Wild Cherry Orchard all quiet on the western front

does planning count toward the hunting posts? 'cause then we're on 2/8

Such lofty praise. Craw smirked, having not missed the small nod either; the hunter was warming to him. Whether or not Craw was warming to the hunter he had not yet decided. No guarantees were made regarding the capture of two, though of course it was functionally impossible to promise any such thing. He would just have to watch this hunter closely and see if his intentions were good regardless of the outcome. It was a fortunate thing that the hunger in his belly was currently asleep, otherwise he would have put a lot more importance on a successful hunt. Having a bird to stash for a needier day, though, was a deeply appealing prospect.

Seeing as they were pretending at being very comfortable with one another, Craw fell easily in line with the smaller man, keeping just enough space between them to be comfortable. Just as the hunter's attention never strayed from Craw, did Craw's never stray from him, each keeping an ear pointed on the other. But there was no practical benefit in betrayal now, unless the one-eyed man was simply predisposed to anarchy, and he did not strike Craw as the type.

Silently they moved, Craw content to be lead, for it was clear that the one-eyed man was far more familiar with the area. He knew when to make use of another's superior knowledge. Once the welcome aroma of bird shit hit them, Craw at least knew that the hunter's initial intentions were pure. The pair slowed, and Craw tested the air, wanting to better determine the wind's direction and the flock's location relative to that. His breathing deliberately grew lighter, as he had to concentrate to pull air into his lungs in such a way that minimised the wheeze; it was uncomfortable to focus on for too long, but hopefully it would not take too long.

He grunted at the hunter's question by way of affirmation. He had no doubt that, if only one bird was caught, the one-eyed man would claim it for himself; Craw had already received enough charity. Moving cautiously and quietly forward, he tried to gain a view of the flock through the trees, their silence heavy. They were noisy birds when startled, and soon the quiet day would erupt once more in honks and shrieks and the flap of many wings. He could see glimpses of white and brown feathers, the plain awash with them, and eyed the tree line. Glancing back at the hunter, he jerked his head towards the line of cherry trees which wrapped around the open space the flock had landed in. "If I force some into the farther trees, they'll find it harder to take flight. Unless you're a sprinter, in which case we can pick two likely ones, and you can try your luck."

I'm pretty certain that tracking/planning are all part of the hunt!

Kjors joined his hunting comrade as the white wolf sunk into the dying grasses, slipping below the veritable horizon as the pair slipped like wild cats through the reeds. Settling several lengths away and downwind from the flock, the smaller male settled his belly on the ground, virtually vanishing as they discussed the finer details of their plan. One ear remained forward, pointed at their choice of prey while the other swiveled sideways, acknowledging his partner. With only an empty socket facing @Craw, the tipped ear was all he could offer.

Weighing their options in silence, he bobbed his head once. Ultimately, this plan could only benefit him – his belly was already fully, and there were still scrapes of feathers he could return to @Karina if this plan failed. Where they successful, he would have an entire meal for the girl, and plenty of downy to line their nest for the coming winter months. He had no worry if the loner failed to do his part – it simply meant the second goose would not be taken from its flock, and the wraith would leave with empty paws. There was no question in his mind. Even if the loner should be consumed by greed, Kjors was in fighting condition, and the wayworn wolf was anything but.

Offering a show of teeth, the dragon gave a second nod. “Ah’ll get behin’ th’ trees, then,” he agreed. It would allow him the opportunity of surprise, and the ability to lunge and snap a goose out of the air. Kjors had little doubt the first would be an easy kill, but taking a second while the flock was still frenzied would be a true test of his abilities. The male grinned. He did so relish a challenge.

“As Ah’m gettin’ th’ first, make sure t’ corner another, that they ain’t all gone once Ah get th’ first one killed.”

With that, he rose, barely half his height as he slunk through the grass slowly towards the next row of trees. It would be up to Craw to time the startle well – he had to have faith the male was even capable of such.

4/8

The plan was set, and Craw huffed his understanding and agreement. He was focused on the shifting bodies of brown and white, finally letting himself trust the dark hunter long enough to properly gauge the flock and its immediate surroundings. The one-eyed man slunk away, quick and quiet, and Craw watched him go just long enough to know which part of the farther tree line he could expect the man to be hidden in.

In truth, he did not enjoy hunting small prey. Craw was not built for agility and the quick maneuvers necessary for bringing down lithe, flighty things, but for overpowering large, lumbering beasts with brute strength and determination. The pale wolf crawled as close to the flock as he dared, knowing that both his pelt and breathing were easy giveaways if he was not careful. Since he did not often hunt them, he did not know the typical attitude of a goose - and this turned out to be a good opportunity to find out.

He had never known how aggressive these animals were. For some reason, there was a general unease throughout the congregated birds, as though it had been someone's decision to land here and everybody hated him. Geese snapped irritably at others as they passed, hissing and occasionally honking in displeasure. Craw found that he enjoyed watching their sour mood very much, particularly as he knew that he was about to help make it worse.

Yellow eyes scanning through the uneasy group, his predatory instincts honed in on exploitable weaknesses - but birds hid their sickness better than mammals. Or he just wasn't as good as reading them. Nevertheless, he did spot a bird which refused to use one of its feet properly, preferring a heavy limp. Calculating the direction between himself, it, and the hunter somewhere hidden in the treeline, Craw determined that it would make a suitable candidate for chasing towards his temporary ally. If nothing else, it should take longer for the thing to get enough speed to fly, and hopefully it would make for a quick dispatch.

How to guarantee a second such opportunity, though? Craw knew that it would be difficult for the hunter to down two before the second had a chance to escape, and Craw did not fancy his own chances with outrunning one. He was contemplating going after the lame goose himself when his attention fell upon another, much larger goose, and a very different approach occurred to him.

Watching the bulky bird swagger about and snap at its neighbours, squawking its dominance, Craw felt that he recognised its innate hostility, its arrogance, and wondered if it could be as easily manipulated as any such egotistical creature. His weight shifted from paw to paw as he tested his muscles, hoping that his reflexes would be good enough - but if he was right, then he would not need to rely on them too much. Pinpointing the limping target once more, Craw edged forward, letting the air flow a little easier through his throat (and becoming a little noisier in the process) as he determined that the one-eyed hunter had been given ample time to prepare. Perhaps he had even spotted the lame goose himself.

He made no sound as he leapt forward, directly towards the smaller bird, and for a moment the flock did not react - but then they erupted in shouts and flapping wings and angry panic as a predator propelled himself into their midst. The poor lame bird, far feebler of mind, flailed as it fled, falling heavily onto its bad foot with each hurried step, wanting only to get away; seeing it head for the trees, Craw slowed, and hoped that the hunter would do the rest. Now came part two.

His run turned to an almost lazy jog, as geese around him either ran or bit at the air towards him or both, but Craw only had eyes for his brawny goose. He smirked, all teeth, as he saw the animal watching him, honking angrily and spreading its wings, making itself much larger. To make the challenge more appealing, Craw did the opposite, trying to shrink himself as he trotted toward the bird, inspired to add a limp of his own. Any prey animal could see that he was poorly nourished, weak, slow, and apparently very indecisive - and until his partner made himself known, he was also alone. The burly, haughty goose could read it all and fancied its chances at some glorious predator-shooing.

An eager rumble in his chest, Craw moved to meet it, angling himself such that if and when the goose attacked him, it would be facing away from the farther line of trees. No point in not exploiting the situation as much as he possibly could.

The dragon slithered through the grass with easy, ears rolled back and tail held still. The art of espial was not foreign to him, though it had been some time since the dragon had practiced anything other than his combat or comforting skills. Pack life was changing him, and the one-eyed wonder was not sure it was for the best. All the same, perhaps the Mother wouldn’t have led him to Hearthwood River if it was not the correct path, and truthfully, now was not the time to be questioning where his life choices had taken him. There were geese to be had.

Settling himself near the tree line, the umber wolf all but disappeared into the dead grass and shadows cast by skeletal trees. His breathing evened out as he kneaded the ground, slowly becoming one with the earth all together as he waited for @Craw to make his move. All at once, the flock of disgruntled geese exploded before him, a show of feathery fireworks as fat-bodied birds darted in all directions. The most skittish types had taken to the air all at once, not willing to risk any contact with the predator. Others simply ran as fast as their stumpy legs would take them, not willing to exert the energy when it was more than likely one of their mates would be taken instead. Others still moved in a frenzied panic – these were the easiest to harvest, not using their right mind.

His single golden eye locked onto the lame goose at once, lips curled back in an ugly snarl. The serpent burst from the reeds with a raspy noise, giving the bird no time to pedal away. In a single breath, he was upon her, his teeth sinking into her neck as the panicked animal brayed. She had not the fight of his first kill and Kjors thrashed his neck, learning from the earlier hunt. The gimp goose went down with a final lament and she was dropped, left to bleed out as the hunter immediately sunk back into the grass, searching his field of vision wildly for both Craw and his next pick. Much more on edge, the animals were not inclined to take this so lightly, but it seemed the lone wolf had picked a target not unlike himself – big, bold, and perhaps a bit too brave for its well-being.

The toothy grin returned, all ivory knives and thirsty whispers. He waited as the pair circled each other, this dance could go on until he was given a single, and the lithe wolf would bound forth once more.

6/8

While geese continued to take off and flail noisily about all throughout the clearing, Craw kept one eye on his brave bird and the other on the lame one he had sent the hunter's way. A satisfied smirk flashed across his face as he saw his partner make his move, targetting the vulnerable goose Craw had set up for him. He missed witnessing the killing blow, for his part in the skirmish wasn't over, and while his second target was big and arrogant, it wasn't quite entirely stupid. Seeing the momentary confidence in Craw's body language, though it didn't know why, Craw recognised that he would have to improve his performance if he was going to encourage the goose to stick around, even while most of his compatriots were noping out of there.

It was fortunate that the geese were so loud, for it completely smothered any cries that the hunter's prey would have made - and when Craw chanced a glance in that direction again, he saw the dark one-eyed man slink back down into the grasses. Craw would have to assume that meant that the first bird was dead.

Seeing the beginnings of hesitation in his bold goose's manner, Craw decided to force the matter. Even with all his perceived weaknesses, he supposed, the size difference must still be intimidating. Seeing the cowardice of your kin couldn't have helped. He took a sudden leap forward, all snarls, and the goose reacted with both fear and fury, flapping as it jumped back but snapped at his face. Though it missed, Craw promptly pretended otherwise; recoiling with a whine, he slunk back a few steps, and the bird recognised its success. Fear melting away at the pathetic predator in front of it, the goose lurched forward in a grand display of bravery, biting at any part of Craw it could reach, its focus narrowing to the only danger it knew about.

While he had endured much worse in the last few months, Craw hoped that the hunter would exploit the bird's distraction soon, for he didn't much fancy paying for a meal with an eye.

Bold, brave, and not completely stupid, it seemed. The swaggering goose had picked up on something, be it the momentary lapse in Craw’s farce, or the panic rippling through the rest of its flock. While it didn’t seem to be keen on immediate flight, it was watching the white wolf with more care now – if the pair of hunters didn’t act quickly, their opportunity would be lost. With the bravest fleeing now, they’d be lucky to harvest the sick or the wounded, and their chances of a kill for each would be reduced from slim to none. The dragon swallowed a growl, remaining as silent as he was able, and slunk closer. He would need to be as close as possible to spring the perfect ambush, and the swarthy male once again vanished completely into the earth, waiting for the dynamic pair to dance closer.

Once the gander came storming after the lone wolf, the older male exploded from his shadow in a glorious ambuscade, all fire and brimstone. The cloud of air from his nose became a steady stream of smoke, dark wings unfolding as he soared across the ground in steady bounds, upon the prey before it could so much as stutter sideways. With a mighty roar, the dragon did lunge, gaping jaws aiming for the animal’s throat as they both clattered towards the cool earth. In the prime of his health, this gander had far more fight in him than either of his previous kills, but Kjors came alive with the fight as he twisted and tugged, half-blinded to the goose’s wild swings as he made to try and shake it to the ground.

It sorely tested his patience not to simply engage the bird once it began to assault him more wholeheartedly, particularly when it bit at his ear and cheek and left pinched, sore flesh behind. Overpowering it would not be a problem, but since he constantly had to treat his health and energy as valuable, finite resources, he knew that it was a wiser decision to let the dark hunter strike the goose unawares. To change tactics and attack head-on would have resulted in a far nastier struggle than a surprise attack from the rear.

So necessarily focused on the vicious bird's onslaught, Craw did not see his backup until it was almost upon the goose. Suddenly the entire dynamic shifted, with the animal now facing an entirely new threat that it had been unprepared for, and Craw fancied that he saw an accusation of trickery in the bird's face before it went tumbling down with the one-eyed hunter. All pretence of weakness fell from Craw (leaving behind only the true ones) as he watched the pair scrap for a moment, wondering if his inclusion would help or hinder. Despite being a hefty specimen, it was still a small animal in comparison to the two wolves who wanted to eat it, and Craw did not want to risk friendly fire. It was too messy.

An opportunity arose, though, in a split second. In its angry distress, now focused on the dark wolf, the goose flapped its wings as it tried to use them as leverage to get away, either by thwacking the wolf or propelling itself away - and as it spread them, its left wing extended towards Craw, he struck.

Clamping down on the forelimb, Craw braced himself and then jerked himself backwards. With the goose tangled in the hunter's embrace, and Craw's strength, the wing tore clean out of its socket, drawing a whole new kind of noise from the once-proud goose.

The goose flailed in his grasp, feathers flying as the pair grappled through the melee. His paws stomped against the earth, talons digging into the earth as he grappled against the large gander as he fought for purchase. This bird was much larger, healthier, and much angrier than the others, but Kjors relished in the challenge. A growl rippled from his throat as he twisted his head, trying to force the bird down when he felt another weight on the bird. It occurred to him then that the loner was actually assisting him – between two wolves, the prize would be subdued much more quickly.

As the animal wailed, it began to lose its focus, and the dragon was given the opportunity he needed. With its attention on Craw and the searing pain in its wing, the swarthy male was able to shake his head violently, using the goose’s own weight to snap the animal’s neck. All at once, the struggle ceased and the weight dropped against both the males. Pausing for a moment to make sure it wasn’t a ruse, Kjors dropped the goose gingerly from his mouth, giving himself a soft shake as he worked his lower jaw. “He’s in fer th’ long sleep, now,” he rumbled, satisfaction dripping from his tone. Single eye drifted upwards to take the white wolf in, noticing he was not badly damaged in his initial tussle with the creature.

“Suppose its time t’ divide ‘em up, huh? This one’s more beat up. Ain’t gonna be much ‘fer th’ feathers,” he sighed. Despite it’s larger larger size, and thus, greater amount of feathers, he could already see the stains of blood, the ripped flesh – that, and a heavier weight would be much harder to carry back to his princess at home. “Y’wan’ this one?”

It was over. Craw could only imagine the searing pain of losing an entire limb in a moment like that, of the utter defeat it represented, the total loss of hope. Those final moments, in which the dark hunter finished the bird's struggle, must have been pure hell.

Such was the end of those who had not the strength to win. As with many animals before it, the goose would die so that the wolf who killed it could live, and so the cycle would continue. As he tossed the wing aside, for its worth in meat was negligible, Craw watched the one-eyed man release a now-limp corpse from his mouth, satisfaction of their success evident in his tone and every movement. It was a good victory, and Craw took pleasure in it being a joint one; he was not a wolf made for working solo.

The dark hunter proved an honourable man, and Craw's concerns of the packwolf taking all the spoils for himself were unfounded. Whether or not he would have been so fair if only one bird had been killed, though, Craw could only speculate on. Nodding at the other's assessment, a lazy grin curling his lips, Craw stepped forward to tug at the brawny bird, testing its weight. Satisfied, he laid it down for a moment. Two yellow eyes fixed on one, he inclined his head in respect. He had precious meat, now, and the hunter had something for his pack's caches - and more feathers for his female. It was a good deal for the both of them.

"Pleasure doing business with you," he rumbled, before gathering his share of the hunt and turning south. He had thought of an excellent use for the bird, assuming circumstances allowed.

Thankfully, it did not seem Craw was much in the mood to argue with his logic. He would be a fool to, the dragon thought, seeing as he was being offered the larger of the kills. The lame goose was a bit lighter, having lost wait with its ailment – it would probably be a bit stringier a well, but the one-eyed hunter had eaten his feel even before his companion had stumbled across him in the orchard. And while he played his part, deploying the plan to flummox a second goose while the first was put to sleep, there was always the possibility that the larger male would consider this his right to take both prizes.

It was a paranoia, but perhaps that was the price he paid as the lord inside his own mind. Kjors had always thought himself master of the house. He was so quick to catch yer eye and never did want a passerby to pass him by. Collaborations such as these would be lost, should he lose his ability to stand out from the crowd.

All the same, the white wolf was given a simple bob of the head. “Same t’ ya,” the River wolf agreed. Now that Craw had his fill, the older male turned back to where he’d left his original kill. Jogging over easily, he scooped up his prize, and from there he headed due east, eager to bring the downy back for his princess.

Exit.