Sex: MaleThe sun was shining high above the cedar trees, its golden rays shimmering in the blue of the river, bright beams falling between the branches inviting passersby to bask in their glow. But there was a distinct chill in the air, cool breezes rustling through the forest, tearing the needles off the trees to dry up on the forest floor. This morning had awoken to heavy mist hanging between the trunks and crystalline frost glittering on every surface, encouraging any wolf who could to stay in their dens for the day. And yet, a lanky form was making its way through the forest, dark and copper fur standing out stark against the green and brown of The Cedarwood. True, the fog had cleared and the sun had managed to clear away the worst of the rime, but the wind was still bitter, his breath forming little clouds in the air in front of his snout, But Orren Baranski was no little puppy; Not anymore! A little cold couldn't keep him from adventuring, even if it was making his ears tremble, just a bit. Not to worry though, as long as he kept moving, he would keep warm. And that was what he did, first without any specific goal, other than to explore the parts of the pack lands that he had yet to see - having learned his lesson from last time, he made sure to stick within pack borders, at least for now - then he started to fill thirst tickle in his throat, and turned towards the river. It didn't take long to reach it, the sparkling surface visible through the trees from quite far away, and the route boringly familiar to the young lad. Soon enough, he emerged from the trees and stopped for a moment to take in the scene. Cut Rock River was a magnificent sight, the dark, flat rocks breaking through the surface of the turquoise water to create a brilliant contrast, white foam gathering at the banks; even to a boy who had seen so little of the world, it wasn't hard to understand how the river had come to give name to his home. But today, something was amiss, the water was eerily still, the usual splashes around the bases of the rocks absent. Cut Rock had always been slow at this spot, shallow and clear, and Orren had noticed the water dwindling further over the last months, but never had he seen it so silent, completely unmoving. Lowering his masked head, the boy slowly started walking towards the bank, cautious of this unknown magic that had changed his home. Breathing deeply through his nose, he could still smell the water, but there was something odd about it. When he made it to the brink, he hesitated, starring at the surface with wrinkled brows; It don't look much different... Resolutely, he lowered his black nose, expecting to feel the wet chill of water enveloping it. He had the cold part right, but there was no wetness; instead, his snout bumped into something hard, making him jump back, head shooting upwards with a sharp yelp; "Ouw!" He shook his head vigorously, oranges eyes shooting an angry glare at the water; What happened?! He quickly recovered, eagerly moving back to the water's edge to investigate. Now that he knew about it, the surface did seem whiter and more unclear than normally to his eyes, and when he squinted, he could see a number of tiny lines running over it; What is this?! Following a sudden impulse, the mottled boy swiftly lifted a paw, setting it out onto the stiff water, freezing jabs shooting up through his pads as they made contact. Slowly, he moved his weight to the paw, staring in wonder as it stayed put on top of the water, almost forgetting the cold sensation. He almost had all his weight on the leg and was beginning to lift another when; crack! Once more, Orren jumped back, eyes wide as the studied the mysterious hard water; a long, white crack was stretching across it from where he had stood; "Magic..." He muttered, completely captivated by the strange phenomenon. Word count: 695 Thoughts ”Speech” |
The cold nipped at Rais' tufted ears and bony paws, though his plush silver coat managed to hold the heat close to his thin sides. While he could have easily hunkered down for the morning and let the sun warm the land first, uncomfortable conditions were often favorable for the little thief. After all, who would be out the first frosty morning of the season? He drifted northward of the marsh where he had been residing, only slowing when he neared what seemed to be a border of a pack. Sure, you could piss all you wanted on a patch of dirt, but it wasn't much of a barrier without someone standing guard. Rais zigged and zagged through the odoriferous boundary all morning, testing it by cautiously venturing in and then back out, to see if this patch of pack land really was as unprotected as it seemed. All morning he went unchallenged, not even a howl warning him away from the territory. Even if their vigilance was lacking in this one spot for the moment, Rais could tell that there was a pack here. Which, more importantly, meant he could probably find food. One problem with trespassing was that the whole place absolutely reeked of the stranger pack, nearly overwhelming his keen sense of smell. Relying more on his ears as he trespassed, he jolted when he heard a loud crack. A more wary wolf would have fled, but Rais's sense of curiosity was piqued. What could have made that noise? Ice? A tree branch? Some stags fighting over a mate? Rais hoped for the latter, since he might be able to eat the loser. Rais moved towards where he had heard the sound, soon coming to a half frozen river. It had probably looked impressive in the spring, but for now it was sluggish and glossy with ice. Ahh, that would explain the noise he had heard, then. His bright orange gaze followed the river downstream, and he caught sight of a coppery wolf. Shit. What were the chances he hadn't been seen? Well, maybe this could work out alright... "H-hey? Was that you?" Rais called as he trotted towards the wolf, letting some hesitancy, and a dash of nervousness, work into his voice. He stopped a good distance away, close enough to talk but far enough that he would have a head start in case a quick escape was required. |
table by bryony |
![[Image: LoneCrow1.png]](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v201/bluepups/LoneCrow1.png)
Slowly but surely, Maksim had recovered. No longer did he walk with a limp, nor did the rolling of his shoulders cause any great pain. No, the king would soon take back his throne with health on his side. Of course, he owed @Lachesis a great deal for the kindness and the ability he had shown. To take over a pack was no easy feat, and the ghostly male had done wonderfully in the agouti wolf's "absence". How did he know this, exactly? No ill had befallen the wolves of the River. No pups had disappeared, no further injuries from irritated elk.
The yelp of one of his children, however, instantly set him on high alert. He swiftly turned, his ears erect. Orren! The boy was no stranger to mischief making and exploration. Where Aleksei was careful in his outings, and @Karina shy, the middle son was boisterous and sought things that would be new and interesting. He had a knack for finding trouble, it seemed. as overprotective as it seemed, Maksim was quick to hunt down his youngest son. It was then that a sound sent a shiver down his spine and his hackles to raise.
Crack!
Without care for his healed injury, Maksim flew through the trees like a steam train, huffing as he went. If he had fallen into the river, beneath the ice that was forming ... by the stars, let his boy be alright! It was then that the scent of a stranger hit him full pelt and, in his uncharacteristic panic, the Baranski father let out an almighty snarl, leaping forwards. He landed with a thud between his child and the trespasser. He snapped his jaws, tail upright and his lip curled. "Get away from my son," he took a step forward and spat at the silvery vagabond, "and get out of my lands. Now."
Without wasting another moment on threats and displays of dominance, Maksim thundered forwards and towards the Rogue. No doubt, the lithe male would outrun the titan Mackenzie, but the agouti regal would damn well put the fear of god in his heart.
His eyes were on the white streak on the stiff water, a blurry reflection starring back at him from the surface. His head tilted curiously, ears perked in interest; that was until a sound upstream made them snap to the side, head following soon after. Tangerine gaze fell on a silvery form, approaching along the river, steps determined, clearly headed for the copper lad. Orren's ears pressed back instantly, eyes widening as the stranger's smell drifted t him on the wind; the young Baranski didn't know this slender wolf, and his scent made it clear why: he did not bear the mark of his parents, he was not a member of the pack. Outsider! The rust tinted boy felt his fur stand on end, hackles rising to almost double their normal height. His lips instinctively curled back to show bared teeth, and when the grey man spoke, a low rumble emitted from Orren's throat. He was hardly an intimidating image, small and lanky, and though he did his best to put up a brave front, his tail was curling in between his legs in fear. The other wolf might not be much bigger than him, but the young prince knew nothing of fighting. Run! A voice whispered in his head, but how could he? This stranger was trespassing, on his land, he couldn't just let him get away with it. As the pale male came to a stop, Orren tried to snarl a threat, but it came out high pitched and frail, not nearly as threatening as he had hoped, and even as the sound escaped him, he was retreating, backing up on stiff legs; What to do? What to do?! He attempted another growl, and just then, a bellowing roar sounded over the river, making the young River wolf's heart pound even faster; but it was not in fear. "Dad!" He barked, just as the pale-agouti giant sprang from the trees, facing the stranger. Orren watched in awe as his sire unleashed his fury on the intruder, his presence every bit as frightening as the boys had failed to be. Maksim charged at the silver male, and his son barked a cheer, his former terror gone, now that his father had come to protect him. Word count: 376 Thoughts ”Speech” |
Rais had little to fear from the snarling coppery youth, who still looked like he hadn't quite grown into his overly large paws yet. While the boy was making a show of snarling at him, everything about his body language told Rais that he was more frightened than anything else. Such a negative reaction wasn't ideal, but of course that would have been too easy. However, as an opportunistic sort, Rais sensed an opening for manipulation and figured he could probably still strongarm the kid into getting him to take him to the caches. Rais' scheming was suddenly cut short when the frenzied sound of heavy pawsteps made it to his ears. Instinctively Rais crouched back, his limbs tense in anticipation of needing to make a quick escape. Rais winced as a massive wolf leaped between them. Rais remembered the last time he'd gone head to head with such a hefty looking wolf. It hadn't turned out very well for him that time, and this time there wasn't even a pretty lady worth fighting over. Rais hardly waited for the beast of a wolf to speak. After all, what else could be said that wasn't already evident in his rumbling snarl and brandished tail. He knew he was outmatched and that the only way to come out of this on top was to get out of there as fast as his feet would take him. Rais thrust his legs into the earth, launching back like a hare as he spun mid-air. He was already running before his paws met the ground again, and like a bolt of lightning he was off, leaving nothing but a cloud of dust and pawprints behind. |
table by bryony |
Orren's yell, and his cheer, went right over the agouti male's head as he rushed forward, the younger trespasser twisting through the air like a startled rabbit as he made to get away fast. The Mackenzie titan wasn't going to let this one get away easily--the larger male was slower, by a landslide, and yet he still gave chase. The weasel of a wolf had trespassed into the River pack's territory and, to make matters worse, he knew he had done so. He made no effort to apologise, to explain he didn't catch scent of the borders. Guilty parties never pushed their luck with law. They just fled the scene of their crime.
He thundered forwards, paws spewing up damp dirt and decomposing foliage behind him. It was almost as if each step Maksim made could shattered stone, the force behind each thud of a footfall ringing in his ears. The peppered wolf was beginning to slip away, Maksim panting as he charged onwards still. The vagabond was faster, there was no denying that ... but the benefits of being a pack wolf, of founding the very territory he patrolled, was that he knew this terrain. Each dip was navigated with ease, callous paws adjusted to the fallen needles of cedar trees and slippery, wet rocks.
Maybe, just maybe, he could use it to his advantage.
With a forced heave, his back legs pushing with all their might, Maksim leapt forward towards the fleeing loner. With a thunderous snarl, he opened his jaws and snapped them shut, hoping that, if Lady Luck were on his side today, he'd manage to grab a nice clump of tail fur to bring back to his son.
- I think we should have at least on more post from @Rais, just for a definite exit.
The boy craned his neck to look around the giant body of his father, pleased to see that the grey scoundrel was now suitably angst about the situation; body crouched, muscles tense. Then Maksim lunged, and the stray spun on his heels, racing off the way he had come; which happened first, the copper child couldn't say, but they were both running now, away from him. It took him only the time of a blink, standing in place, staring after the two males, mouth agape, to make his decision. With a yelp of excitement, Orren raced off after his sire, lanky legs carrying him swiftly over the frozen ground. He was untrained, having yet to grow into his large paws, but he wasn't too slow; running was something he had done quite a lot of since he was old enough to leave the den. "Yeah, get out of our land!" He yelled at the top of his lounges, excitement making his voice sound more happy than angry or threatening, but it didn't matter. Eyes zeroing in on the silver tail disappearing in the distance, the young wolf pushed himself to his utmost, lunges soon gasping for air too keep up with the exertion. But he didn't care, he was gonna catch this intruder; I'll get 'im dad! His claws dug at the needle-covered dirt, legs propelling him forwards in an almost hazardous manner; Ain't no one gonna sneak in here like that! He'd show him! With his dad close by, the boy was no longer scared. Word count: 256 Thoughts ”Speech” |
Rais legs stretched to their full potential with each bounding stride, his black claws digging into the damp ground for extra traction. The sounds of his heart and breath filled his folded ears, but Rais could still hear the rumbling steps of the cedarwood brute just behind him. The little rogue was nimble like a fox, and as he ran he bounded over and around boulders, trees, and logs with a hope that the bigger wolf might get tangled up. But he was on strange territory and his pursuers had the benefit of knowing the terrain better than he did. No matter what he could still hear the monstrous alpha barreling after him, twigs snapping underpaw with a sound Rais imagined his bones would make if he let himself get caught. No matter what he couldn't seem to shake the stupid pack wolf off, and was starting to wonder if the beast would ever tire. But giving up wasn't even an option, unless Rais had a death wish. He hadn't realized how much ground the wolf had gained on him until he heard a snarl from behind him much louder -- and much closer -- than it should have been. Rais' already round eyes bugged out like an owl as he felt a tug and a sharp pinch on the tip of his tail. Oh no. But he couldn't stop, and if he did stop his tail wouldn't be the only thing getting chomped. With a half yelp, half growl Rais dug his clawed feet into the ground and leaped forward. For a precipitous second he was motionless, before finally snapping free and bolting off with renewed vigor. He hadn't escaped in one piece, but he'd be damned if he would be going back to retrieve the silvery brush of his tail's tip, now clasped between the river king's teeth. |
table by bryony |