The Wildwood Tear Up the Ground

Warm; breezy. Afternoon.

Willow Ridge. It was his new home; his new pack. Where he would live out the rest of his life. Where he vowed his loyalties. He was out and about now, and for one reason only- training. Although the man was older, he enjoyed his physical exercise. He had wandered toward The Wildwood to challenge himself through the thick undergrowth. Fallen trees were scattered about, pointed rocks were hidden beneath thick layers of grasses. Precious serpents lay coiled beneath these grasses, startled and slithering away as the man bounded through.

His muscles flexed and strained as he flew through the undergrowth, his eyes narrowed and taking in the surroundings. Within seconds he would analyze every obstacle, instantly deciding how he would react to it. Leaping over a rotting fallen tree, a smile placed itself upon his face. He was having fun.

His heart raced within his chest, creating a steady rhythm to a song that played within his mind. What it was, one was unsure, for he made it up as he went along. There were no lyrics, only instrumentals. A glorious workout to his own composings. How fantastic.

(Conveniently not going to mention Hotei, or SR, or anything that should've happened yet but won't xD)
<blockquote>Weeks. Months. Years. All had gone by, so slow day by day but over in the blink of an eye, and yet the very thought of the Wildwood still served well to dampen the tawny she-wolf's spirits. When she had been out, searching for the remainder of her family, the memories of her home that caught her during the lonely night made her heart beat heavy and forced a whimper to escape her maw. Sometimes she had thought it would be better to never go back, to never have to see the remains of the Hidden Tree and awake once again the sadness that would forever be associated with that fateful day. Perhaps then she would not have nightmares of the devil's fire, come to swallow her whole. Yet, more than she hated the memory, Torla loved her family. There was something about the blood of the Tainns that had tugged her back, back to Relic Lore, to reunite finally with the ones who would always love her.

But even Torla could not deny the power of darkness. It was a sickening thing, how events so cruel and so awful could be so mesmerizing. For some reason, this magnetism continued to weigh on the short-furred female's mind. She did not want to visit the Wildwood. She really didn't. But here she was.

Her steps were gentle, and slow, placing one dainty paw in front of the other as her yellow-orange eyes swept across the deadened landscape. She did not dare go too close to the Hidden Tree, or even too far into the burnt end. She <span class='word'>subitized</span> the number of scarred trees, trunks whitened by the flames that had scorched them so long ago. They all looked the same, even though it'd been years since she had ever seen them before. The feeling of deja vu could not be shook; no matter where she placed her paw she felt some eerie familiarity. The sounds of the forest couldn't even take her attention, despite how valiantly they tried. An owl would hoot, a bird would cry, and there were even the sounds of hooves in the thicket, but Torla didn't care for any of them... until she heard paws on the ground.

Immediately she lifted her head toward the sound, resonating from the live part of the Wildwood. Yet it didn't carry the tones of approach; it was just... wild movement. Curious and confused, Torla couldn't help but turn and begin on a new path. Perhaps it was a wounded wolf, desperately seeking shelter? Or perhaps it was someone who was lost. Her footsteps quickened, each bad situation increasing her urgency. Maybe there was a chase, maybe there was a fight. Or maybe it was one male leaping around for no particular reason at all.

Torla paused for a moment, staring at the scene in bewilderment. He was just jumping around in the freshly-grown grasses; she could swear there was a child-like grin on his face. Never before had she seen a full-grown male dancing around like a pup... but the action of innocence was quickly snuffing out the flame of nostalgia that had come to her, his scent ousting the smell of the burnt Wildwood and all its terrible memories. Torla was suddenly very thankful for his distraction. Like the wildfire that had taken her home he was red, streaking through the grasses with the ferocity of the natural disaster, and yet he left no flames or destruction in his wake. Something like comfort settled in the hollow cavity of her chest. This was alright.

So Torla leapt out from the surrounding, bounding into the play area and leaping upon one of the bigger rocks that jutted from the ground. Chest low to the ground she assumed a play bow, dusty red tail waving rapidly in the air. Mischief glinted in her yellow-tinted eyes, though she made no move yet. He had to give her permission first.
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His tongue lolled from his mouth in a heavy pant as he began to slow. With his tail lifted and wagging merrily, he brought his head upward to scent the air. With a gentle breeze came the scent of another wolf. Immediately snapping his neck in the direction of the smell, his pale eyes focused upon a rock. No, what was on the rock. Confusion racked his mind as he took in the sight before him.

A pale tawny woman was in a play bow upon the slab of rock, her eyes lit with that of play. With the smirk still upon his inky lips, he now turned his body, allowing himself to step toward her. Her tail swayed to and fro as his had. It was odd, a wolf taking to this position right away. They were complete strangers. Perhaps, though, there were some good wolves left in the world. Even if she was not, she was a lady, and Reed would treat her appropriately. Woman, to him, deserved to be pampered with what they wanted. This one wanted to play.

Releasing a light growl (playful, of course), Reed mirrored her actions. He brought his muscular front downward, tail high in the air and swaying in rhythm to hers. His own eyes now carried a curious glint. With one fluid movement, he leaped swiftly to the right, landing in the play bow. His paws flattened the thick blades of emerald grasses below him as he landed, paws making a slight thumping sound against the earth.

Your move. What if she did not intend a friendly encounter? What if this was a trap? If it was friendly, Reed was determined to act according, but if it was otherwise...she best be prepared to leave with half her pelt missing. Judging by her weight, though, it seemed she was a loner...but he would not assume things just yet.

<blockquote>Torla held herself static while the male assessed the situation, so quickly that it was over in a blink of an eye. A genuine smile broke through her facade when the male imitated her stance, providing her the invitation to play. A moment's recovery would cover it with a wide grin while her paws flexed against the cold surface of the stone. Her Tainn-bright eyes were locked on to his form as the red man bounced off to his right, landing and then remaining still. Quiet but for the swishing of their tails through the air she waited for something, perhaps a surprise attack, but nothing came. His gaze was situated quite intently on herself... ah, a gentleman, he was. Ladies first.

The acceptance of her play served as the <span class='word'>instauration</span> of her wearied soul. The paws of her pads felt less calloused and when she swayed it felt as though all her joints had been made loose, ready to move and entirely free, at least for these minutes, of the burdens of the past. Torla crouched low to the ground as she assessed her target, leaning from side to side to choose her best angle. Then, she pounced, body outstretched for his left side. Yet instead of aiming to careen in to him, and slap him with a paw or something else similar, Torla would merely land antiparallel to him. She had no particular strong suit - despite her lithe and willowy physique, the dusty-coated female was rather balanced in terms of speed, strength, and stamina. He was not much bigger than she was, though every difference counted, but he did seem to hold a little more bulk on his frame than she did. Nonetheless, Torla crouched down low and would shove her body into the ankles of his hind legs, attempting to dislodge his stance. It was performed playfully, of course, with no intention to do harm. The Tainn female didn't even know if it would work, given their mismatched strength, but she could only hope the element of surprise would work for her advantage.

Regardless of her attack's success, the bright-eyed wolf danced away after the attempt, swinging her body to see the stranger's retaliation. Merrily her tail swung harder than it had before, a bright grin worn on her usually serene face. This was <i>fun</i>.</blockquote>

Excitement seemed to whirl through the air as the two wolves stared each other down. It was not tense, no....it was far from that. It was a stare that beckoned for a good time. Fun. Something that he had rarely gotten to experience. With that, the lithe female leaped down gracefully, throwing herself into his lower legs. Taken by surprise, the man teetered, taking a few paces back before able to regain his balance.

With a playful snarl, he loped forth toward Torla as she jetted away. As he chased behind her, he extended a paw to hit her flank. It was like what a cheetah does in order to throw prey off...but he didn't go for the ankle like they do. With an almost child-like grin upon his face, Reed could not explain what he was feeling. This is what fun felt like? Waves of joy throwing itself through his veins; into his mind and expressing itself on his muzzle.

And this fun was produced all by meeting a wolf. One he had never met before, in fact. Indeed, it was bizarre, but he was not questioning it whatsoever. This was something he was going to cherish in his older heart. It was a pity that he really did not get to enjoy play; life was all but fun for him back in his old pack. It was about survival; an every day struggle. Boy, was he glad to have come here.

As his paw extended, Reed managed to glutch a wad of saliva that had built up in the back of his throat. Distracted by such fun, he had almost forgotten about breathing, blinking, and swallowing his own spit to exchange it for new saliva. How silly. This was all so silly, but he loved it.

<blockquote>As her body turned back to face the male Torla was quite surprised to see him almost immediately on her heel. The vision forced her to whip back around and attempt escape, yet he was far too close already. One paw came down upon her flank and, just as she had done to him, ruined her flight pattern. Torla twisted in an attempt to prevent herself from falling on the ground, but danced off to the side with reckless abandon until her balanced was regained. Her yellow-orange eyes were lit with the fire of play as she paused and observed him, bobbing back and forth like a boxer would weave. A delighted bark leapt from her throat and then the dusty-colored female sprung forward, laughter in her eyes while a playful grin stretched across her grey-accented face.

Mid-spring she felt amazingly free. Gentle winds tugged at her fur and the balmy air was far from unpleasant despite the physical activity. Her company was nothing short of fantastic as well. He was far from being her <span class='word'>agemate</span> and yet there was nothing of his years that prevented the red wolf from being just the sort of fun Torla enjoyed. Then her paws hit the grass once again and she forced her introspective thoughts to the back of her mind, at least long enough to feint left and then dash off to his right side.

Then Torla faced him with a nonchalant expression, as though she were trying to bait him. He had given her the first move; this was her returning the favor. Slowly she lowered her head, tail waving high in the air, as she waited for him to <i>show her what he was made out of</i> or something like that.</blockquote>

His paw had successfully made contact with her flank, sending her into a wobbly walk as her attack had done to him. With a coy grin upon his lips now, his eyes watched her as she regained her balance. The mottled female turned and gazed at him casually. With his tail low and wagging, Reed bounced into a play bow, his jaws now parting to allow himself to pant. The breezes were warm, but seemed to revive him as his muscles worked during the moments of play.

Golden eyes inspected her as they were both still; she was waiting for him to move. He glanced over her, observing every tense muscle, every fur that was to rise in excitement. With his breaths growing short, excitement began to flood through his chest as his mind made up his next physical actions. With a short and nasally grunt, the man banked right. His claws tore into the ground, sending shoots of grass as well as clumps of dirt into the warm afternoon air. Ears were pressed hard against his head as he now dove in toward the left, heading toward Torla with a wild expression in his eyes.

Within moments he neared, allowing his hind legs to lift himself upward. Front limbs extended, he attempted to throw himself over her shoulders and take her down. If he was able to do so, it would not be with his full weight, no... this was a play-fight, after all. And she was a lady. If she was a man, though, he'd have put more weight into such an action. Seconds seemed like minutes as he flung himself at her...

<blockquote>The flame of her eyes was focused entirely on the male as he panted, following every expansion and contraction of his chest as though she were attempting to put her mind into his body and read what his next move would be. Of course, such an intuition was entirely made of fantasy, but it did not stop the dusty she-wolf from reading every twitch of each muscle as though it would provide her with valuable insight. Torla was observant, and patient to boot, and liked to think herself fairly smart. Making strategic moves could only make the game more fun! There was a determination in her stare to prove her worth on her first day back, even if the desire to win was only as factious as the growls they swapped through the breeze.

Yet, it was clear that the Tainn woman was no master tactitian and would never fight with such skill that the male displayed during their play. In fact, she hoped to never have to draw anyone's blood at all, though the lack of will alone was but one factor in why she wasn’t the fiercest of fighters. Her lack of prowess saw him running right, leaning her weight accordingly and preparing to strike back while a toothy grin took over her orange-tinted face. Yet instead of following through and leaping at the side she had prepared for impact, the red male whipped to the left and pounced sans hesitation.

Torla, truthfully, stood no chance. He had bested her the very moment he had switched from feint to truthful intention and though she'd pulled the very same move, she was unable to see it herself. At the very least she was graceful as her lean form hit the ground, anticipating a good amount of weight to keep all the wind from knocking out of her gut. The man, however, forced her down with less strength than she'd expected - was he keeping some weight off of her on purpose? Torla was grateful for the effort. Many males did not know their own strength - she'd played with them growing up and occasionally they knocked her dusty hide well.

Back on the ground she laughed in bursts, fighting to recover the air she'd lost while the giggles escaped her jaws at the same time. A moment's time was taken to compose herself and after exhaling a deep breath she offered, "<b>Okay, I think it's fair if you win this one.</b>" A cheeky grin accompanying her <i>witty</i> retort - as though she'd ever been a contender! But she was thankful for the play and held no ill will for any reason, the happiness still shining in her stare.</blockquote>

The attack was successful; it had seemed that Torla did not expect his sudden veering to the left. His body met hers, and she fell in what seemed to be slow motion. Her feminine figure hit the ground, and within a few moments, she was laughing like a pup. At such, Reed smiled, laughing as well. His tail wagged to the point of being unstoppable. As the chuckles settled, though, the mottled woman spoke. Leaning back, he removed his body off of her.

"I appreciate such a fun time. Made me feel like a damn pup again!" He allowed himself to laugh once more, this time the laugh was very hardy. It formed in his chest, rumbling through his throat before escaping from his jaws and into the air. It boomed like thunder; a joyous laugh indeed. With his ears twitching, he allowed himself to take a few step backwards. Reed would give her space to rise up.

In his own silence now, he stood, eyes focusing upon her. He really did not have the time to observe her as they fought. She was quite pretty. A mix of colors... it would be wrong to deem her coat a specific color. Meanwhile, he was red. That's all. Within his mind he smiled, and then physically shook his head. He felt so old as he saw such pretty young women.

<blockquote>The man's laughter was contagious; even as she recuperated from her own the random giggle would escape her jaws. Her entire being was flooded with euphoria, a goofy grin inescapable upon her maw. As the male released his hold she flung herself forward, her very movement full of pristine energy, and shook out her short coat for a moment. Though she had righted herself the adrenaline took its time in wearing off, deep breaths accompanying her wild expression. Torla could care less how silly she appeared in the moment. The Tainn woman caught her breath before she altered her stance, pulling her legs in closer and standing a little straighter. She did not attempt to appear dominant, but merely add a little composure into her appearance. Still, her posture was for from its normal regalness - just a bit less... sloppy, perhaps.

"<b>Me too,</b>" she agreed, ignoring that he was perhaps twice her age. It didn't truly matter, for they were both adults and certainly they'd both seen trials that were far beyond the scope of puphood drama. Such matter, of course, was none of their concern for the moment. Their romp had been wonderfully freeing and Torla was, for the first time in a long time, free of worries about the Hidden Tree and her missing siblings and her lost parents. In all honesty, Torla had needed it, and even though she barely knew this red man she had nothing more than the utmost highest opinion of him.

Focusing once again on her gracious company, she smiled warmly and observed him much in the same manner he did to her. "<b>Thank you for that, sir. I'm Torla Tainn.</b> Her bright eyes shone genuine as she nodded her respects to the wolf. He'd been the perfect surprise in a wood that was usually full of unpleasant ones - so he had to know that she appreciated his company.
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