Broken Timber Pines This Hurts Me More Than It Will Ever Hurt You

For @Seven

He wasn’t one to admit defeat. Not when he had enough pride to serve an entire army and grew up never understanding the concept of failure. But it had been six days since he last got into a fight and it had been one month since his mom kicked him out. He was no closer to the mountains than he was when he first got there, and it wasn’t like he didn’t try. He had tried his absolute best at every corner and turn but assholes and psychos alike had the nasty little habit of running out of the woodwork to attack him whenever they found him.

His own inability to reach and scale a mountain obviously wasn’t his fault—it was everyone else’s. They were the ones being annoying and disrespectful.

If he could he would have made a face. Scowled or sneered at the air like the child he was. But exhaustion tugged at his body and his thoughts weren’t what they usually were. There was a headache pulsing and throbbing behind his eyes. His body was burning and his tongue leaden. Every movement was agony to the side where his front leg met his body.

He wanted to sleep. Hide somewhere nobody would find him until the feeling passed and he felt whole. Like hell was he letting his parents find him when he was sick and weak. He could already imagine his dad lecturing him like it was his fault for getting into fights while his mom laughed and asked whether or not they beat some sense into him.

His paws stumbled to a halt. He regarded the area without seeing it. There were fallen trees and nothing but the trickle of moving water. It might as well have been a good enough hiding spot. And with trembling slowness—Daighre crawled into the depths of shadow and wet air hidden between ground and broken timber. The snow was cold. Too cold against his body which didn’t make any damn sense because he swore he was burning up just a few seconds ago.

But with his vision swimming and mind clouded he wasn’t sure anymore.

The yearling tried to stay busy as much as possible. Tending to the borders, making sure the caches were full, keeping to himself… being a good pack wolf. He didn’t want to upset Askan or make his older cousin regret his decision in allowing him to stay. So he kept his head down, minded his own, and did as he was told. He also used hunting as an excuse to patrol the neighbouring territories for his siblings, for they were still missing. He couldn’t help but worry. They were in unfamiliar territory with unfamiliar faces—what was he supposed to think? He just hoped they were still together, no matter where they were.

With a rabbit dangling from his peppered jowls Seven began his trek back to the shallows. He was still getting used to the terrain in the forest, for he was more accustom to the tundra in the north. Flat territory. Not this mess of trees that made it difficult for the peppered yearling to navigate. He was getting better—slowly but surely. Becoming a real feral wolf. His mother would be so proud.

However, as he worked his way through the labyrinth of fallen trees, the scent of another pulled him away from his task. He stopped, a paw raised on a log as he started to clamber over it, his brows knitted together as he surveyed the area. It was strong here, but he couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. He frowned around the still-warm rabbit hanging from his mouth as he continued making his way over the log. However, as he landed, the scent exploded and he spun around to be greeted by an ivory wolf folded between the log and the ground. His scampered back, away from the stranger. The rabbit fell from his mouth as he observed the blonde loner, his expression tight with concern. Uh, he started as he struggled to find his voice, s-sorry to bother you! But, um, y’can have that. Looks like y’need it more than me. The blonde male looked like he was half alive; Seven could find another meal on the way back. 

A young deer has been separated from the rest of its herd. Hunt Opportunity

Warning for strong language.

There were a few peaceful seconds where everything was silent. He could hear the quiet gurgle of thawing rivers and moving water. His breathing was harsh and jagged in his lungs but that was okay. He was somewhere alone and secluded. And he wouldn’t call it safe—not when the entire forest was overrun with the stupid and insane—but it was close enough and that’s all he needed for a few days before the infection and fever passed. That’s what he thought. That’s what he hoped for.

But nothing in life was ever as easy or simple as Daighre wanted it to be.

The fallen tree overhead shifted and groaned. Bark splintered and cracked, wood creaked, and the sound of muffled paws echoed and reverberated into the space he was hiding in. His body tensed and he froze where he lay. Because maybe if he stayed still the stranger would pass over him. Wouldn’t even notice he was there because everyone he met was an obnoxious combination of blind and stupid and the stranger up above probably wouldn’t be much different. And it was then—and only then—did the stranger in question drop down from the timber overhead and into view.

“Shit.” He barked and proceeded to launch to his feet. Or rather—that was the plan. But since when did anything go to plan? His head and back collided with jagged bark and solid wood. “Fuck.” He hissed because he was trapped. Trapped like some kind of wounded animal and everything felt a little too much like losing and dying for his liking. The stranger was talking. Stuttering like an idiot and his instincts were screaming for him to run while his body screamed in agony. His hackles raised and his jaws parted in a desperate growl. There was nowhere for him to go except backwards, deeper into the den. When he moved to press his hindquarters against the dirt wall his vision swam and there were a few sickening questions where he questioned whether or not he would pass out.

The dumbass before him was still flapping their lips and it took a few seconds of his gaze jumping from rabbit to wolf before his thoughts kicked into action. Were they pitying him? Acting like he was a wounded animal that needed their help? Disgust and hatred bubbled up within him and he snarled. He would rather die than accept help from disgusting nobodies. Now if he could just put that thought into words—

“Fuck off.” He barked and it would have to do because his thoughts were lagging behind his mouth. His ears were pressed back against his skull and his body was tensed with his hackles raised. "Just—" Leave. “I don’t need your fucking pity.” And that was supposed to be intimidating. Threatening. But his voice cracked and his body trembled.

sorry for the short post <3

The yearling stumbled back at the miserable greeting he’d received from the ivory stranger, his ears quickly folding against his skull. The stranger didn’t look much older than him, maybe even younger, but it was hard to tell. Despite the venom that dripped from the loner’s tongue he did not remove himself from his secluded den, much to Seven’s relief. He was an observer and a runner; the nervous yearling did not do fighting. Back on the reserve there was no fighting. Everyone, for the most part, lived in harmony. Disputes were settled diplomatically, not with tooth or claw.

He blinked, dumbfounded by the male’s abrasive words. Clearly the ivory yearling wanted nothing do with him, or his rabbit, but Seven was too kind to just leave. He wouldn’t take the rabbit with him—the ivory grump needed it more, even if he didn’t want any of Seven’s pity. The muddy-eyed Selwyn was positive once he left the scrawny loner would gobble up the meal.

For once, the boy wasn’t scared. The loner’s voice had cracked as he spoke, clearly a sign of weakness, but Seven didn’t want to let his guard down completely. Although the blonde teen looked like he was on the verge of passing out the Selwyn didn’t doubt the strength of a wolf cornered. If he felt threatened there was no doubt in Seven’s mind that the blonde youth would attack. Maintaining his distance Seven offered a sharp shrug in response before answering verbally, a bleak frown etched across his dark features as he spoke. Whatever. You still n-need it more than me, even if y’don’t want it. He didn’t want to risk getting close to the loner to retrieve the rabbit. He could catch another one on his way back to the shallows.

(This post was last modified: Mar 06, 2018, 01:16 AM by Seven.)