Redhawk Caldera a fatal failure

For whoever wants to see Jaws die :P

Jaws had been keeping to himself, patrolling the borders and stocking the cache with rabbits, mice, squirrels, and other small game, but his eyes now were set on a small cluster of elk just within the boundaries of the pack near the lake. With the pups growing the pack needed more food, and although he knew his offerings of small game were appreciated and no one seemed to have any problem with them, he also knew such fare was more befitting a coyote than a wolf. If he were to be a pack wolf he would have to learn to take larger game, and although he was not so foolish to think he could take a healthy adult elk, his bi-colored eyes fixated on one of their calves. If he could take the calf, it would be a significant contribution toward keeping the pack fed.

The coywolf studied his prey, counting just three adult cows and two calves in the group. One of the cows, head down and feeding, started to wander from the other cows, her calf following along. A smarter wolf might have called for the aid of his pack, to take advantage of strength in numbers as was the key to a wolf pack's success; but Jaws was inexperienced and wholly accustomed to doing things on his own, and his confidence in skillfully taking other game had lead him to believe he could find a way to take the calf on his own. The coywolf saw his chance when the calf walked away from his mother, putting just enough distance between itself and its mother that Jaws figured he could make a kill or maim it enough to take it later, before the cow had a chance to react.

With the wind in his favor he stole down through the brush, and when he neared enough, he sprung forward in an all-out dash, closing in on the calf quickly. But Jaws had not counted on what he could not see: the herd's guardian bull, just out of sight from where he had been, and just a few paces from the calf. The patriarch met him with full force before he reached the calf, its long tines piercing his side and crushing his ribs with the blow. Jaws was sent sprawling, somersaulting, his painful howl echoed through the trees. As the coywolf tried to gather his legs beneath him when his tumbling body stopped, the bull put him down again with a savage stomp.

And there he stayed, struggling to breathe and maintain consciousness as the herd moved away. He was bleeding internally, with a shattered back and broken ribs. There would be no getting up from this. His life was ebbing away, though he stubbornly hung on for now. His gray jay had been watching from the trees, and descended next to him, chirping frantically.

crappy work post

She had heard the howl from afar. Tiger, in a panic, moved headlong into a sprint to meet him. She had been too far to ever be of any use from the get go, but close enough to find him breathing. "Shit, shit," and she threw her head up and called loudly for a leader: Urgent, you're needed, now. Tiger knew she should just kill him. He was a dead man. Right now he might feel no pain, due to the adrenaline, but she did not care.

"If you want me to kill you now," she breathes to him, the one male here who she had ever been intimate, the one male who she would never in a billion years want to see like this, "I... say yes? Can you talk?" Fuck, she'd never seen anything like this before. Her stomach twisted. She needed direction, she needed a leader.

Two howls rang out in quick succession, though they were distinctly different -- the first was one of a wolf in pain, and the second a cry for help. Elwood was already en route when Tiger's call went up, and it only urged him to race faster down the caldera's slope. Had he not familiarized himself with its uneven terrain over the last few months, he likely would have gone toppling tip over tail down the mountainside; somehow, though, he managed to keep his balance, his paws flying over the rocky surface until he reached level ground.

He saw Tiger first, and his gaze flew to the dark figure slumped over next to her. As soon as the pungent smell of blood hit him, he realized it was Jaws. His heart wrenched; he wasn't particularly close to the coywolf, but he was a packmate all the same. Skidding to a halt next to Finley's sister, Elwood bit his lower lip hard as he surveyed the scene.

His knowledge of medicine was limited -- extremely limited -- but he could tell that Jaws was losing a lot of blood. The black wolf's spine was curved at an unnatural angle and Elwood's heart sank. There was little that anyone could do for him. He hadn't heard Tiger's whispered offer to Jaws before he arrived, but a whine slipped past the Beta's lips as he looked to the striped female.

Jaws feebly reached for his jay, intent to shoo him off knowing that within minutes his feathered companion would be on his own, but he hadn't the strength to make the flicking gesture needed to send the bird off. As he tried to speak his voice cracked and became a cough. The bird peeped and hopped lightly about him, standing on his muzzle once, but even though it was concerned for him its wary attention never missed the sound of an approaching packmate, who no doubt had heard his pain-wracked howls. It was only then did the bird fly to the trees, and there it remained in silence as Tiger approached.

In his flickering conscious, the coywolf barely registered the words that were spoke to him, and was only dimly aware which packmate had arrived at his side. Again he tried to speak, but instead a spluttering cough that spat blood onto the ground shook his once powerful, now broken body. Elwood soon joined Tiger, and with the last of his conscious Jaws' bi-colored gaze looked to each of them. He had a moment of clarity, recognizing them both as he would have on any other day, and he swallowed. "Sorry guys," he managed to say in a hoarse and hushed voice and the slightest roguish grin formed for a second on his lips, his humor with him even in the last moments, "can't stay."

Another cough overtook him and his eyes closed for the final time as he drifted into unconsciousness. In the following minutes, his beleaguered breaths would come at longer and longer intervals, until not another one was drawn and the coywolf lay still. The gray jay would sit vigil for several hours hidden among the branches of the trees, and then it would be gone back into the pack territory, to what end no one knew.

Tiger heard the gurgling, the strange, terrible breathing, all signs pointing to not right. But she couldn't bring herself to put him out of his misery, and stared glassy-eyed at the dark male dying. Elwood was the only one to respond, and she herself gurgled nonsensically, her eyes wild and her heart hammering. She heard the whisper of Jaws joke and her head jolted in his direction.

"Hey!!" She whimpers, and then his eyes close, and don't open again. His breathing... she could tell he was drifting further and further away, and she sunk into herself. She couldn't even talk. How utterly useless. Having no direction to go in here, she looked to Elwood for some leadership. What do I do???

Even in the throes of death, Jaws managed to find humor in the situation. It was a weak, wry smile that tugged at Elwood's lips, and it vanished just as soon as Jaws' eyelids slipped shut. Tiger's distress was palpable, and he bit down on his lower lip and leaned into her, providing nonverbal support for his sister-in-law. He didn't know the extent of her friendship with Jaws, but it seemed as though they were at least somewhat acquainted.

Jaws wasn't the first packmate to pass away during Elwood's time at the caldera, and he surely wouldn't be the last. But that didn't make it any easier. There was a heavy silence as the two wolves quietly mourned their fallen comrade, and then Elwood finally murmured, "Goodbye, Jaws." They would need to do something with the body, but it was evident that Tiger wasn't ready for that just yet. He would give her all the time she needed before howling the news to the rest of the pack or suggesting that they bury the body.

She felt weak. Really weak. Her legs felt like jello. She looked upon the dead form of Jaws, at a total loss. She had really liked him, even despite how little a time she'd known him. He was candid, honest, and they hit it off in the best of ways, a reciprocal flirtation there that she would really fucking miss. Granted it was twice, but, it could've been more! He had so much more time left to live...

Her hind legs gave, and she fell onto her rump as she looked at the dead body, glass-eyed. Her breathing was short and she did not think of calming herself down. It was so horrible to look at. She didn't want to see it anymore. But she couldn't look away.

We can each post once more after this to get it to 10? :)

Elwood only looked away from Jaws' mangled body when Tiger fell to her haunches next to him. He shifted his gaze to her face, taking in the shocked and sorrowful expression. He reached out to nudge her shoulder gently in an attempt to provide some comfort, although he knew that in the face of such a loss it would be hard to move on.

He kept his golden eyes focused on her, waiting until she showed a sign that she was ready to leave. He had already decided that he wouldn't ask her to help with a burial; it was obvious that she was in too much distress.

She wanted to leave, but couldn't. It took her a good while, an hour or five (time, right?) to be able to do much of anything. Elwood sat with her as she grieved emptily. It took some convincing to move her away, but she'd not have moved otherwise. Time and space was void; it was as though if she stayed a little longer... he'd come back to live, and they'd have another go. But it was not to be. She readied herself to leave, but looked back a thousand more times as though something might betray his death, that he might be really alive. Somehow.

He wasn't sure how long he sat with Tiger, next to Jaws' prone corpse, but it didn't matter. His agenda had cleared the moment he knew Jaws was in distress. Only when his sister-in-law stood and prepared herself to go did he move, standing and stretching his muscles before tackling the task at hand. He waited until Tiger was out of sight -- which took a few minutes, since she kept looking back over her shoulder -- and then he grasped Jaws by the scruff and began to pull him.

It was a laborious task, and it took plenty of time, but he eventually managed to drag the body to a small thicket. The underbrush grew densely here, and he knew the earth was soft. Digging was a chore, but he thought of other things to pass the minutes. Only once he was satisfied with Jaws' burial -- and that scavengers wouldn't easily be able to pick at his bones -- did he turn away and lift his muzzle to the sky.

He then howled the news, informing the caldera of their packmate's death. Sorrow settled heavily over him like a blanket, and he retired to his den to talk with Finley and sleep away the events of that day.