seek and destroy

I hope it's okay if I jump in :)

The smell of carrion filled the vagabond's nostrils. His keen senses had guided him over a fair distance in the hopes of a decent meal. Since arriving in this strange land he had noticed a shortage of prey. As a large wolf, this would not do. Wolves in general, no matter the size, needed meat to satisfy the visceral craving for flesh. So the overall absence of food was surely felt by many bodies. Based on the distinct imprint, he was guessing it was a moose. Uziel lifted his nares and inhaled deeply. He judged that he was getting closer as the scent got stronger. However, he also sensed the presence of others of his kind. Whether or not they were a threat remained to be seen. But if he could smell the carcass, so could they. His pace quickened. The male's long legs stretched out and carried him swiftly across the cold ground. Ember-like eyes glanced around warily. His fast walk became a jog. A rumble from his gut reminded him that this would probably be the only meal he would get for a while so it was of great import to get his fill. Due to the shortage, it was likely to make everyone a little snippy - not that he was judging. But he was hell bent on getting to the body first. That way he could grab as much as he could before company showed up. He skidded to a halt when he finally came across the rotting flesh of a once proud moose. Uziel could discern that a relative of the wolves had beaten him to it. He hated coyotes with a bitter passion. They were always skittering around and looked like trouble wherever they went. However, there was some meat left that he could pillage. Before diving in he carefully scanned the area for unwanted guests. The last thing he needed was someone sneaking up on him. Luckily, if anyone was getting any ideas they had another thing coming. Being an impossibly large wolf did have its advantages. One of those upsides was that he could pretty much tear someone apart with a decisive bite to the back of the neck. He could sit on another wolf and crush them without trying - not that he had done that in the past. Generally, smart ones avoided picking fights with him anyway. He often tried to instigate fights with dumber opponents. It was in his nature to fight. Whether it was fighting for a cause or just to fight because he was bored, he enjoyed it. He could take beating as well as dish it out. He had been bested several times and shrugged it off. In spite of his inordinately willful personality, he could accept when he was in the wrong.... sort of. There would have to be a rematch, of course. Assuring himself of the lack of wolf presence, the agouti male ravaged what was left of the rotting corpse. The meat was cold and tough from sitting outside for a while. He had to grip the muscle tissue and throw his weight back to rip off large chunks for consumption. The softer bits had already been taken by the previous owners so he would just have to deal with the rest. Every so often he would look up to maintain a vigilant perimeter before tearing into the moose again. Thankfully moose were large beasts and could easily fill several wolves his size. With a mouthful of meat he gazed about and listened intently. He swore he could hear voices. He turned his head and listened for the direction. They were within distance of the carcass so he would have to either eat fast or stick around and see who it was. He chose to stick around. The scents told him that there was at least two wolves. The subtle variations in independent imprints said they didn't belong to a group. This only created more spirit of inquiry within the man. He wanted to know what was going on. Curiosity got the better of him and he waited to see if the other wolves would appear. There were two types of wolves: pack wolves and loners. Pack wolves posed a larger threat to a single lone wolf like himself. While he prided himself on being a formidable combatant, a number of hungry wolves would still win over his sheer size. Lone wolves were a threat to each other simply because they lacked the strength of the pack. They had to fight for what was their's without the aid of other pack members. From that point it was a toss up between who would win in a fight. Not knowing what would happen next, he swallowed his mouthful and snapped off another. The future was never certain so he smartly decided to eat while he could and let the rest play by ear. "Speech." Think

we don't object. c:

It seemed almost as if the conversation had died down - and though it was not mentioned, goodbyes were being said. Miro returned the bow, as he never forget to be polite, but his amber eyes bore into the older male's stature, curiosity piquing with each word he spoke. Something had changed. It wasn't the atmosphere, no. It wasn't Deneb's manner, but something more gradual, something he could've missed if he was careless.

As if to cure the young man of his questions, the wind changed direction and the smell of venison filled his nostrils. He hadn't had a proper meal in ages and he lived only on the small rodents that dare venture out in the cold. Though Miro was never one to eat leftovers, it was like a blessing, this meat. You can't be picky, because food is food is food. His late mother's nagging filled the young one's head and a fond smile pricked at his chapped, black lips.

His eyes wandered back to the older male, and he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. A rush of embarrassment filled him as he closed his mouth once again. Miro had meant to offer to share the food - little or a bounty. He could imagine the horrible scolding he would receive from his parents and grandparents if he had not shared his food. Sure, it was winter. And sure, food was scarce. But he had learned sharing is caring. "There's..." The end of sentence faded away and Miro stepped slightly closer, a weak wag of the tail making him seem like a mere child once more.

"Food! I think I smell some, sir Deneb and I had learned it would be awfully rude to not share and since it's winter and all..." He trailed off, realizing how childish he sounded as he talked without letting out a breath - how young and innocent as opposed to his usual mature manner. Miro sighed irritably, trying once more. "I'm hungry, yes. Maybe you are too, sir - would you like to see if there is something we can go scavenge together?"

A weak, timid smile bloomed on his face, as if to apologize for never shutting his damn mouth. It was worth a try...? If Deneb agreed to accompany him (not watch over, Miro had hoped he made that clear), they'd maybe have a full stomach for the day. If he didn't, Miro would still have one nonetheless.

(This post was last modified: Jan 16, 2014, 01:54 AM by Miro.)

:3

Miro spoke up, and the ivory male paused, turning back and tipping an ear at the silvery wolf. He'd tailed off, making Deneb flick his tail in a silent, impatient question before the other wolf spoke up again. Food. That was well worth mentioning. Deneb turned and pointed his nose into the breeze in the direction that Miro was facing. Sure enough, he smelled it. His opinion of the other wolf going up a few notches, Deneb grinned hungrily and nodded, smoothly loping toward the origin of the faint scent. "Good nose. It smells like a moose," he declared, with a glance over his shoulder to see if Miro was keeping up. He appreciated a wolf that understood the value of sharing - Deneb had always been generous with those close to him. As the scent grew stronger and more tantalizing in his nostrils, another scent joined it - masculine and canine, it caused the Cygni man to press his ears back against his skull. He knew that scent. Raising his tail from its lazy angle to an even keel, he put on a burst of speed, forging through snowdrifts and pask trees and formless shrubs until he arrived in sight if the other wolf. "Well hello again," he said evenly, looking over the scarred form of the loner he had first encountered upon entering these lands. Once again he was left wondering what the outcome would be. The other loner was larger than Miro or himself, his muzzle already stained and ruddy with blood from feasting. Deneb kept a cool neutral manner about himself like a mask, giving away nothing - he exuded neither hostility nor deference. He had yet to make a stand, but neither did he make any move to acquiesce himself to the wild-eyed loner. Together he and Miro outnumbered the wolf, but Deneb hoped it would not come to that. Perhaps even, they could be stronger together. The possibilities remained hypothetical, but the ticked away in his mind as he waited to see how the behemoth would react to their arrival.

(so I'm just going to ignore Uziel and finish this c;)

Miro might've been over-exaggerating at the moment, but once the meat smell has his nostrils, he was mentally drooling. A proper meal was not exactly common during this time of the year and the endless solitude did not help. Miro was a naturally thin lad, but the brutal winter had let his ribs poke out, just ever so slightly, but poke out nonetheless. The young male decided long ago that being that lean wasn't a look that fit him. Maybe Mother Nature agreed.

Miro took one step towards the carcass, and took a deep whiff, cognizant of the older man behind him, whom might as well have been as hungry as him. Heck, pack wolves even had it hard during this darn winter. Finding someone who had no problem filling was as difficult as finding a needle in a haystack. Tedious, and almost impossible. The lad was never one to scavenge and eat leftovers when he was growing up, but recently it was something he had to do in order to keep healthy. When he had shied away from some old leftovers he found while he was alone, Miro could practically hear his own mother scolding the life out of him. Food is food is food.

A timid smile spread across his face as he turned back to look at Deneb, tilting his head slightly as if physically asking for permission to eat first. He did not wait though and slowly approached the carcass, taking the side further from him and burying his nose to take in the smell. Miro estimated it was no more than a few hours old, left over by some damn coyotes looking for a meal. His mouth slowly tore into the best pieces on his side, looking up to hesitantly glance at the older man before him. "Let's dig in."

Deneb eyed the trees warily. The scent of the mongrel coyotes was still tangible in the area, but Deneb was cognizant of the fact that there were perhaps more dangerous things in the area than just the coyotes. Still, for the moment their surroundings seemed quiet. The trees stood like silent sentinels. Blinking, Deneb turned his attention back to the grey wolf Miro, his lurid gaze refocusing.

Nodding at the man's questioning look, the ivory beast plodded toward the carcass. It was fairly fresh, fresh enough that his stomach snarled and a slaver came to his jaws just from the aroma of it. Without hesitation, Deneb tore in greedily. As if of its own accord, his tail swayed behind him, a pale banner that gradually rose higher over his smoky back. He felt better already, more like his old self and less like the hungry wanderer he had become of late.

Each bite only seemed to awaken more hunger, and the brute placed his paws against the fallen prey for leverage, sinking his teeth in and tearing off large chunks of red meat. He swallowed them whole, greedily. A red tinge began to dye his jaws. Each wolf had a side of the kill to work upon, and fortunately the coyotes had left enough for both. For the time being, Deneb said nothing, and a wordless silence hung over the two wolves.

After several long moments had passed, and the hunger in his belly had begun to slacken, he paused and looked at Miro over the dead beast they shared. "Perhaps fate has crossed our paths for some reason, who knows? " Deneb drawled, musingly. "If you ever do meet another Cygni, I should like to know. I'll be around. And if you ever need a favor of some sort, I am always available to help a friend in need."