impending fatigue if he didn't find himself something to eat, so he began to focus on this task instead. Unfortunately, the sun was setting and twilight would be upon him in the next hour or so -- he wondered if he'd missed his chance for a fluffy rabbit, which was what his taste buds craved at present.

He resumed his tracking after parting ways with Luke, the male's unique face fading into the background as he focused on the task at hand. He followed the winding creek north, walking against the current as he made his way toward the familiar woodland in the distance. Peregrine glanced at the sky, gauging the hour. If he didn't make a kill soon, he would be forced to turn back and go home empty-handed, which he hated to do.

The dark wolf passed beneath the scanty branches of the Heartwood, pausing to sniff the air, then drop his head to the ground to begin combing the forest floor. As he walked deeper into the forest, he caught sight of something white flashing between the trees and he froze, muscles tense. The wind did not blow in his favor, so he had no way to identify the animal as fellow predator or prey. All he could do was attempt pursuit.

Peregrine hastened his step, feeling decidedly like he was chasing ghosts as his dusky jade eyes scanned the shadowy timberland, ears pressing forward in the hopes of capturing retreating footfalls...

Boone knew very clearly what it was liked to be chased, to be hunted, like the prey he sought. It started as a warning tingle at the base of his spine until it was sending alarming triggers up to the spot between his shoulders, and all the hair along there would be standing on end. The feeling was eerie to him now, a faint memory because he had not felt it in so long -- years, he imagined. But felt it he did, and there was no mistaking it with anything else.

The wolfdog whirled about, his wire-tail ramrod and with his ears back, lips pulled loosely over his teeth. Defensive, if nothing else. "You chasin' me, pal, I'ma tell you jus' once that I ain't here to 'cause no trouble, but I ain't no pussycat neither," he growled, his tone less formal when he was agitated, and he lowered his grayish nose in readiness for a fight.

He got more than he bargained for when a gruff voice addressed him. All of a sudden, Peregrine was practically on top of a pale, sneering wolf, though he hastily backpedaled to avoid impact. His ears thrust forward and he prickled at the other's tone, though he supposed he'd earned that warning. He hadn't realized he was chasing a wolf... was this guy even a wolf? He looked different somehow.

"I wasn't trying to," he replied evenly. "I just saw a flash, so I followed it... and found you." Peregrine paused, further scrutinizing the cream figure. Maybe he was a hybrid, like Jaws, though he didn't resemble any coyote he had ever seen. "Clearly," he continued, "you're not suitable prey."

His eyes glimmered a bit mirthfully as he took a few more steps back, indicating to the pale stranger that he not only didn't mean harm, he wasn't particularly interested in a conversation either. He had a mate and pups back at the caldera, waiting to bring home the bacon, and Peregrine did not want to disappoint them. And time was running out.

Upon closer inspection (or rather the immediate dismissal of conflict) Boone realized a mistake had been made before explanation was given. He stood back, stiffened into a crooked position, but he relaxed at the dark wolf's words. He dropped his two-toned golds briefly, and gave himself a fierce shake that went from nose to tail-tip. His spine was flat at the end of it, and the dust-white wolfdog tipped his nose upwards at the stranger.

"You was huntin' 'round for prey?" he asked on the offhand chance that a pack wolf would hunt and share spoils with a roundabout loner. "Two sets a'teeth is better than one." He raised a brow at the male, wondering at the prospect between them but not expectant of it.

They seemed to have reached an understanding and the situation would not escalate. Peregrine watched the strange wolf shake himself out of the corner of his eye, as he was already turning to leave. But the hybrid's (if that's what he was) words arrested him and he slowly turned back to face him.

Lips pursed, he said simply, "I don't hunt with wolves outside my pack." He licked his chops, then added, "Although if you hunt for me and succeed, I could offer you a spot in my pack in exchange. Then we could hunt together... you know, next time," Peregrine said a bit coyly.

Boone was ready to take the male's initial words as they were. Fair enough, he thought, and lifted a forepaw to be on his own way in turn; but no definitive motion was taken before the dusky wolf spoke again. The hybrid put his foot back down and gave the stranger a bemused snort. "If you think I'm lookin' to audition for you an' your fuckin' band of merry men, then you got another thang comin' mister." He curled his lip, but he wasn't such a fool to think that dismissing such a strapping (and presently accommodating) wolf would be advantageous to his effect. 

If he wanted a full belly rather than rummaging around for something lighter to catch, then scuttling off now on his own wouldn't do him any good; and Boone always knew the best techniques in fishing for bigger fish to fry. "My offer stands as is, partner. You gonna go on an' one-gun it, or do ya want a second pistol in your pocket?" Good ol' southern boys and their sayings.

He hadn't been serious, though it was taken that way. Peregrine's jade eyes grew flinty at the response. He immediately judged the stranger as too prideful to earn a space in the caldera. He would not renew the offer, jokingly or otherwise.

"I told you, I don't hunt with wolves outside my pack," he repeated. He had inherited this preference from his mother and had never seen a reason to make an exception. "I'm the Alpha and Master Gamekeeper of my very successful 'fuckin' band of merry men.' Tell me: do you really think I need your help, 'partner'?" His expression remained blank as he stared at the other male, eyes boring into him.

Boone perhaps always thought he was being played in some way, which had led this opportunistic event to go awry somehow. He had no one to blame but himself, really, but he realized at the male's last words that he was being mocked as a conscious individual. In his youth he would have undoubtedly been offended; these days, Boone was not as prone to verbal dissonance.

"No," he answered immediately. "Opposite, partner. I was lookin' to have your help." It was honest enough, and Boone wasn't the type to ignore opportunity. "I thought at first that you shoulda just brought one of your lackeys along if you wanted someone to hunt for you. I kin see now that you jus' ain't about that stranger-danger life," he commented, not insultingly this time. Boone shook his head and blinked slowly, unperturbed by the Alpha's lingering stare, but he didn't see himself getting any closer to a decent meal with this guy's assistance.

He thought it was strange anyway for someone to want to be hunted for but not with in regards to a stranger; did he not want to pull his own weight and better their chances on a bigger meal as one? But he supposed helping a loner get any sort of sustenance, or sharing with one, was against the male's "code" or summat.

Boone was confused, but he could also be daft so he didn't try to know which one of them was being a fool here. It could have very well been him, after all. But in the end of things he wasn't judgmental in that way. "If you was scared, that's all you had t'say." The hybrid shrugged, turning his head west. "You have a nice night." A typical cowboy head tilt followed, and then he chose to continue in the direction he had originally been going, picking up again and re-following a stale trail of rabbit as he went.

The other wolf did not quaver beneath Peregrine's heavy stare, speaking in an easy, unaffected southern drawl. He almost felt he'd made a mistake in his snap judgment, though he was too stubborn to admit it, even to himself. This same stubbornness of spirit made him hold his tongue at the strange remark about being scared, though as the pale beast began to retreat away into the forest, Peregrine broke character and called out after him. He couldn't help himself.

"What do you mean, 'if you was scared'? I legit don't know what that means. Scared of what?" Unsure whether the other canine would acknowledge him or simply continue on his way, Peregrine paused for a moment, puzzled, vaguely annoyed and muttering under his breath.

Boone held up despite his better judgement. Forepaw midair, he checked over his shoulder before decidedly turning slightly so that both of his separately gold eyes could take in the haughty male with mild amusement. "Why... scared of bein' showed up by some dusty-booted lone cowboy o'course. Y'wouldn't want that on your mighty repertoire, huh mister Alpha Gamemaster or whatever names y'all like callin' eachother." The dog smirked as he slow-talked his way into a decidedly better mood, wagging his wiry tail slightly.

If this wasn't going to be a physical altercation, then he had no reason to act as defensive as before. This was just some home-titled king, he had no reason to strike away from home. "Ain't no shame, pops. Don't hold up on my account," he further teased, nodding his broad, faintly scarred muzzle towards the wolf in a less-than-serious display of  dismissal.

The ghostly canine did pause and turn to answer him, though Peregrine wasn't sure what to make of the response. It sort of got under his skin, though he refused to rise to the bait and said as much: "That isn't going to work on me." He was confident in his skills that he didn't feel the need to demonstrate for some random loner.

"I won't," he said, quirking a brow and shrugging a shoulder before turning pointedly. The other guy seemed to be toying with him, which was harmless enough, but one glance at the sky reminded Peregrine that there was no time for this crap. Without a backward glance, he loped away into the woods, heading in the direction of the caldera but hoping he would come across some prey on his way back.