Ouroboros Spine the dominant primordial beast

anyone interested in either obtaining warrior/warden trade.

The leader navigated her way through the land. The nights were much the same now, after the events of some days past. The alpha thought idly of Kodiak, but knew well that if it was not here that he would lead, it was somewhere else. He had been close, very close; there was no coming back from that, no bowing to the will of anyone. Kodiak would likely make his own branch elsewhere, and Tonravik thought of sending a scout, eventually, to find him. They were Tartok, even still. These feuds happened often; it did not weaken their bonds, simply added to them.

But presently, she was more focused on keeping her borders secure. The wolf had found the scat of coyotes and had no interest in them loitering here when her cubs came. For surely they would come. Better to find them now and kill them than delay. It was a lone coyote, she noted. For the most part, the rangy beasts avoided the Spine. Their massacre had sent a good message she could not regret sending. It was for the good of the pack.

Ever since his acceptance into the Spine, Levi had been working hard to learn the way of the pack, to adapt into pack life once more. Patrolling was what he did most often, for a strong pack needed a secure border and there would be no secure border if there were no wolves to patrol it. The scents of his packmates were thick in the air when he made his way to the scent lines, it was good to know that his choice had been a good one. The pack was as strong as he had anticipated them to be, but then they had to be strong, their leader said that they would not tolerate fools after all.

The Roman had been patrolling on the other side when he found his leader, his posture deferential, he chuffed softly to announce his presence, noticing the coyote scat on the ground quickly and what it meant. A lone coyote did not mean too much trouble, but it was better safe than sorry, better to have it gone for good than know it was lingering around but doing nothing because it wasn't in the packlands. That wasn't the way of the Spine wolves anyways, he had learnt that much.

Fresh from her own patrol of the farther reaches, Salamander was returning through the territory, following one of the many paths made by others. As she progressed, the strong scent of her leader - plus one other - wafted through the trees. Salamander paused, raising her head to taste the air and discern their location, and then began to track them. It was easy enough to find the source of those smells, what with the added spice of Tonravik's heat cycle and the mingling of her scent with the golden male's, Kerosene. She could see the dark woman through the trees, but did not immediately seek her out. Instead, Salamander paused to relieve her bladder, and then trotted out from the shadows with a nonchalant lift of her nose towards both her leader, and the male accompanying her. Initially she thought the male was Kerosene - but then she noticed that the stranger's pelt was as dark as pitch, just like Tonravik's. This was someone new.

The leaders lobes flit backward upon hearing the approach of one wolf. One ear swiveled to the right as she heard another. One red, one black, approached her. She heeded them both, turning to the ruddy wolf and moving to drag lazily across the other and then, next, to drag against the dark male. The red one she had sent on a quest, and the other had returned with exactly what Tonravik had sent her out to find–poisons–which were stored protectively away now. Assuming the woman to be rested enough to travel miles to mark, and mark, and mark, she begins forward. 

“There are wolves who seek death, outside. When they come too close, we oblige only that request.” The red one had been around for one incident; she knew that wolves outside were to be put out when it was clear they intended to come in. Tonravik informed the dark male, while pausing to mark.

Diligently, the smoky black wolf rose onto his hind legs, claws and paws scraping the bark of the tree, leaving his scent marks on them. Falling back on four paws, he continued forward, walking just behind his leader. Velvety ebony ears slid forward as his leader spoke, saying that there were wolves who seek death and when they came too close, they would simply fulfil that request. Only that request. The roman nodded, he would be more than happy to help those who came too close with their wishes for to fall into Pluto's embrace.

Lifting a hind leg to spray his scent on a rock, the smoky black whale's thoughts drifted elsewhere for a moment, wondering how his sister was faring alone with those who were born true blooded. Those thoughts were shaken away a moment later, however, for the bastard knew his attention should be focused fully on securing the borders. Kicking some grass with his paws to mark the borders, the Roman lifted his head slightly, his question directed to the black bear. "I didn't catch your name last time," he said, asking for her name.

They shared a glance, but that was that. Salamander continued on with her own business of trailing them, inspecting the terrain, and then the dark one spoke. Both of them spoke, rather. She was attentive to Tonravik and then dismissive of the stranger, although the words he spoke made her sneer in his direction. "Tonravik -" Salamander cut in, answering the dark man's question while actually addressing their leader; showing her dominance of the male with her quick response and clear dismissal of him, "- shall we go and hunt for them?" The invitation hung in the air while Salamander casually slipped around the pair of them, and as she settled nearer to the Alpha, she looked downright eager to hunt down this threat. "Or make a game of it. I am certain I can take down at least three wolves before this one has a chance to taste the blood of one."

As she mentioned the man, she tossed her snout in his direction and looked utterly bored; but her flamboyance was just an act. Meant to rile the stranger, to test him, and get the three of them moving. The promise of battle made Salamander's blood run hot in her veins - but her confidence may be her undoing.

The red-one answered for her, and Tonravik listened to her as she continued on. She could sense the others malevolent nature, and the leader offered her a thoughtful look. And then, the alpha shook her head. "We hunt our prey here," she said decidedly. It worked out, since the mongrels came here so frequently. And if the other wanted to make a game of it? She tilted her head at the others proposition, and looked to the other for a moment.

"We will see," she retorted, enabling the red woman and the dark man both. If any came and smelled of the outside world, they were unwelcome and could be rid of, for all the leader cared. Outside of the Spine was none of her business. Still, "I will not have you go to them. Our prey is here. Our future, here. Their graves, here." They would be as dim and as senseless as their enemy if they did not think their grave may await them in another place should they test their luck. That tawny Plains wolf, who all had smelled after the meeting, could be killed wherever she was found if she could be found near. Something so stupid ought to be killed before it could do more stupid things.

Tonravik side-steps, pausing in her patrol. First she looks to Aupârtok, then to Arverk.

She moved before them and licked her chops. "Spar," she decided, "Do not make one another bleed." There was little point of that. But she wanted to test them against one another, to see their bodies work. To learn of their weakness and to teach them better. If another trespasser was to come, it was best they made as quick work of them as possible. Tonravik would help.

The red one answered for him while sneering in his direction, he ignored her. The bastard was used to worse back in his home pack, he'd gotten used to all the various insults thrown at him, the words did not cut him, nor the gestures and they did not mean anything to him. They bounced harmlessly off the armor he'd built around himself since a young age. The swarthy male watched as she made so settle nearer to the Alpha, noticing how she dismissed him, but he did not speak, instead continued to plod along, keen ears listening as she issued a challenge, saying she was certain she could take down three before he could taste the blood of one.

Arverk's ears flattened instinctively against his skull but otherwise, he made no move nor uttered any word. He was not an impulsive wolf, he had brains and his brains told him to wait for now. Tonravik then sidestepped, her brown gaze drifting from the red female to himself then the black bear moved before them and issued a single command which he was more than happy to oblige. Not harming the other would be hard, but Arverk would obey their leader's command, the discipline the Romans hammered into him would never truly leave.

The black whale set his defenses, his ears already flattened against his skull, snout dipped to protect his vulnerable throat, blue eyes observing her calmly, inviting her to make the first move.

I made a sparring pit thread [url="http://wolf-rpg.com/showthread.php?tid=9729"]here[/url] if you want to do some rolling (although I already screwed up my first roll, lmao). If you don't want to use the pits then we can ignore that thread.

"We will see. The shadowy Alpha responded. It was enough to garner Salamander's interest as well as a bit of her ire; she wanted combat, she wanted blood to be shed, and what better way to enjoy herself than to tear in to an enemy of the Spine? She would always enjoy charging headlong in to battle - this waiting was what bothered her the most. Hopefully a rival pack would sweep in too close for Tonravik's comfort, and soon, so that Salamander could enjoy herself.

But then Tonravik commanded them to spar; and at first, Salamander's mind was preoccupied with thoughts of true combat, so she mistook the command as an order to fight her. After a moment to gather her thoughts and pay better attention, Sal realized that the woman was directing her towards the dark man nearby. He was bracing for a fight already, quick on the uptake, and forming a defensive line with his body.

A grin set itself upon her face - this was what she wanted! A little bit of battle. A taste. And though she would have to try very hard not to spill any blood, she would enjoy this. The man squared off against her but Salamander, in her graceless way, turned and shot towards him with the full intent of throwing him off his own feet. She was not defensive, but wholly offensive; charging and slamming with her shoulder at any part of him she could reach, in order to try and topple his stance.

Just throwing a post in here to close this up! @Arverk one more post from you?

She watched the duo fight. They threw themselves into the task and she watched them both; she noted the red one was not at all defensive, offering any and all of herself to him in particular moves she had made. Tonravik knew that the woman had much to learn. But her attacks, reckless as they were, could be effective. She risked much of herself in it; the alpha female knew she had much to teach her.

Arverk was calmer, and took the storm that was Aupârtok in stride. They were both good fighters, and Tonravik knew she would want to see the duo go at it again in time. When they seemed to reach an impasse, Tonravik growled approvingly to them. There was no blood shed... and the next time this occurred, there would be a clearer victor; they would both practice.

In the meantime, the discussion of prey caused the leader to hunger. She invited them along with a look, turning and sniffing at the earth, seeking a trail.

His opponent, Aupârtok was a reckless fighter. She did not bother with defenses and threw everything she had at him which was her terrible weakness that would ultimately lead to her downfall. Because while her attacks were effective, a wolf who did not properly defend themselves would fall faster than one who knew that defending themselves was just as necessary as giving out attacks. She had much to learn, but the whale appreciated her spirit nonetheless.

Arverk shook his smoky black coat free of debris and inclined his head approvingly towards the red female while flicking his tail in an amiable manner, indicating that he enjoyed their spar before turning towards the dark bear-like female of a leader. He too was hungry from the spar and a good meal sounded good to him.