Blow me away

@Tomahawk

 After going to the hot springs, the dark brute decided he would let the wind carry him to his next destination. There was no particular place he wanted to go. As long as he could discover something new. He found himself enjoying the ol' wandering life. It was less stressful (in a  way) then Pack life. But still, he'd rather spend his time doing something productive for someone rather then sit on his ass all day.

 But when a familiar scent of a border marker wafered in his nose a red flag came up. After his last encounter, he was a bit sour to the idea of coming across any border. He ingnored the feeling. I'll just go around. No way I'm turning back. He started walking a bit faster, eager to get away.

Tomahawk's condition became more and more apparent with the passing days. Her belly was rounder, her feet more sore, and she had begun to feel the slightest movement the night before. She had not felt it since, but they were there. They were alive. Each night, she said a prayer to whatever gods would listen to her, asking for their father to be the coyote and not Lavakho. Perhaps there would be some of each, which would also be acceptable. Rakharo could punish her then, and Lavakho, for their indecency. Their children would be slaughtered, but his gifts would live. More slaves for the master.

A wolf approached, though it was not one that Tomahawk knew. She bristled, hoping that her masters were not far off. She wanted to protect her gifts to the master. They were precious to her. He did not seem as though he was coming inward, though, and so the coyote settled somewhat, golden eyes boring into his retreating form.

 He felt like someone was watching him, making him stop. It sent chills down his spine. He looked around, expecting someone to be there. There was someone there, but it was only a coyote. A visably pregnant one. What was it doing inside a wolf's territory?

 "And to think you where a big bad wolf," he chuckled. It was embarassing to think she was a threat. He could probably rip her to shreads, especially at this state. "I'm no genius, but I don't think a coyote should be on wolf lands."

He spoke, though his words meant little (if anything) to her. Half of what he said made no sense to her, and the other only made it clear that he did not know the Dotharan, their tradition, their culture. Tomahawk said nothing in return. Instead, she stayed where she was, head tilted to one side. It was no use provoking him. If he attempted to hurt her, she had a backup plan that involved a whole pack of wolves. Here, she could call for them at the first sign of anything going wrong.

Sorry for the short post.

 She said nothing. Could coyotes even speak? He had heard about them in the past. They said they where dirty, crafty scavengers. He had seen one dead, but never alive."Can you talk or what?" he called out.

He did not leave, but instead asked questions she'd rather not answer. Tomahawk did not wish to provoke him, nor did she wish to leave the grounds when he was so close to the Dotharan's home. "If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave," she replied curtly. She had no use for wolves outside of Hoshor Plains. These were her masters, and she would call upon them if he failed to heed her warning.

 He tilted his head questionably at the furry creature as she spoke her words. What could that thing possibly do to him? Did she want some sort of death sentence? He didn't know she was a slave to the locals here, so the man was quite confused. "What do you think you can do to me?" Picturing a coyote attacking him was quite comical. It wouldn't end so nicley. "Your a brave little sprite for being here."

I'm calling in a few other players here, but Issun can totally flee if you'd like to avoid trouble. :)

The outsider did not heed her warning. Tomahawk lifted her throat to the sky and called for @Rakharo, who was never far away. Once that was done, she remained standing, not answering the stranger's questions, but also not picking a fight with him. Rakharo would do that, if he wished. Perhaps @Lavakho would come as well. The two were close, Tomahawk knew. There were others among the Dotharan that would come to protect their land from pesky lingering souls.

The summons hadn't been for Lavakho personally, but bearing the circumstances, the bloodfang didn't hesitate to respond to the coyote's call by howling back in warning to whoever had wandered too close.  A howl from the border, nine times out of ten tended to meant trouble for those involved, and Lavakho would be hard-pressed not to aid the possible mother of his children.  Leaving her in the wake of danger would have been an abject oversight to Lavakho's protective and paternal instincts.  As much as he hated to admit it to his brother, he cared for the slave deeply.

Without a word or thought, Lavakho rose from the spot and sprinted across the flatlands in the direction of the coyote's call.  She squared off against a black wolf of large stature, a clear threat to the coyote's pregnant form.  Lavakho barred his teeth and charged at the outsider. Seeing as Lavakho didn't speak the common tongue, words would have been useless anyway.   However, his teeth spoke for him as he took aim at the outsiders neck in the hopes to tear flesh from bone.

A howl rang in the air, calling for him, the Khal, with urgency. It was the slave this time, from the borders of the land and by the sound of it she had come across trouble. Rakharo didn't like the idea of other predators, specially wolves, lurking around his land. It was HIS land, no one else's. He dropped his activities and took off immediately towards the howl source, not howling back but instead trying to be as quick as possible.

But his brother had been quicker. He knew not that his Khasak actually cared about the slave, but he knew that he was keeping a close eye on her as well. He'd heard his response before arriving, which had given him some tranquility, but he was still uncertain of how much of a problem was there at the borders.

It wasn't that much to be honest. A single wolf, black as night, confronting the Coyote alone, and he was already getting a piece of the golden bloodfang. Rakharo entered the scene with a full display of dominance, averything about him made him seem bigger, but he didn't attack. He moved past the coyote and pressed forward with a growl while his brother lunged at the intruder. He would jump in to aid his brother if the other wolf took action.

Two wolves had come to the coyote's howl, which confused the hell out of him. Why? But he had no time to think as one lunged at him. Luckily he moved out the way, getting some of his shoulder flesh scraped by teeth. Like Tomahawk, he didn't want a fight, so he quickly ran away from the borders. While running, he understood the possibility of why the coyote was there. She was a slave.

Issun flees/exits!

Almost immediately after Lavakho and Rakharo arrived, the other wolf got out of dodge (so to speak). Tomahawk said nothing as the brothers protected their land, for she had no clue that Lavakho was just as worried about her as he was Hoshor Plains. If she had known, she would not have understood. She snorted as the retreating figure disappeared into the distance, turning in toward the plains and licking the chin of Rakharo first, followed by Lavakho. A sign of appreciation for their diligence.

"I gave too many warnings; I should have called upon you sooner," Tomahawk admitted.

@Tomahawk if you don't mind making one last post I would like to finish this one for EXP

Lavakho engaged the attack on the intruder, and Rakharo just stood behind him with an agressive posture and dominant body language. His brother was an exelent warrior, some would even compare him to a bear for his strength and size, and Rakharo nwas lucky to have him as his Bloodfang.

Tomahawk admited that she should have called for aid sooner, But Rakharo didn't think it would have been necessary. The timing was perfect, no harm had been done to the land or the herds, and Tomahawk had not received a single scratch.

"You did well, Tomahawk." Rakharo conceded, and allowed the coyote to lick his chin respectfully. He usually called her Zafrak or simply coyote, but lately she had been a good servant, and the Khal was pleased with her.

Her tail wagged excitedly as she licked his chin, the honor almost being too much for her to handle. She knew better than to linger, though, and she regretfully withdrew from him, heady with his scent. Again, flashes of the forbidden tryst with Lavakho danced in her mind, but with Rakharo in his place. She knew such things would never happen—the Khal was too great for them—but the slave could not help herself. He was everything a wolf should be: strong, kind, handsome, and forgiving.

Yellow eyes lingered on him a moment longer before she ripped them away, knowing that her Khal would not appreciate glances that overstayed their welcome. There was nothing left to do, much less say, and so Tomahawk took her leave, rotund abdomen in tow.

Rakharo observed how Lavakho chased the intruder away until their form disappeared down a hill. Lavakho had more than enough control over the situation for Rakharo to even intervene anymore.

Normally, the Dotharan weren't too concerned over intruders because they didn't really have a specific claim over a land. They were nomads, wanderers, and their land was wherever their paws touched the ground. That they would protect with their lives. But this place was different. And the rules had changed.

Rakharo knew that there were too many packs around him, and it was not comfortable. He needed to be cautious with how close other wolves got to his Khalas or the herds, because if they wished, any pack around him could strike and take away everything from the Dotharan. It wouldn't happen without a badass fight, of course, but it was a risk they were running.