Drooping Willows bwp: our time has gotten stale

Morg's words seem to be on reverb in the man's brain.
He stands for a moment, allowing himself to nod as he casts a glance toward Sven.
His eyes give off a trusting glance; the younger wolf would be watching the boar
as they chased off the intruding wolf. Without further ado, the dark woman is off,
sprinting hastily after the agouti pest. With a grunt, Pickerel turns on heel, chasing
off behind the leadess. His paws pound the cold earth as he tears along, his sunset-hued
eyes gluing themselves onto the hairy beast that rumbled after the target wolf.

A bit of concern washes over the russet man- what if this plan went to shit? It was
possible the boar would turn and begin attacking them instead of the wolf it was currently
on the tail of. Pickerel tries thinking out the many possibilities, but such began to over-
whelm him. Instead, he decides to think in the moment. His breathing grows heavy as
they near the wolf and beast; he was on edge. Pickerel knew Morganna wanted to sink
her teeth into the hide of the wolf before them. Pike brings himself along Morg's side to
shield her from the boar. He'd allow her to get her attacks in whilst he guarded her
from any possible attacks from the tusked creature.

His eyes strain as he peers toward his side to observe the stocky beast in greater detail.
The hair on it seemed bristly, its tusks like large overgrown teeth. His brows furrow
in disgust before he allows his dark lips to rise, baring his ebon toned fangs.

SVEN ARCHER

& the night is closing in

A low growl of agreeance leaked from his throat as Morganna addressed Pickerel, deciding Peirus' fate. Sven may have ultimately come out on top, but only because his aunt had come to his rescue. If he'd been left alone with the brute, he might be dead now, and that Peirus had maintained such an advantage over him angered the boy enough to find satisfaction in the possibility of his demise. Yet as he prepared himself to join the hunt of a kindred creature, Morganna spoke again, directing him elsewhere. A scowl of disapproval crossed over his faces, the youngster being easy to read, but he did not voice a single syllable of dissen, willing to obey his aunt even if it took the taste of vengeance away from his own tongue.

As they rushed forward he followed them an appropriate amount of lengths, stopping when he found a proper vantage point. Now with every pawn within view, he began to feel tendrils of doubt trying to weave their way up his legs. That thing chasing down Peirus was huge, and Sven acknowledged that this situation was actually very dangerous. It made it all the much harder to stand still, especially with the proximity quickly gained between them all. Would he really be any help? If the pig turned on them, he wasn't so certain his voice would reach them faster than those bony things protruding from its face would, much less giving them enough time to react and defend themselves.

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The great brute grunted ferociously as he ran, his beady eyes narrowed and focused on Peirus. The canine was slowing, his hind leg beginning to drag. Augustus grinned wickedly as he barreled down upon the poor creature who had been so stupid as to cross his path. But before his tusks could make contact, the wolf leaped to the side and to safety. The boar rumbled on by, his hooves making the ground shake as he swept by Peirus, unable to stop his own momentum in time to pursue. He raged on by, leaving both @Peirus and @Morganna in his wake.

As his brain processed what happened and he slowed to a stop, he whipped his head around to look at the wolves. The female was not pursuing him, but rather the loner that Augustus himself had been chasing. He snorted in contempt. Too stupid to cooperate, he thought once more. Looking beyond those two though, he caught the movements of others. No longer just two wolves, but four. One of which was standing determinedly between himself and the female. Pack mates. He took a step backwards, moving towards the woods, his tusks looming out like warning daggers in front of him. That's too many, he decided. On their own, he would have had no problem driving them off and continuing to root around. But now he was dealing with a pack, and that was ranked high on his "things to do" list.

With one last warning growl, the boar bared ducked his head and tossed it, jabbing his tusks towards the wolves. Then he turned tail and hustled into the safety of the trees, moving as fast as his stocky legs and heavy weight would allow him, hopefully leaving the squabbling wolves behind.

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