The claws had left long, thin gouges down the bridge of his muzzle and into the black flesh of his nose. He had been cut in a number of other minor places, but the fur covered it up, and he would heal easy enough. He only bled from the worst wounds, his nose among them. He was aware of the wounds, but didn't truly feel them. Pain had never affected him like it did other creatures, but that was not all. The thrill of victory was a sweet, sweet tonic.

Sides heaving as he panted, he dropped the bobcat to the ground, its throat and chest a bloody wreck, its teeth bared and eyes wide with anger and fright even in death. It fell with a dull thud, now no more than dead weight, and he sniffed idly at it, poking it with his bleeding nose as though they had not just been engaged in vicious battle moments before. Whether or not he would eat it remained undecided. It was not entirely customary to eat another predator, for the flavour was unpleasant, and there was something altogether unsatisfying about them as compared to a good ungulate. But the cold was coming - the snow which lay all around them was testament to that, its pristine coating ruined by their fight - and being picky was not conducive to survival. Perhaps he would eat it. For now, he simply wanted to enjoy the moment.

Raising his lip at the corpse and growling softly at it, jeering its loss, he peered about and licked at his lips, half-heartedly cleaning the blood there - his own as well as the bobcat's, for it had bitten and tugged at his jowl as well. Ever since having to step into the vacuum left behind by Indru, he had been tense, more tense than usual, though he tried to hide it. It would not do to have an uncomfortable leader; who would respect him then, and, by extension, Corinna? He absolutely would not allow his situation to encourage discord or unrest against her. If his taking on the male leadership was what she wanted, what she needed, then he simply had to put up with it.

It's partly why he didn't simply chase the cat away when he found it slinking by his lands a little too brazenly. The pups were not old enough to defend themselves, but their safety was only part of why he antagonised the bobcat and grabbed it by the leg and didn't let go, forcing it to fight for its life. He had needed the rush, the release. It had been therapeutic to efficiently destroy a rival creature, because it was a danger, but also because he could. If nothing else, he would not be a leader to let Swift River be easily threatened, not so long as he breathed. Diplomacy, wisdom, charisma, Corinna could have those. Marsh was not an inspiring leader, not in that sense. But he would devour their enemies and put out their eyes, and he would do it eagerly.

Turning to the river, his home and territory just on the other side, he dipped his head and drank, letting the water flow carry the fresh blood away. The rest would clot and mat or come away in the rain, or would easily be lost each time he waded through the river. For now he would let the marks be, and take pride in them.

          Notoriously nocturnal in the past, the D'Oliva resorted to coming to life (or more like thawing her soul awake) with the rising sun. Suffering from the beginning phases of malnutrition and having lost a considerable amount of body mass for even as small statured as she, her strategy was to move in the daylight. As cold as it still was in these regions of Canada during this season, the sunlight helped tremendously with keeping her somewhat insulated in her own fur. Traveling for what was hundreds of unmarked, undocumented miles now from the far North, Ecco was following the path of the sun. Typically the dark she-wolf went from East to West, following the sun in tow to its sunset. In this instance, Ecco decided to detour slightly Northeast from the Drooping Willows, following the sunrise instead. It was an act of spontaneity, not to mention the metallic tinge of what smelled like freshly draw blood upon the breeze.


          In the manner of a shark smelling the first drop of blood in an endless ocean, one never really realized how sensitive the nose was when you went weeks without a decent meal. The smell of water and aquatics also allured her senses, but was more drawn to the scent of blood and instantly her jowls salivated. Instead of following the sunrise, Ecco was following the scent trail of the blood. Her paw falls picked up in a crescendo toward the source, her tongue feverish upon her leathery lips. Reduced to almost something of a vulture of the wolfish kind, Ecco was truly a scavenger in every sense of the word. Besides from the occasional snacks of rodents that really weren't much to eat at all, Ecco took what she could from leftovers of other carnivores, given the opportunity was in her favor.


          Given there was the intermission of a heavy scent of a pack on the breeze as she grew closer to the dovetail of what would be Swift River, her instincts focused more on the delicious aroma of spilled life more so than the warning heeding ahead. Hearing the rush of water, Ecco came upon the scene finally, licking her lips frantically again and swallowing the accumulation of saliva that formed.


          A medium form of a mixture of tan, gray, and auburn was hunched over the river, satiating himself of thirst after his kill (clearly). Her amber eyes trailed to the fallen body beside him, and studying it from her distance... clearly wasn't a caribou, white-tailed deer, or any species bearing horns. A predator like them, a Bobcat from what Ecco could discern from the blooded, spotted coat of the dead feline. Eating other predators in the wild was a controversial topic amongst some who found it unethical or just distasteful, but if anything, Ecco felt her hunger gnawing at the sight. Predator or not, it was a fresh kill. It was meat. It was meat that was of substance, unlike some ratty chipmunks. Swallowing again, it was difficult to keep manners in the presence of the male. A strong scent wafted from him, surrounding him. Must have been teetering on the edge of pack territory.


          Standing out in the cold, shivering like a starved child didn't work in the universe of canines. Her amber eyes told of doubt knowing there was good chance it was for his pack and not some straggled loner. Some packs were generous, some were not, and Ecco might have been willing to gamble with the odds on that in this instance. With no reaction or statement made in particular, Ecco hovered in her place like a vulture from the distance, eyeing the maimed Bobcat with hungry, saddened eyes. Maybe if he had his fill, she could pick away at leftover bones later.

Quietly he lapped at the water, dipping his muzzle in to the brow at one point to feel the cold sting of it in his wounds, to help the blood wash away. Though pain did not slow him, he felt in, in a way, and in times like this it was only a hearty feeling. It meant he was alive, after all.

It was after he had pulled his snout out of the water again did the sound of somebody breathing nearby finally reach his ears; previously, they had been full of running water. Adrenaline still sweeping through his body from the fight, his hackles rose without thought, and he turned his head back, lip pulled back over still-bloodied teeth, to see a small, young female stood in the shadows, looking morose and hungry. With a strange casualness, he noted her subtly foreign features, hints that she was far from home. So was he, though.

His tail curled up above him, for there was no real difference between being on this side of the river and that, save for the fact that had she crept up on him on the other side, he would have already been seeking her blood. Close as she was, boundaries had not yet been crossed, and indeed, he imagined that it was the corpse which had drawn her close. He could remember what it was like, being alone and hungry. He had been a keen scavenger in those times. Had he stood in her place, he would have tried to steal the cat, or at least a bite.

That didn't mean he was going to give it to her.

Softly he growled, turning towards her with a step, glancing between the dead bobcat and her black face, almost daring her to try. The bobcat had been a fine foe, but maybe a second round was in order...? He could draw all the nearby predators to him with an increasing pile of fresh bodies, and he would slaughter them all until one finished him.

No, no, he had responsibilities, a pack to watch over. The heat in his blood would have to be quiet. They needed him yet.

So what to do with a young bitch who was far from home but a little bit too close to his? Perhaps she would make the decision for him. His manner heated and aggressive, he watched, wondering, hoping. If she helped him to sate his own hunger... perhaps he could return the favour. Corinna's daughters were not desperate enough to eat cat, after all.

          From her distance Ecco couldn't see to trace the long, fine outline of feline claws that punctured all the way down to his nose. Her nose quivered at the waft of blood elsewhere, coming from him. It was masculine, strictly canine, and spotty in smell; nowhere near as overwhelming as the pool of blood oozing from the remnants of the Bobcat. This meant a possibility of himself getting wounded in the process, but Ecco was too far to tell for sure, or they were relatively minor. Coming up from the river, he finally noticed her. His gaze was like ice to her watching in a dead stare, even as far away as they were. Tail raised to its full staff, and his figure was too telling in the canine world that he displayed dominance and bragging rights of size, arrogance, masculinity, and the pack he was with.


          There was no way Ecco could have strategized getting a nip or even dragging the Bobcat away for her own victory without getting chewed into two. Clearly he could overpower her with no effort if he truly wanted, she was skin, bones, and fur at this rate. The thought entertained her darkly she might not even be a better kill than the Bobcat itself if matters were dire for hunger. As healthy and strong willed as he appeared from afar, it didn't seem he was sharing a hardship like her own. Her amber gaze narrowed away, noting his stance and not wanting to challenge him from afar. Her ears even lowered, displaying she didn't want to even consider a challenge. If she was put up to the test, Ecco simply wouldn't have it in her. Death actually sounded more credible at this point.


          There was something that made her stay, however, instead of admitting defeat and retreating back into the woodland. The smell of his drawn blood occasionally came across her nose amid the overwhelming of the Bobcat's. He didn't look mortally injured in the least, but granted there was something Ecco took with her from the life of a lowly Subordinate's bloodline. Born into a Subordinate lifestyle in her previous pack, her parents passed on the wisdom of the healing arts when they tended to the Alpha and Beta pair's families with whatever ailments they suffered from. Glancing up again, her head even craned higher, but only to assist in carrying her voice, which was wrought with exhaust. "Can I... help you in any way? Smell your blood, too. Somewhere." It was actually a ridiculous question coming from someone who obviously needed help themselves. He was standing tall and proud before her, raring to go if another carnivore came into his crosshairs. Ecco wanted to attempt at a trade off of some sort. If she couldn't take it by strength, then maybe delegation could happen.

He saw her shift, saw the reluctance to display herself as a threat. He did not feel threatened by her anyway, even if she had puffed herself up like him - after all, the proof of his power lay dead on the ground feet from him. Some young wanderer on her own was nothing in comparison.

So, what was she doing here? He could think of no reason other than the meat, but she was not prepared to challenge him for it, and he doubted she would try to steal it now that he was watching her. Perhaps she thought he would leave it behind, and, what, let a loner think that the borders of Swift River was a good place to scavenge? That set a dangerous precedent. So he continued to watch her, content to let the ball be in her court; this was his territory (or as near as made no difference) and, if pressed, he knew exactly what was going to happen. She would not be the first hungry stranger to be chased away. Her meek boldness, though, coupled with the intoxication in his blood, made for a very strange combination.

She moved her head, and for a moment he thought she would finally be elevating herself to arrogance - but no, some soft, tired words came out, nothing more. He heard no aggression in them, which was almost disappointing.

It was about then that he decided she was no good for a fight. Thin, lost and hungry enough to stare at a bobcat but do nothing about it, that victory was nothing to boast about. His ears flicked back as he considered the situation, feeling invincible but aimless, bloodthirsty with no worthy advisory. Suddenly the sight of the bobcat made him angry, as though it had failed him by not putting up enough of a fight, not sating his hunger enough. Swift River was a peaceful place and he wanted that, wanted the safety of his pack, but...

His steel eyes snapped onto her face once again, after drifting away into thought, and without further time wasted he prowled forward, half to draw a reaction from her and half through a more casual curiosity. If she did not run, then he would circle her, giving her a narrow berth, to learn what he could from the scents on her pelt. If she was going to stand there so politely, full of smells and knowledge, then he would take them. He kept his tail high, just to affirm where they stood with one another, and made no pretenses about being friendly, but he would make no attempt to attack her. Not unless she provoked it.

She might or might not regret this later, but going to have her stick around for a round. Kind of interested to see what could come out of this right now. XD


          No response was given. Her words didn't warrant any statement to come from him. For a moment she assumed it could have been taking a shot at his already inflated ego; pointing out a subtle weakness of his own in his victory, something any proud male could be offended by. Then again, she wasn't sure, there was nothing but the cold hard stare of steel eyes silently challenging her disposition. The D'Oliva could feel the chemistry in the air was tense, strained, governed by the ancient instinct of territorial protection, the aggression of testosterone, the Alpha and Omega principle, all of which the canine world functioned and existed on. Who was she kidding, nothing like that could even have room for words. Words were forgettable, trivial. It was action, not words, that made the lasting impact.


          He began to move. He began to come toward her. Her veins turned to ice, feeling the familiar prickle of guard hairs begin to raise in anticipation along the ridge of her spine and back. There was a nagging entity in her, the Inner Wolf, that was threatening to bear its fangs and defend her stance on the other side of the river. Defend a land that wasn't hers to claim, rather defend a land that was in honor for all those before her banished, alone, fighting their own wars. For the first time in a long time the flicker of life ignited in her amber eyes, setting ablaze of confused hormones anticipating a fight. There was not a chance in hell Ecco could come up against him. Her own arrogance sorely wracked her mind, fought over her logic to do something. There was nothing that could be done, however, and the wave of sheer aggression was approaching. What are you doing? I don't know. Her paws were frozen in place. There was a mental blockage that refused to move them, even if she wanted to flee.


          Ecco refused to look at him. Refused to stare him straight in his intense steel eyes to challenge. Her ears completely flattened down, tail tucked, and lowered her head enough to where she was nearly cowering. No matter how close he decided to approach, the aura of his authority reached her from their initial distance. It was blatant she didn't want to fight, no matter how much instinct wanted to defend what was left of her. Was it necessary for her to make him come to her to see she knew her place? Yet, she still stayed. It was a desperation of her subconscious maybe, to use whatever route she could for survival. It had been weeks since she last seen another wolf, and wanted to walk away with something for her use.


"Please," Ecco cracked, whether or not he was in hearing distance when she started speaking. "Listen, I... forget it. Even if you know a place to direct me to sleep soundly..." Even her words surprised her, falling out on autopilot. Ecco could still hold the offer of healing his scratches, no matter how minuscule they were, even if it was him telling her to haul tail before he would tear her tail off to the next mountain range, just as long as it was credible information to know there were caves to keep her from harsh weather and cold.

Still she did not challenge him. Indeed, save for turn tail and flee, almost her every action was to prevent provocation. Growing intrigued by this hungry loner who would creep so close to his territory and then do nothing, his approach only quickened, his blood heating up as he rode the vestiges of adrenaline for all they were worth before they vanished and he was left totally empty again.

But he hadn't drawn close to assess her worth as a thrill ticket, he wanted the information she carried on her pelt. As soon as he was close enough he jabbed his nose towards her, huffing at the scents she carried, lingering around her rear for the snippets of knowledge which were the most pertinent to her. To his disappointment, he recognised very little; from what he could tell, she had come into contact with wolves he didn't know, and it was difficult to discern the pack wolves she may have encountered for all the smells that being a wanderer had smothered her in. No matter. Not recognising anything - most of all her own scent - was probably for the best. He didn't tend to react well when encountering a lone wolf who he knew had been hanging around the territory with no attempt to announce themselves.

At some point during his analysis she had squeaked out some more words, but they had washed over his ears like so much water. By the time he was done inhaling everything she had to offer, he had come full circle and stood in front of her again. It was only a small maneouver to put himself largely facing her, their heads closer together than would ordinarily be comfortable. He wasn't here to make her feel comfortable.

It was unintended that such proximity would give her the view of the fresh claw and bite marks on his face (should she glance at him), for he neither expected nor wanted her to do anything about it. Indeed, as he stared at her for a few seconds longer than was polite (because fuck being polite) he decided that he couldn't just let that be the end of it. Meek or not, she had come far too close, and if he was to send her away, it would be with a firm message.

It only occurred to him at that point that perhaps her revealing herself had been intentional. The stench of leadership and authority was likely pouring off him in waves, in ways that it never had during his time as second. Oh, to be second again.

He stared at her anew, wondering if he had been doing this wrong, but violently shook that notion free almost as soon as it occurred to him. It was a simple process really, just not one that he wanted. Was it what she wanted? Her ready submission was either a sign of eagerness for acceptance or just not wanting to be eaten. The vibe he got tended more towards the latter, really.

He stepped slightly to the side, revealing a clear path to the bobcat's corpse. Then he watched her, his posture less hostile and more curious. She could prostrate herself fully and request admission - or she could take the opportunity to steal his kill and declare herself a rival to his pack. Then, if she dared to came back again, he would take the secrets from her pelt as her blood dried on it.

Strange filthy loner wolf is strange. ;P I'll leave it up to you to close out. We'll have to thread in the near future again. ;)


          Her flesh tingled, sending chills down her legs, her spine. The tufts of fur sniffed from multiple angles caused the skin beneath to come alive with a sensation that hadn't been felt in months; otherwise gradually becoming numbed by the cold the more her body mass depleted and the barrier of warmth her fur provided was thinning itself out. The crescendo of her heartbeat gradually raised in her ears, as the D'Oliva was perfectly still underneath his inspection and scrutiny. Still no response, and his presence was simply overbearing upon her at this point. Her amber eyes closed shut, as the guard hairs along her haphazard mane raised. She could feel her heartbeat against the crane of her neck, as if it was anticipating his hot breath and later teeth sinking into her, a final measure of dominance upon a straggling trespasser.


          Which, for some peculiar reason... Ecco wasn't afraid. Her veins were like ice and her skin on fire with chills, but it wasn't a sensation in fear. Doing his job of surely making her feel uncomfortable, the way she felt about this was not the reaction she was expecting. Besides from his invisible dominance piercing right through her own aura, her senses were flooded with his overbearing cologne of masculinity and whatever pack affiliation it was with. Ecco swore she could have felt his lukewarm breath upon her when they were head to head. Her eyes opened, narrowing up the ridge of his muzzle to see the fine detail of his battle indention up close. The smell of his blood was strong, Ecco swallowing and troubled how the aroma of his blood sent her olfactory senses in a frenzy.


          This was the first time she was this close with anyone since departing from Alaska. It was awkward, yet oddly... welcoming. His scent, his blood, the ambience of his dominance was burned into her senses and her mind, drowning in it. Maybe it wasn't the Bobcat's blood she lusted after in hunger, or finding shelter. The priority shifted now in seeking fellowship, social contact, feeling a strange link with him. It could have been the Alpha and Omega principle all along, for that was a powerful association in any canine hierarchy. Her amber gaze dared to narrow up further until the intensity of his steel gaze was met, swallowing once again. There was a shift in stature now, as he stepped aside to let her decide her fate in this moment. Her gaze traveled from him to the Bobcat in the distance.


          This was unnecessary. This was taking much longer than it should. To take a gamble with death to satisfy her taste buds for one last time, or to submit herself to full submission under her steel-eyed captor, leaving her with his authority to delegate something further. The longing of camaraderie was tugging at her, daring her to take that step forward. She almost did it, almost, feeling her legs quiver and threaten to give out on her so she could roll over and expose her delicate, sunken in under-torso to show her full submission to him.


          Until autopilot came on again, breaking her gaze with his own and shaking her head. What are you doing? The moment only felt right in a fleeting minute, but it was reality that struck hard again. What was she doing wasting his time like this? Her amber eyes glanced into his own one last time, before her paws twisted her around, taking her by surprise and then suddenly dashing off into the oblivion of the foliage from whence she originally came. That brief contact felt unusually bittersweet to leave in the instance, but despite how it didn't register anything beneficial between them both... the sheer satisfaction of being accompanied in close proximity to someone like that in weeks was a refreshing reminder of life that was still out there. Ecco wasn't as dead yet as she thought.

For a time, he fancied that his assessment had been correct, despite initial beliefs, and that she would roll over and they would continue from there. Too eager to see what she would decide, he did not take offense at the few moments she spent glancing at his face, for whatever the outcome was, such behaviour would either be stamped out or punished appropriately. Her legs shook, and he could smell her tension, her submission, her inferiority. Everything hung between them, waiting for her to act.

Then something changed. She shook her head, as if clearing it, and he no longer expected her to submit. His lip drew back as he anticipated a foolish decision to go for the bait, but, to his surprise (and, some extent, to his disappointment) she dashed off into the darkness of the forest, leaving him and his bobcat behind. He blinked, having made no move to stop her. It had been his intention to tear her down if he had tried to steal the carcass, for she would never have been able to run off with it in tow if he pursued her. Perhaps he would have let her live, for fun. But this, this was a different outcome, and as he stared at the place where she had vanished, he had to snort with dry amusement. She wasn't completely stupid, then. Maybe it was a shame she had not rolled over.

Content that his point had been made, and that she wouldn't treat his borders quite so lightly from now on, he turned back to where the dead cat lay and roughly grabbed it by the throat, ready to haul it back home. Had he been a more empathic creature, he may have torn a leg free and left it for the lone female who had managed not to make an enemy of herself. If she wanted him to feed and shelter her, then she could bloody well come to him, show her belly and earn it. Fortunately for the small female, her smart decision meant that such a future was not impossible if she wanted it.