And I am the Rain King

A mouth full of beaver he was proudly carrying it back to not only see pups faces, but perhaps lighten the dampened spirits from rain, and the absence of Ice. Even with the thought of the pale wolf, Triell did not falter on his course. His dark limbs worked harder. The vision in his head was soon crumpled. There was a tainted scent, a stranger, a vagabond in his home. Dark hair bristling down his spine, he did not drop his catch, but lifted his head, trailing it. Thankfully, it did not head off to the den. It was leading him down a familiar trail where was stored one cache of the many they needed to survive the winter.


What kind of fool? The dark man had every intention of finding out. Dropping the beaver beside the base of an oak, leathery nostrils tested again, but he was the sole tracker of this idiot. Good. He was ready, and nothing else to worry about this instant. He came to the meal hold, and it was plain to see it had been torn into, and scarfed down. Unsurprised, yet agitated his ears pinned to his skull. Another mental case? Creeping forward, fiery eyes sweeping across the blue haze, it didn't seem like he was far behind. Come out, come out where ever you are.


The Tainn quietly continued his hunt, the scent of the wolf stronger on the breeze. A lone female it was. Why was she still here? He would think her scent would grow weak as her trail grew long. Awe, off by the withering grass, beneath the thinning tree limbs there was the evidence in the swollen sides of the miserable looking creature who was resting with her full belly.


"Hey, feather brains! You wouldn't want to forget the free ass kicking with your meal."

The tension coiled thick in the air -- it surpassed the rain that washed the mud slick against their borders and tore the final autumn leaves from their perch. The weather had barely lightened in days, and the golden pelt of the she-wolf clung to the delicate curves of the beast in the aftermath and dampness that still clung to the air despite the flickering sunshine that filtered the trees. Her nose would stray to a certain mark here and there, each faded from mother nature's tears, and yet the gentle breeze that whipped past and coiled her pelt brought with it the hint of another. Kisla inhaled sharply, stunned momentarily at the thought that another had even dared to so brazenly trek in to her home.


She was not far, and as her pace quickened, her hackles bristling with the mere thought of what another could do within the borders of their home, she was close enough to hear her uncle's threat. She emerged from the brush, sliding up beside him, her inked lips pulled back to reveal glossy teeth as a snarl erupted from her.. guttural with outrage. A flash of silver caught her eye then -- her mother darted forward, enraged as well, and Kisla tensed then, barely holding herself back from leaping to the fray and at her mother's side.


Instead, her eyes fell coldly upon the stranger, only then catching the scent of a disturbed cache, oh so faintly. Her creamy paws clutched the earth, her tail lashed. Her gaze darted up to regard Corinna and then Triell, awaiting their command.

And I am the Rain King

No ears? It was his second thought, the way she thumped her tail as if he was bringing her desert. He had every intention of instilling his threat, but her actions made him pause. Did she have the sickness? The one that turned brains to mush, one second harmless idiot, than attacking maniac full of poison?


The Tainn was frozen, held prisoner by the vision of blood squirting across his fiery gaze, the wild snarls of Marsh ripping through the back of his skull. The cold was moving in, and his body didn't want to breathe. Corinna's silver figure announced her arrival, moving to action and Triell snapped from the memory. A momentary flinch when realizing Kisla was beside him, adding her own outrage. Thankful for his backup for many a reason, he only nodded to Kisla. It was up to her to join the fray or watch because she was an adult as far as he was concerned. With heat rushing back to his limbs, raising his guard hairs, he moved forward.

He had every intention to lay into the female. A fifth wolf was added to the fray, and the dark man did not like his warning. He didn't like the fact he did not belong here either. That raised tail, Triell wanted it to be his undoing. When the loner was aiming toward Cori, it didn't take thought for Triell's paws to charge toward the silvery brute course, his mouth agape in hopes to grab the bastard by his coat. Who knew stick-for-brains had a friend?

The intruder was so very quick to flip to her back as Corinna barreled her – the purest of submissions bestowed to them, and yet before she could blink, another was upon the scene. It happened quite fast – the rise of his tail flagging them his pride and challenge, the way he made to push in to her mother’s side and knock her down.


A barking growl escaped the tawny female then, her back paws digging to the ground as she leapt forward, missing Triell’s nod for her to join them – no one would touch her mother that way. Triell was faster than her, his jaws gaping to grab on to the offending male’s fur, and as she was ready to snap her jaws at a carefully aimed blow to his hind limbs and perhaps grip one, this maneuver did not happen the moment the silver male ushered a harsh order to the she-wolf who had stolen from them.


Whether it was cowardly or not to attack a wolf who so fully disposed herself to them, the idea of the initial intruder escaping without reprimand for taking food practically out of her little brother’s mouths was not something she was willing to accept, and spinning, a low growl slipped past her as she made snapped her jaws in the direction of the strange she-wolf, hoping to grasp the fur around her nape and hold her down while Triell and Corinna dealt with the male. So enraged, Kisla could barely take in the flurry of activity around her as she made for this grab, uncertain if her youthful jaws would even connect to flesh and fur.