Windsong Fjord [M] Teeth bared bright in the dying sun

Ordinary tactics weren't working, the skills which had been trained with a capable body and full tank were entirely inappropriate. Now that the last dregs of energy had been used up, as well as the brief injection of adrenaline, there was largely one force which continued to power Craw: the look on his rival's face. The pity there, the confusion, the disbelief. Even in his state, Craw clung to his justifications for the conflict. It was too late to do otherwise. His belief that characterful weakness might yet win the match was drawing thin, for his rival proved in better condition and equal stubbornness, which made him a formidable opponent in this circumstance.

To his credit, the wolf was actually trying to finish it, and Craw could respect that.

It wasn't that they could have shared it Such altruism to strangers and competitors in life had been drilled out of him by his father, and if he waited his turn, who was to say that some meaner scavenger would not decide to skip the line? It had made sense to fight for his right to the quickest access to the meat. When it was clear that the combat was increasingly one sided, Craw had to make a change.

Deliberately slowing his last attack, Craw made sure to give the impression of dulled reactions and movement, seeing how effortlessly his rival avoided the attempt. Then the heist was revealed; when the smaller wolf came at Craw again, teeth all clumsy and thirsty for blood, the starving wolf expended a burst of energy left in the very bottom of his reserve to move away. He took a dark pleasure in the minute victory, seeing the clear surprise in his rival's movements, and used his momentum to open his jaws and snag his lower canines into the other's right thigh, the movement of both of them leaving a long, jagged and ugly gash up to his rump.

Now his blood was not the only one spilled. Chest heaving with exhaustion, blood trickling down his shoulders and sides, and with no other surprises in store, Craw simply turned himself to face his rival's inevitable retaliation, ready. He spat out the blood in his mouth, then bared his teeth again, the invitation clear. Let no-one say he worked in half-measures.

ooc: @Craw after this if you want to fade the thread out and pp Ken leaving after having eaten his fill, that's fine. Thankies for the fight!

---

PAIN! Kenelm howled and staggered away before his right hind leg could buckle underneath him; blood splattered across his leg and onto the ground, drawing a fresh crimson line behind him as he swung around and snarled at an opponent who for the moment he could not see. His eyes watered with the pain; the haze of it filled his mind and clouded his vision, and with it came unwanted memories and a searing, vicious anger. For one brief, wild moment, the ghostly man in front of him seemed darker in color, less scarred, better fed. His yellow eyes shifted for an instant from yellow to deep, muddy brown; when he spat Kenelm's blood and bared his teeth, Kenelm saw a different muzzle twisted in a vicious grin. "What's the matter, mutt?" a different voice taunted him. "Tiring out already?" This man was no different, though his coat was pale and his eyes gleamed like a cat's. He was just another brute, forcing Kenelm to his ugliest. Another beast who thought himself superior, thought himself better worth survival than Kenelm simply because of the differences in their fates - Not again! Kenelm roared and barrelled forward, knocking the other wolf off his feet and sinking his teeth and claws again into the man's shoulder. Flesh came apart, flooding Kenelm's mouth with blood as he shook his head and tore at the skeletal wolf beneath him. He felt the man crumble underneath him and followed his momentum, rolling the other over and pinning him on his back. His teeth closed around the other man's muzzle, not quite hard enough to draw blood, but certainly not gently, either. It was time for this fool to stop - one way or the other. Never again...

(This post was last modified: Sep 17, 2015, 05:37 AM by Kenelm.)

With ash on the wind, I move forward...

Let's Cause Some Chaos

It had been his final trick, he knew, and as his rival leapt about, outraged and disbelieving that Craw had evened the score a little, Craw felt that he saw some measure of madness in those eyes. What energy he had left went into stiffening himself, bracing himself for the attack, for there was nothing left in the tank to do anything else. He could feel pure exhaustion and hunger seeping into every corner of his body. It would soon be over.

Seeing that glimpse of madness made him wonder what kind of over it would be. Perhaps he had misjudged his opponent's nature. Perhaps this was how it all ended, in a scramble for nothing more glorious than surviving for one more day.

When the wolf came, he enacted great retribution for his poor little leg, easily forcing Craw onto his back and biting at any exposed flesh he could while Craw snapped and twisted to no real effect. It felt entirely strange to be so strong in his mind but so powerless to overcome the raging beast which pinned him down. Surrender was forced the moment that his rival's jaws clamped down on his own, taking away the only weapons he had left.

The growl in Craw's throat died down to his usual wheeze, his resistance finally coming to an end. It was over. Staring at the wolf's eyes so close to his own, Craw went still, ears pulled back, and accepted defeat. It was several long moments, where he was sure that the madness still flickered in those pale eyes, before his submission was accepted. His rival let go and pulled away, leaving Craw a bloody mess on his back, and moved towards the elk carcass to claim his prize. It took Craw several moments to be able to move, his limbs stiff and sore and the ground painful on the bite wounds on his neck, shoulders and flanks. Slowly he rolled over to his feet, forcing himself to move, and summarily retreated to a suitable distance to allow the victor his space and time to fill his stomach.

Craw watched the feasting quite openly, unashamed of his hunger, and unashamed of his attempt to earn first scavenging rights. As the time drew on, he grew anxious and frustrated, so close to a life-preserving essence that was forbidden until the victor abandoned it. He salivated so thickly that it dribbled down his open, mouth, the movement of his panting sending flecks flying over himself and the ground. Constantly he feared that some bear - or anything lesser - would come to do exactly as he had, for it would send him automatically to the back of the queue.

No matter how long it took, he would take the leavings,, no matter if it left him chewing bones.

Finally the victor satisfied himself, and Craw watched him leave the carcass, able to control himself enough not to edge closer as the wolf moved away. It was only when the other fell out of view did Craw stand, his joints creaking, finally the uncontested owner of the elk remains.

There was no room for pride in circumstances like these.