Larkcall Lowlands But I couldn't see, the joke was on me [M]

Reyes cracked his jaw with a yawn, squinting up at the mid-afternoon sun.  His mate had left early in the morning to meet up with some ‘Devon’ out in the lowlands – an uncle or a cousin or something.  It was a family member, anyways; he’d had a hard time reading Askan, whether he’d actually wanted to see this wolf, or simply felt obligated since he left home.  The conversation they’d had about the pack the beta had left behind.

Wanted to go home, but knew I couldn’t.  Not after what I’d said.  Thought they hated me.

Para eso, mi luna.  If they hate you, their loss.

Te amo, mi luna.  Fuck the rest of ‘em.

Shit, he was such a sap.  But he’d thought the pack – his family – might hate him now.  Frankly, he knew very little of the Selwyn Clan; it could be truth, for all he knew.  Maybe Askan was the best-natured wolf out of the lot.  (And wasn’t that a thought and a half.)  He could see, how he supposed, how a gathering of grumps might take a few harsh words and turn it into a damn wildfire.  When Kana left, though, he certainly hadn’t seemed that concerned.  The wolf tipped his nose back up towards the sun, fond smile slowly fading.  Paws kneaded the ground and he sighed, glancing from the borders he patrolled back to the inner depths of the pack territory.  Should he tell them he was leaving?  Reyes was hardly the most loved wolf in Wild Rye Fields, much less one held in high regard.  Frankly, if not for Askan, he would have left without a second thought, much less a word to the wiser.

( But then again, if not for master Selwyn, he never would have considered joining Wild Rye Fields, either.  He was not a wolf made for packs.  His time back in the canyon, short as though it was, made that clear.  Lacroix had made that clear.  Shit, he hated other wolves. )

Grumbling under his breath, the large male paused long enough to shake out his shiny summer coat.  Though he’d lost a great deal of bulk, the fur somehow seemed to retain its volume.  He was cooler, but certainly didn’t look any less thick.  Reyes shifted forward across the borders without a second thought.  No one really cared if he stayed or if he went – the wolf that did wasn’t among them, and wasn’t in their shared den, either.  Besides, he wasn’t going that far.  Askan said he was meeting this Devon guy somewhere out in the lowlands.  At very most, he’d be back tomorrow, if he travelled all the way across it.

But the beta hadn’t said he’d be back tomorrow, he said he’d be back this afternoon, and it was afternoon now.  Maldita sea, he thought bitterly.  The lazy trot quickly evolved into a hurried lope as he set off in the general direction he’d watch Askan go.  He could only hope it would take him where the other wolf was; or better yet, he’d run into his mate on his return, and they could have a hunt before returning to the Rye wolves with something for their caches.

Alas, such wishes were not to come true.  Reyes travelled deeper into the afternoon hours and deeper into tall grasses and gently rolling hills, as he went north, and north still.  The monadnock was a mere bump in the distance, and the crater was somewhere over there, surely – but if his mate was there, Askan would have told him.  The beta wasn’t exactly a secrets kind of guy.  Long grasses gave way to budding flowers, and soon those were replaced by scrappy shrubs and hedges.  The ground was wet and spongey from the recent rains; what the earth did soak up, the vegetation benefited from.  And where the local fauna profited, so too did the herds of bison and caribou.  Those were more than specks on the horizon, but they did not pay a lone wolf any heed.  There was nothing he could do except stir them up, maybe – frankly, any one of those ungulates were more likely to do damage to him than vice versa.  Maybe later.  Maybe when he had his mate, or his mate’s pack.  But Reyes was alone, and he gave the grazing herds large berths as he continued north in the silence.  If Askan wasn’t overdue, he might have even considered the jaunt to be relaxing.  Fun, even.

But Askan was overdue, and the questions were starting to gnaw at his primal hindbrain.

Maybe he ran.

No.

Askan wouldn’t do that to him.  Wolves couldn’t be trusted, not even those with which he shared a pack, but Askan was different.  He wouldn’t have pursued the other swarthy male if he didn’t actually believe it.  There was very little in this world (or the next) that he could put any faith in, but Askan?  But whatever they held between them?  That little fragile thing?  He could trust that.  He could place his black, broken heart and not worry it would be broken.

But just because Askan wouldn’t didn’t mean the world wasn’t a cruel place.  Stupid shit happened.  Wolves got crushed by falling rocks or swallowed up by the earth itself.  There were bears or a big old mountain moggy that could take a wolf without much concern.  Shit, with all the rain, there were bolts of lightning comin’ down from the sky, and surely if one actually hit a wolf, there’d be nothing left of him.  The very thought made Reyes shiver a bit and lengthen his gait, stretching further across the gently sloping hills until something in the distance caught his eye.  It wasn’t the monadnock, it was too small – plus, he would recognize that pack stink anywhere.  Still, it seemed like a pile of rocks, or something similar.  Definitely not a mountain, or a cliff – it wasn’t like the stairway to the sky, either.

Curiosity struck the wandering wolf and he altered his course slightly, piloting towards the strange stony structure in the far northern reaches of the Larkcall Lowlands.  Finally, the wind shifted, and Reyes caught whiff of a familiar scent.  With it came that of another wolf; so that Devon guy must still be here.  Still holding Askan up.  His large paws slowed and he came to a halt, brows pinched together as he studied the tor in the distance.  He was being a paranoid son of a bitch.  He was being clingy.  Worrying for no reason, when his mate was still here, right where he said he’d be, still catching up with his uncle.  Cousin.  Whatever they were.

It was an ugly look, that Reyes knew, and it kept his feet anchored to the sparse grasses as he pricked his ears, straining for any kind of sound or voices carried on the wind.  Eavesdropping was unseemly, too, but no one was going to see him do it.  He couldn’t hear anyone, though.  Could certainly smell them, of that he was certain, but they were out of sight, just beyond the crest of the hill, and they weren’t talking, or they were talking very quietly.  Which was a bit weird, given how abandoned the whole place was.  His mouth twisted into knots as he debated with himself.

Should he go over?

Mierda, he didn’t travel all the way out here just to turn around and go home again without actually seeing Askan.  If the guy had a problem with him coming around, he shouldn’t have been so damn late.

With his resolve settled, Reyes shifted into an easy jog, cresting the hill just in time for a low purr to filter into his ears.  He didn’t recognize the voice.  Devon, clearly, but—

Silver eyes caught the pair of wolves a moment later.  They looked similar, family clearly – the same dark pelt, the same Selwyn yellow eyes – but the standing wolf had a swatch of pearly white from his chin to his under carriage.  It wasn’t Askan.  And the wolf on the ground – laying?  No.  No.  Not laying.  Whatever was happening was not good, and whatever else the pair was saying was lost to the roar of blood in his ears.  Devon had not met with Askan to share news of the family or the pack or whatever other bullshit he’d passed along through Adelayde to get Askan all the way out here.

Maybe the family did hate him, then.

Fuck the rest of ‘em.

Reyes did not remember asking his legs to move, nor did he actually remember the gallop over to wear Devon stood over his mate.  His ears plastered against his skull as his lips peeled back, revealing rows of ivory knives.  He offered no warning growl, not a sound above the rush of grass as he raced across the earth – not until he through his chest into the man’s exposed middle, anyways.  The meaty smack of flesh on flesh echoed against stones as both wolves went tumbling, Reyes’ momentum carrying them a few lengths away from Askan.

Was he…?

He couldn’t stop and check.  Not now.  Askan was fine – if he wasn’t peachy at this very moment, he would be, shortly.  As soon as he dispatched this mother fucker right here.  The wolf caught his feet within moments, refusing to be carried away by his own enthusiasm before the job was complete.  This man had to die.  There were no two ways about it.  He turned about on the older Selwyn before the other wolf could recover quickly and bared his teeth.

“Dead man walking,” he snarled before lunging at the dark creature.  Un demonio, maybe, just like his mama used to say.  Or maybe just a bad wolf.  You couldn’t trust them, after all, not a one.  Not even family.

It didn’t surprise him, somehow.

He wanted this one to hurt.  He wanted this one to suffer for whatever he’d done to Askan.  He needed to be punished for his misdeeds, for the attempted theft, attempted murder--  All at once, Reyes’ blood boiled up again, threatening to spill into nothing more than unrelenting blood lust as the thought crossed his mind.  This wolf, this heathen, actually meant to kill Askan.  Su luna.  El amor de su vida.  Without Askan, there was nothing for him in this world.  Without Askan, there was no point.  And for this, and for this crime this wolf meant to commit, he would pay the price with his life.

All these thoughts happened in a matter of mere moments, flashing through his skull like rapid fire, echoing through the bones and rattling all his inhibitions loose.  It had been so long since Blackwatch Canyon, and yet it felt like just yesterday.  Like yesterday he had been running with the and under his feet, the hot sun on his back as he and his boys (and the single girl, Finch’s pet project) had finished off the last of the Eagle’s Talon pack.  Like yesterday that fucking Lacroix had stabbing him in the back and overthrew him – but worse than that was when no one else had stopped him, had watched as he went over the lip of the red rocks and into the river below.  The fall hadn’t killed him, but it had made one thing very clear; there was no reason to go back.  Like all his faith had been broken yesterday, and not a summer ago.

The roar of blood and bullets continued between his ears as Reyes lunged forward, a monstrous snarl ripping free from his lungs as he grabbed for the other wolf’s nearest limb.  Devon was bigger, yes, though just barely – but size would not help him here, not when he had his forelimb and gravity on his side.  He yanked as hard as he could, sharp teeth cutting into flesh as he forced the older wolf back towards the earth – once he was all the way down, he would pin him, and end his stupid life the very way he’d tried to end Askan’s.  Slowly.

“Actions have consequences.”

Everything was goin' all peachy perfect. Askan might've been a tad bit chunkier than his Pa, but he certainly went down with less of a fight. Maybe it was lack of experience, or he was blinded by anger but in the end it didn't really matter. The sooner he dealt with this one the sooner he could go back home and hopefully deal with the other. At least he wouldn't have to killer her, she'd live if she were reasonable like lil Lenny. The other one, Kaela though? Not so much.

What did he didn't expect however, was the new addition to the party. This was a damn remote place, if he did say so himself, so he reckoned they'd be left in peace to work out their 'family problem'. But apparently it weren't to be and- my my he was a handsome fella weren't he? All bulk and muscle. Chunky, but in a good way, a pleasin' way. Despite standing on his nephew throat, squeezing the dear life from him, Savion weren't afraid to take a moment to have a gander at the eye candy. Or that's what he planed on doin' anyway as he was a little taken back by what happened next.

Savion wasn't at all a light weight by any meaning of the word, but this stranger knocked him over like a scraggly tree in a storm.  The air was shoved right out of him as he tumbled to the floor with a throaty groan. Shit. That hurt, just a bit. But not wantin' to give this rando the satisfaction, he merely clambered to his feet and shook himself, as though he didn't have a damn care in the world. But really, who the fuck was this guy? He'd managed to get a lucky hit in cause he'd-admittedly- been a little distracted. But lucky shot or not, that was good'un if he'd ever seen one.

The Comedian planned on askin' 'who the hell he was and what his problem was' but clearly the stranger had no interest in civilised conversation-really, he was callin' him a deadman, pffft- and instead launched himself again.

Savion thought he was ready, that he could take it, but clearly he was wrong.

In a flash of fury and fire, the stranger dashed forward and clamped down on his teeth down hard on his leg. He'd never give this nobody the satisfaction of a yelp, or a cry-like Askan had, poor thing- and instead gritted his teeth as a tirade of curses and filthy language swirled around in his mind.

Piss. Fuck. Twat. Arsehole. Shit shit shit.

His wounded leg couldn't stand the weight of his body and with that fucker yanking on it as he was, there was only one way this was gonna end. Savion fell. And he fell hard, again.

Once again the stranger didn't even give Savion the chance to catch his breath. He was on him again like a bat outta hell.

But what caused such a vicious display? It wasn't as if he even knew who this guy was, he couldn't have had a personal vendetta...unless. He cast a sly glance over to his left, where Askan still laid on the rock, just where he left him. From where he was, he couldn't see whether he was alive or not, but fuck he wished he was dead. Wouldn't that be amusing, for this asshat to go to such efforts to be a hero just to have poor Kana die? Would he cry? Fuck, he hoped he would. For he deserved it, being the pain in Savion's arse that he was.

Struggling to keep, the stranger at a distance, Savion rolled over to bat him out of the way with his non-injured leg. He could do this, he was bruised and bleeding for sure but Savion had faced worst odds. This guy was nothin' in the grand scheme of things.

"Consequences huh? Welp, my actions sure did. See, Askan over there? You know him, right? He's dead and don't worry you can join him soon enough." It was an obvious bait, he was just curious to see whether he'd take it.

(This post was last modified: May 20, 2017, 09:46 PM by Savion.)

Bat out of hell? Hardly.

A reaper, more like. If he had to be a heathen to kill a heathen, than so be it. It was a small tariff, anyways. There were days he hardly felt like a wolf at all, and that was fine. This didn’t need a wolf – this needed a killer. And that was fine. Steely grey eyes met buttercup yellow and he smiled a shark’s smile, razor sharp teeth and dribbling blood. Would he cry? Maybe later, with the sky and the rain – but not for Devon. The only thing he got was a dry laugh as he released the idiot’s leg. It was dry and raspy, tongue running over his lips before he lunged again, diving right through the Selwyn’s weak attempts to bat him away. Please.

What a shit stain. What a poor excuse for a wolf.

“That was a tactical error.”

This time, his teeth met the wolf’s snout, sinking deep into the man’s muzzle. The taste of copper sprang over his tongue, warm and sweet like youth’s fountain – and so he grabbed harder, and harder still. Can’t breath without a face; and if that failed, well, he had other options, no less painful still.

Ecccck, gross post ahead. Includes snout crunching

What? Savion blinked in confusion. He weren't making much sense. Not that Savion had any time or even the chance to ask 'Wait, what?' cause as soon as he opened his mouth to speak another set of jaws clamped down on his muzzle to keep it shut. Without even thinking it through, The Comedian thrashed his head from side to side, trying to get this motherfucker to just let go. But he wouldn't. His teeth tore into the soft skin of his snout and each movement dragged them along, pushed them in deeper but he didn't care.

He just wanted the fucker to get the fuck off!

It was getting harder to breathe, seeing as you know his face was stuck inside the mouth of another damn wolf. But naw, surely this wasn't as bad as it seemed. He just had to get out and show this prat what was what, but that was getting hard considering... Snarling, Savion shoved himself forward and pushed into the stranger with all of his might and weight. If he couldn't go backwards then he'd go forwards and through him.

Blood splashed to the floor and gathered in a growing pool on the floor. And for all the blood he was loosing, it also seemed as though as The self proclaimed Saviour was loosing his breath as well. Or at the very least he was having a hard time catching it. Which.... was fast becoming a problem.

But for all he struggled and tried to slither out of his grip, it just wasn't doing shit. If anything, this fucker was just toying with him, delaying the inevitable and drawing it out to get his revenge. Whatever. It's not like- but then he bit down harder, with a CRUNCH of breaking bone and...

Savion would have screamed if he could.

If he were in his right mind, Reyes would have stopped before crunching through the man’s muzzle. His mother did not raise him to be a violent man – but she was gone, as were his sisters, as was Blackwatch Canyon and his wolves – and an angry soul he became, relishing in the snap of bones between his teeth. It was one thing to hunt and to eat; it was another entirely to take a life out of vengeance, and anger.

But he wasn’t done yet.

When the bones broke, the struggling stopped and the Rye wolf released his victim, blood and saliva rolling from his mouth. He licked his lips once and studied Devon for a mere moment. He nosed the wolf’s jaw upwards and met little resistance. Once his neck was bared, Reyes moved in for the kill; earlier he wanted it to linger, but now he only wanted the bastard to die. Askan was only a few lengths away, and he still didn’t know if—

Silver eyes flashed and he shoot forward, quick as a viper. Teeth sunk into the male’s throat like daggers. As soon as fresh blood splashed on his teeth, he jerked back with a wet noise. He released a moment later, flesh falling from his mouth as he stared downwards, a gaping hole where a throat should be. He opened his mouth, but found he had nothing left to say. Instead, he turned, and jogged over to Askan, nosing the wolf’s body. He couldn’t feel his own feet. His tail.

“Kana? Dónde estás? No te vayas. No me dejes ahora. Amado, por favor. Por favor.”

There was nothing but darkness and a crushing, invisible, weight baring down on him.

Was this it? Just nothingness and pain? He would have cried if he could, where was his peace?, his reprieve? He'd always questioned the existence of heaven, of paradise, but in the stories it had always sounded so nice. Or at least his Father made it seem so.

 "Think of it not as a bad thing. Think of it as....Like going home after a long journey. It's where we're meant to be Askan, Selwyns were never meant for this world."

Askan would have sighed, but the pain in his throat was too great, and the sound that he-somehow, after all wasn't he dead?- managed to make was more like a rasping wheeze. His breaths were short and shallow, and each rise and fall of his chest sent a wave of exhaustion over him. Surely this was hell. It had to be, nowhere else would hurt this much, this bad. But the ground beneath him was hard and cold, and jabbing into his ribs. Nothing like the fire and brimstone of those old Selwyn tales. So was this limbo? Was he stuck in between, like a leaf floating on the surface of a stagnant pond?

And...What of his family? Were they stuck here too? Out of sight and out of reach? He couldn't help but tremble at the thought. But with each shiver and shuddering breath the world around him...Felt more concrete?

A strange warbling reached his ears as something prodded at him, cold and wet. Slowly, and with a great deal effort Askan opened an eye, then blinked once and then again. It was coming to him...He felt real, less like a ghostly apparition stuck in limbo and more like a man who had just lost it all.

He stared up, blearily at the man standing over him and despite his state he recognised him immediately, bloody face and all.

"R-Rey?" He rasped, his voice as course and as pained as though he'd swallowed a thousand shards of glass.

Slowly, very slowly, Askan opened an eye. It was almost as if the man were simply slumberous – but no, he had been visited by Death itself and had come out the other side. Reyes released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, leaning down to brush gentle kisses over his mate’s nose. That was his intention, anyways, but sound find himself kissing his muzzle, cheeks, and crown. “Estás vivo,” he sighed softly, murmuring into familiar dark fur.

He needed to get Askan back to Wild Rye Fields. To the safety of their little den. Reyes had no idea how he was going to get his mate home – he would figure that out in a minute. Without his consent, his knees went out from underneath him, and wobbling legs slowly folding underneath his belly. He transformed into a wolf loaf on the ground next to Kana…and he couldn’t care less. The younger wolf was still within reach, and Reyes continued to lave gentle kisses against the man’s face. “Mi luna, te amo, te amo. Estaba tan asustada,” he rumbled – that he had slipped back into his native tongue went completely beyond his notice. It didn’t matter. As long as Askan stayed with him, nothing else mattered.

Fade.

(This post was last modified: May 21, 2017, 07:47 PM by Reyes.)