With a belly full of fish ready to be regurgitated for her growing son, Sagacity picked her way through the foothills and back up the slope toward her mountainside home. A half-smile caught her lips when she realized happily that her belly made it harder for her to climb the mountain- she'd had extremely good luck with her fishing, and had made a point of leaving a scent mark near the river where the fishing had been particularly good. If only every day would bring fishing as fruitful as this! Then she would never have to worry about exhausting herself for a meal ever again, as fishing mainly required patience.

The happy look of a wolf with a full stomach immediately disappeared, however, when she caught the scent of a wolf that was all too familiar. She caught her breath before a growl made its way to her vocal chords and she froze, completely silent. For a moment she relied only on her sense of hearing and smell, as neither would give her away and neither required any amount of movement. He was in the area, but not immediately; she was safe to relax and move, though the former of the two was considerably more difficult.

Slinking into a sneaking pose, she moved along the cliffside with the finesse of one well equipped with the grace to live on a mountain and be a professional hunter there. Silently the scout wound her way along the bouldery slope, keeping her body held low so that she could creep forward, aiming to see him. She didn't know why, but she needed to see for her own eyes if it was him and what exactly he looked like.

She tensed as she sensed his proximity, and dared take a tiny peek between two sand-coloured boulders only to see the dark pelt of a male wolf. She pulled back swiftly, before she inched her head forward again, this time aiming to get a better look at him. In her mind, all she remembered was darkness and the strength of his jaws and forelegs. Her eyes narrowed. He looked all too mortal, and though she couldn't see his eyes, she remembered now exactly how they'd looked. Silently, she shuddered.

He was too close to her home.

corvus corvum nigrum nominat

Corsair Fleetwood

The crow calls the raven black

A prickle started to run along his spine, it felt like eyes boring into his back. A casual flick of the ear wasn’t enough to brush it off and so for a moment, he swung his head to look over his shoulder, half-lidded eyes surveying the scenery behind him to no avail. He was just as alone as he had ever been, and so with a nonchalant shrug he stood to shake out his dusty coat. It had been a while since he had groomed, and it was only now with the sun beating down on him that he began to feel the itchiness, like a three day growth, not comfortable, but far from the itch of parasites that could also be associated with such poor personal hygiene. He would need to give himself a proper grooming soon.

Below, gnarled trees reached for the sky, some with smooth bark and some with rough. If he had a care to descend from the mountain they could make for good scratching posts, but the rough edges of stone could serve just as well. He supposed he should begin to head back towards the lake but he was in no rush. There was another ridge he could scale that might give him a better view of the east, had he a care to travel that way. He remembered the journey with a snort before deciding he had nothing better to do right now anyway.

Skirting around to the left of the boulders that concealed the Nomad Scout he continued onwards and upwards, completely oblivious to just how close he had come to stumbling across the sterling female yet again, his thoughts entirely focused on the climb ahead.

☽ ✦ ☾

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RE: Evil (Is Going On) - Sagacity - Jul 05, 2013

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Every moment she watched him she became more ensnared and repulsed by him. The sooty black and mahogany of his pelt, the strength of his body, the lazy look in his eyes. Each movement he made was noted by the female who was very aware of their proximity. Part of her wanted to leap out and simply attack- how hard could it be, if she had the element of surprise? But her location wasn't ideal. He'd hear her coming before she got close enough- she wanted to hunt him down like a lesser being and make him die like nothing more than a prey.

He moved and she flattened herself against the ground, praying that she would blend in with the scenery enough that she wouldn't be noticed- otherwise, she'd be up to the fight of her life on the side of the mountain with scree and loose rock. If he didn't kill her, one wrong step might be all it took. It was too perilous to chance, really. He stood and shook his pelt and then moved toward her- almost too close, definitely too close for comfort. Sage readied herself to strike- but never brought herself out of the crouch. He passed by, oblivious.

At a safe distance, knowing he had the advantage as far as vantage points were concerned, she followed, slipping from shadow to shadow, watching and evaluating his every move.

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RE: Evil (Is Going On) - Corsair Fleetwood - Jul 30, 2013

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corvus corvum nigrum nominat

Corsair Fleetwood

The crow calls the raven black

This land was rugged and so different from the flat lands below. He had to wonder what had drawn him so close to the mountain, and so far from the land that had birthed him. His parents had driven him out when they grew tired of his lazy ways, yes, but he could have stayed nearby, tempted away some of those who took pity on him. He could be living like a king. Perhaps that was what had drawn him to such a high place? A throne of his own where he could look down on the lands below with haughty derision and unveiled contempt? Perhaps it was simply that the air seemed so much cleaner up here?

His head swung to take in the mountain peak, a fair journey yet, still capped with snow and for a moment he considered... before a silent sigh and a look back to the Lake below settled the decision in his head. Not today. but one day perhaps, he would scale the slopes and look down on them all (if he could see the lands below through the clouds at all).

Quickly however, his attention was drawn from the heights. The slip of a pebble, a sudden fresh scent. The male tensed as his nostrils flared. Years of taking the easiest route ingrained so deeply in his core that he did not hesitate to dance towards the scent that had caught his attention, skirting by his concealed stalker to round on the rotting carcass of a goat, only now beginning to thaw in the summer sun. The satisfying crack of bones as he worked his way to flesh far from tender all but drowning out the sounds around him. He may have been a proud wolf, but he would never allow an easy meal to go to waste.

☽ ✦ ☾

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RE: Evil (Is Going On) - Sagacity - Aug 09, 2013

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Part of Sagacity wanted to leap out of hiding, call out for her packmates and slay this beast with the savagery she felt in her heart which desired revenge. She stayed low and careful,avoiding any tripwires which could be found in the crunch of a leaf or tumble of a rock and give away her placement. Her stark, amber eyes were festooned upon him, unblinking and wild, lit by a feral fire that would burn brightly on into the night even after he left the area. There, within a cave of darkness even starved of oxygen it would smoulder and burn brighter whenever her mind turned to it, releasing air on which it would feed. Seeing him here, so close to her home, meant he was a threat. A thread which must be exterminated.

When his limelight gaze swept toward the mountain's peak she bristled. No, he wouldn't dare. She willed him to turn his head away and so he did, nostrils twitching as he picked up a scent- and moved off in a direction which took him further away from her. She moved forward once it was safe to do so and scented the breeze to see which target he'd honed in on- only to discover that it was that of rotting carrion.

Let him have it, she decided. She knew he was here and that he was resorting to rotten meat to survive. He was a lone wolf, and she decided to keep an eye on his movements, in as subtle way she could. Leaving him to his own devices she moved up the slope, away from the area so as to leave no trace behind in what would likely be his path. The last thing he needed to know was that this was her stomping grounds...She vowed to herself that the next time she saw him, it would be on her terms. And it would not end well for him at all.

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