sharpen your knife

@Aleksei

His curiosity had been slaked – for now.  There were wolves about, and he supposed that was enough information to keep him busy for a day or two.  It had taken him a sun to travel down to this part of the woods, and he knew it would benefit him to return to Urotho, lest she buffet him with caustic remarks about his ability to navigate without her finer sense.  Snorting at the thought, he broke into a steady lope, hoping to expedite his travel.  

Winter was over, and while the mud was slick, travel was easy enough.  The mist was unpleasant, but it was above freezing, and Kjors supposed he would take his breaks were he could get them.  After all, his dark coat allowed him to slither into the shadows of the forest, and the damp air provided all the more hiding spots for a lithe wolf such as he.  In a way to travel, he had little interest in meeting others, lest they had juicy tidbits of information for him, but the lone male could not count on such fortune.  After all, he was a little known soul amongst a vast ecosystem, and it was beginning to seem it was far more populated than his prior home.

It kept everything interesting.

Slowing to a forward jog, the one-eyed dragon sought to give himself a brief rest when an unfamiliar scent tickled his nose.  Male.  Pack-animal.  Young?  Perhaps – it was difficult to tell on the last one.  But, he knew the wolf must be close, if he could detect his presence in such dismal weather.  The cool damp air was good for keeping one's mark close – so this stranger must be even closer still.  Drawing to a halt, the warrior let a curious chuff escape him.

"Who goes?" he demanded to know.

(This post was last modified: Apr 09, 2015, 12:19 AM by Maksim. Edit Reason: WoTD mistake; the tag's [*word] without the asterisk, for future reference! (: )

Aleksei pulled his head from the mangled tree roots with a sneeze, snorting an exhale to dislodge dirt and debris from his nostrils. He had thought something potentially edible had been hidden down there. Instead, he was met with nothing but spiders and pill bugs. This scavenging trip had been anything but fruitful, and the young River prince was growing desperate to bring something back to his mother. He had questions of all manners which he was desperate to ask, yet the one at the forefront of his mind was something he had overheard his father talking about; siblings.

Turning away from the particular tree, and glad to have his back to it now at that, the Baranski gave a moody little huff. This damned mist wasn't helping him any. Every little nook and cranny he looked under contained nothing but squelchy, damp mud (that was now caked upon his nose and chin)! Giving another few sniffs to the air, desperate to isolated the scent of some tasty little morsel, Aleksei began to follow his sniffer once more, completely oblivious to anything but the smell he was focused on: food.

And so when the gruff voice of another wolf called out in question, he was more than a little surprised.

The tawny wolf clumsily turned, tilting his head. Unable to see anyone, the maturing boy was left puzzled. Who exactly had said that, and where were they standing? A fleeting thought passed through Aleksei's mind: had he encroached on another pack's borders? As much as he had succumb to a scent-fueled tunnel vision, the River prince knew he simply wouldn't stumble over the lines of another's territory. He wasn't like Orren; he wasn't reckless. He was sure that this place was no-man's land. "Aleksei Baranski, sir." It was obvious from the tone of the stranger's voice that it was a male who was questioning the lad--best to address them as such, he supposed. "I'm not disturbing any pack's border, am I?" Ever the polite brother, Alek tried his best to appear respectful ... but as far as he could ascertain, this was neutral land; he would not bow in submission yet.

(This post was last modified: Apr 12, 2015, 05:22 PM by Aleksei.)

Let the roots & soil drink of me
Whispering leaves & pointing branches will tell them where I'm lying

Sir.

Oh, he did like the sound of that one.  A pleased growl reverberated in his chest, and the slender beast slunk forth from the shadows.  His tail flagged high above his body, a proud banner displaying his bearing as he approached the stranger.  It seemed his nose still served him truthfully.  Upon him was a male – a young male – who stunk of others despite seeming all on his own.  (Of course, this could be a trick, but Kjors could not detect deceit in the youth's tone and decided to proceed with abandon.  Trademark of a true dragon.)

Flashing his teeth in a wily smile, he sized the boy up in silence before speaking up to abate the child's worries.  "Naw.  No pack 'ere," he rumbled, single golden eye twinkling in merriment.  Such a polite thing!  Someone must have worked hard, must be very proud of the capabilities this upstart displayed.  "Aleksei.  Pleased t' meet ya.  An' where do y' hail from, Ah do wonder?  Can't say Ah recognize th' scent."

It was ignorance, yes, but there was only one way to cure such a filthy disease.  Besides, his new acquaintance was such a mannerly thing!  He would surely be obliged to answer.  Perhaps it was a family band – or perhaps it was something grander.  A pack?  What size?  How far?  Were they strong?  Recruiting?  Discerning?  So many questions he had, and such little time.  Alas, it wouldn't be appropriate to bombard the youngling with everything he could possibly think of.  If he wanted something, he might have to extend an offer, first.  "Y'hungry, kid?  Was thinkin' 'bout findin' some critter t' eat meself."

(This post was last modified: Apr 09, 2015, 01:20 AM by Kjors.)

A figure came sauntering towards him, cloaked in dark fur with one twinkling, golden eye that seemed to cut through the mist and the fog that shrouded the wolves. Frowning a fraction, Aleksei lifted his chin a smidge. He didn't like the way the older man held himself, with his tail held high, as if he were better than the youth. Did the stranger not know how to properly address the rightful heir to a pack?

Having said that, was the lad really in any position to dictate to an elder how he should be presenting himself? No. He decided to hold his tongue, even if he was left with a sense of frustration at being unable to assert himself as dominant in this situation. Then again, did other packs really care for the hierarchy of other families? The etiquette of cross-pack relationships was one lost on the learning prince. Perhaps, to whatever packs lay beyond the borders of Cut Rock River, the name Baranski meant nothing. It was almost hard to believe.

At least his worries about crossing a border were put to rest, the snake-like wolf smoothing away that niggling sensation of fretting. Instead, though, it was replaced with more irritation. Simply a loner then, who thought himself the king of this neutral territory. It seemed pointless--why would anyone attempt to assert any kind of dominance when they stood alone? Natural instinct to reassert some semblance of normality to the situation kicked in and the young Baranski's own tail stood proud as the loner questioned him once more.

"My family and I are the founders and lead family of Cut Rock River." Not technically true for Aleksei--whilst Maksim, his father, had claimed that territory, and birthed the River pack, Aleksei himself had not even been conceived at the time. Despite that, he wanted there to be some power behind him. Some subtle way to alert the older wolf that he wasn't talking to a pack subordinate. "Could I question you for your name, sir?" Alek gave a slight tilt of his head, yellow-green gaze never leaving that one burning eye.

The mention of food reminded Alek what exactly he had come here for. He gave a slow nod. "I was looking for something to take back to my mother. I wouldn't be against splitting the reward if you lent a set of teeth to the task of bringing something down, though." Perhaps he was pushing his luck a tad too far with such a request ...

(This post was last modified: Apr 12, 2015, 05:21 PM by Aleksei.)

Let the roots & soil drink of me
Whispering leaves & pointing branches will tell them where I'm lying

There is a family of deer nearby. Hunt Opportunity

Ask, and ye shall receive, Kjors!

Blessed be he who seeks opportunity, for with patience and persistence came a knocking on the hollow.  A prince and a founder, far from his home and willing to share some information!  The follies of youth, the dark wolf crooned internally.  A brief glance was cast upwards, towards the sky peeking through the dense canopy and veil of mist.  Thank you, Mother, he thought privately to the Giver of Life, and turned his twinkling gaze back to the young blood before him.  An eye for an eye, he supposed, and when bequeathed with such information, it would be inhospitable for him to withhold his own title.

"Ah'm Kjors, lad.  Kjors Sørenson, th' One-Eyed Dragon."  An appellation that meant little here, but the lithe male was confident that would change in time.  All it required was a little perseverance on his behalf, and given the rewards he'd already reaped, the wolf had little qualms about keeping steady on his path.  He inclined his head with the introduction, lowering his tail to a more agreeable position when it became clear Aleksei wasn't interested in an immediate show of dominance.  All well and good, really.  He wasn't in the mood for raging testosterone and the thick copper coating of blood on his tongue, either.

Bobbing his head a second time, he turned, inviting the pup to follow him into the brume with another short chuff.  He paced forward at a steady jog, only traveling several lengths before coming to an abrupt halt, and dropping low behind a fallen tree.  "There 're deer ahead," he rumbled, single eye shifting towards his new companion.  "Couple.  Must mean a fawn, yeah?  Y' chase it t' me, an' 'll bring it down, yeah?  Easy work.  No pro'lem 'fer two grown males, aye?" he rumbled lowly, his ears straining forward.

Kjors Sorenson. An interesting name, one that seemed to fit the darker male nicely. Aleksei would most certainly have to remember it. Despite the unease the youngster felt around the one-eyed timber initially--which proved to be nothing more than simple nerves--, the River prince was content in his company. Especially now as the silent dominance stand-off faded, both males settling into a rather neutral stance. He was his father's son, after all. What Baranski cowered in the face of danger? And yet ... "The One-Eyed Dragon?" The lad furrowed his brow a fraction. He had been told tales of dragons by his mother and father, monstrous and scaly beasts with wings like a bat's and teeth sharper than cut ice. His curiosity had been piqued; how had a wolf achieved a name like that? For a moment, the younger wolf worried.

What if this man was monstrous inside? Internally, Alek shook his head and attempted to shrug away that little pang of re-emerging distrust. It was pointless to jump to conclusions. After all, to the wolves of Kjors' homeland, a dragon could in fact be a noble thing. The tawny boy tilted his head slowly, ears pricking and nose twitching as the black and white male began to trot off. The prince could only presume that he was agreeing to the terms of sharing a kill. With a quick jog, he caught up to his current company just as he was alerted to the fact there was a group of deer in the vicinity. Spirits be praised! What luck!

Lowering to a crawl, he edged up beside Kjors with a nod of his head. The plan left him a little nervous. He had never hunted something this big without at least a member of Cut Rock River by his side, and so part of him saw this task as daunting ... and yet that ambitious burn in his chest screamed at him you can do this.

"No pro'lem 'fer two grown males, aye?"

Oh. Aleksei certainly liked that. Being referred to as a grown male, not a youngster or a cub. "Alright," he murmured quietly, won over by the possibly unintended compliment, "We need to get closer though, right? I can smell them, but ..." He eyed Kjors for a moment through the brume of the forest. "That's not good enough."

(This post was last modified: Apr 12, 2015, 05:18 PM by Aleksei.)

Let the roots & soil drink of me
Whispering leaves & pointing branches will tell them where I'm lying

Oh, yes. The One-Eyed Dragon. The first part of his title was obvious enough, his right eye carved out years ago and leaving a ragging scar. But how had he been likened to a scaled beast capable of breathing fire and reducing his enemies to ash? That was a story for another day – perhaps if Aleksei asked the right questions, he might be told – but that day was not today. There were much more pressing matters afoot: namely, the small gathering of deer hiding in the drapery of thick air and dense mist.

Nodding once, he acknowledged the youth's with a brief nod, one ear shifting in the lad's direction. He huffed once, and lifted his belly just off the edge of the forest floor. Single eye shifted back to the pack wolf, he encouraged him forward. Before they parted ways, he cleared his throat, and instructed the other wolf in a low voice, "Do naw flank me on me righ' side, got it?"

As Aleksei would flush their prey out of the thick brush, the dark timber wolf began to crawl at a ninety-degree angle to his new hunting partner. Hopefully, this wasn't his first group attempt, or he'd soon be plunged into chaos. Forcing himself to have faith in the young animal, Kjors reminded himself that the prince was just that, an heir to a leading family in a presumably large pack. Cooperation was practically forced down their throat as soon as the pups were old enough to open their eyes; surely his parents expected him to work with others. (Perhaps as his subordinates, but thankfully, the lad didn't seem too adverse to taking instructions. Cohesion was key here.)

Hunkering down behind scrub, he swiveled his ears, listening for any signal from his partner. Soon, soon…

Ambitious he may be, but reckless was something that Aleksei was most certainly not. He needed a plan, needed to have things run smoothly like a well-oiled machine; no hiccups. The two wolves began to shuffle away from one another, Kjors leaving the youthful Baranski with one last snippet of information: do not flank to his right. That much was obvious--the ugly, ragged scar that tore across his face clearly resulted in the man having no eye. Still, the lad nodded with a quick verbal acknowledgement. "Understood." Immediately after, he began to slink across the forest floor, each foot placed with tentative precision and care. He didn't want his first hunt outside of Cut Rock River's territory to be a flop on his part.

It didn't take him too long to circle around the deer and he popped his head from the undergrowth nervously, just to get a look. It seemed the older male had been correct: there was, indeed, a young fawn. Disappearing back into the scrubby vegetation, Aleksei took a deep breath, an attempt to calm his nerves. He could do this. He was a prince. He was the eldest. He had to set a good example, even if neither of his younger siblings could see. He had to make them proud. Prove to Karina there was nothing to fear, show Orren that it was good to listen ... he had to. He would. He could!

Alek leapt from his hiding space with a bark and a snap of his jaws, doing his best to emulate his teachers and parents. Throwing himself forward, he tried to squeeze between the mother and child, but the deer were quick to begin fleeing and all Aleksei could do was try his best to steer them towards the One-Eyed Dragon. "Kjors! They're coming!" The youngster was excited, and simultaneously petrified that he'd messed this all up somehow.

(This post was last modified: Apr 12, 2015, 05:16 PM by Aleksei.)

Let the roots & soil drink of me
Whispering leaves & pointing branches will tell them where I'm lying

Chocolate-dipped ears strained for any sound – the scuffle of hooves, the spray of dirt, even an excited yip on the youngsters part once he'd flushed the small family from their hiding spot. He didn't have the exact number, but could not imagine the group was bigger than three or four. All but quivering with tension, the explosion of motion was followed quickly by an urgent call, and the timber wolf swallowed the urge to whoop with excitement. His meals lately consisted of stupid, slow rodents. Occasionally he could supplement this with a fish here or there, and if he were truly lucky, he'd catch a rabbit too far from its den – but it had truly been ages since he'd had a good, full meal. His mouth watered with want of it.

Exploding forward, his single eye quickly found his mark. Greedy as he was, Kjors was too well aware that the mother would probably be too difficult a catch. If she'd survived long enough to breed, she'd probably outrun predators before – and there were only two of them, in an unfamiliar territory. The youngling was the only way to go. Aleksei had done decently, steering them in his general direction, and he met them at a forty-five degree angle in only a matter of strides.

Leaping forward, his jaw snapped around tender flesh and the dark wolf hung there on the fawn's hind limb. His left eye was to the animal, so he could no longer see outside of this hunt, and his partner disappeared into his blindness. Using his weight (what little weight he had, considering how small he was for a full grown male wolf), he threw his feet into the mud as he twisted, hoping to catch the fawn off guard. He would not be able to kill it, not without letting go – and letting go ran him the risk of losing their meal all together. It would be up to Aleksei to get in to make the killing blow. There was plenty of neck, surely the lad would be able to – but without instruction? Kjors could not speak, not with a mouthful of hide and hair, and could not instruct his companion any further as he struggled to keep his hold on the thrashing fawn.

(And he could not keep an eye upon its mother either, so let them hope she did not come back upon his blind side.)