Whitestone Monadnock I Want My Poison To Taste Like Poison

It was more typical for Larkspur to take his frustrations out on himself first. He chewed himself for a good day or two, he obsessed over patrolling and hunting small game, but nothing seemed to itch the real scratch he had. So for a while he let the feeling twist and turn in him. This place -- at least the inhabitants -- were sickeningly familiar. The scarred leader reminded Larkspur of himself, which didn't exactly mean anything good. So at the bottom, and just above little Alastor, the white man was out of place. He tried to push the feelings down, to remind himself of the plans for a more secure future. But Larkspur was anxious, he was a man of action. He could only chew the same spot on his thigh for so long before he did something about the real issue.

Today was going to be that day.

It was overcast, making the whole day dark and dreary. With the lack of sun, it was especially chilly, which only aided in Lark's frustrations. His fur stood on its ends as Lark paced the shore of the lake. He fought with himself, continuing to remind himself that Sahalie had said soon. Soon they'd head south, soon he wouldn't be at the bottom of this stupid, awful pack. 

It was a losing battle. Soon wasn't soon enough.

Larkspur called out for @Mittani , a wolf whose name he didn't know. This was an unimportant detail to him, because it wasn't Mittani's name that he was after.

(This post was last modified: Feb 06, 2017, 03:46 AM by Larkspur.)

The Mittani

Juliet loves the beat and the lust it commands
Drop the dagger and lather the blood on your hands, Romeo

He had been deathly silent and unaware to those around him. The pale man wouldn't exactly be surprised if the other wolves of Whitestone Monadnock had forgotten about him even being around. One might even call him a leech for staying around. Perhaps he was just looking for the right time to execute a grand scheme of sorts. Who knew what he'd do given the right conditions.

It appeared someone knew he was here, though. With a groan, Mittani raised himself up and strutted off to where he had been called for. There was an uncanny pep in his step as he lifted his tail. Without hesitation, he made a move on the barely older man. His teeth aiming to grab hold of that tender little scruff. Mittani didn't have time for this and he was going to make that completely obvious. His legs strongly stood under his body to make sure that he didn't lose balance if he could help it. The pale Morelli man had learned a few things when he had so foolishly (oh how he hated that F word, unlike other ones..) went after his rank.

Once he was sure his teeth made contact he offered a muffled snarl. He'd be damned if this man took his rank. No one took anything from The Mittani.

Larkspur lifted himself a little bit higher as @Mittani came into view. A low growl rumbled in the man's throat in warning. He was happy to give the man a chance to step down more willingly, but no words were exchanged as Mitt made a move for him. He tensed, one last snarl erupting from his scarred mug. It was one last warning, but instead he had teeth gripping at his scruff. He couldn't say he disliked this, per se, as it only meant that the two could get to the point. They didn't need to stand by, mindlessly talking. Actions would do, and they'd do much better.

He thought of Piety then, and how hypocritical it might have seemed of him to cause such meaningless turmoil. And more meaningless than it may have originally seemed, as his days in the ranks of Whitestone Monadnock were limited. This was all besides the point, and Larkspur pulled himself into the now. Yanking himself away from Mittani, the man's teeth scraping against his flesh. The wound was small, but stung. Lark then went to barrel the man to the ground, his tail still high. Another snarl rippled from his throat, but he paused, once again offering the man a chance to forfeit.

(This post was last modified: Feb 07, 2017, 01:21 AM by Larkspur.)

The Mittani

Juliet loves the beat and the lust it commands
Drop the dagger and lather the blood on your hands, Romeo

Mittani could feel the man pull away from his grip. There was a tear in the skin but nothing as major as the pale Morelli would have liked. His stance was completely ready to take whatever this stranger was about to throw at him. His pale golden eyes looked as the Monadnock wolf seemed to come directly and swiftly towards him.

But then the man stopped. Oh, what an irresponsible and foolish man! Without taking the offer that had been presented (which he assumed to be talking things out) Mittani launched himself forward at the scarred man. His jaws opening up to latch onto his muzzle. This man would pay the price for stupidity and know what a foolish mistake it was to think that The Mittani would stop and give mercy to anyone so undeserving. When his teeth met flesh he made sure to hold tight. If the damned bastard wanted to pull away this time too there certainly would be skin to tear. He thought about Piety and how she bore new scars from some fight with another broad. Perhaps Mittani could cause the same damage to this man. Besides, Lorcan wasn't around to cry wolf and Craw wasn't around to stop him. Might as well take advantage of the situation while he can.