Drooping Willows [M] And if they fell as Lucifer fell

ooc: @Sven - dated 10-24-15, midday. Response to Peirus' Halloween RE: "You scavenge a carcass only to find that it is overgrown with maggots... And what's that thing crawling out of its chest?"

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There was no real reason why Peirus should still be here among the willows; he had no further business here, and so by all rights he should really consider moving on. He simply found himself unwilling to leave just yet - a momentary lapse in purpose, nothing more. As long as he insisted on remaining in this place, the least he could do was make the most of his time here by filling up his stomach and memorizing the area for future reference. With any luck, he might even stumble upon yet another of @Morganna and @Craw's pack mates; the thought made him grin wickedly to himself as he padded through the trees.

It was not terribly long before he picked up the stench of rotting meat. It was not exactly an enticing scent, but to one with an empty belly any dinner bell was worth following to the source. With a flick of one ear, the Asurn turned his paws towards the reek, his nostrils flaring as a low breeze set the leaves above to a tremulous dance. Whatever carcass was nearby, it was one that had been dead for more than a day or two, that much was apparent. No matter; a meal was a meal. If he could not slate his thirst on fresh blood, he would dull the gnawing in his belly with rotted flesh. The result would be the same either way.

The stench lead him to the ribboned remains of a doe; darkened meat hung in strips from bloodstained bones, and the organs had been spilled across the ground by some thankless beast who had not possessed the good sense to eat more than its fair fill before moving on. Likely this was the work of a bear; the creatures were brainless brutes at best, prone even on the cusp of winter to over hunting and wasting. Whatever beast was responsible, its foolishness would be Peirus' gain.

He was in for a nasty surprise, however. As the man lowered his head to tear at what remained, his eyes landed on the squirming shape of a maggot crawling about the doe's flayed remains. As with all crawling vermin, finding the first soon made Peirus aware of the scores of others chewing their way through the foetid meat. Soon his ears began to detect the sounds their tiny, gnawing mouths made, hundreds of minuscule maws ripping away thousands of tiny bites from the slowly decomposing corpse.

Nose wrinkling with disgust, Peirus reared back and took a step away from the doe. Her neck was broken, her head thrown back at an unnatural angle to stare glassily back at Peirus. The Asurn met that dead gaze coolly, half of a mind to rip her eye out just to spite the creature for being so infested when he was hungry. But no; the childlike display would not be worth the possibility of chewing down and setting a horde of maggots scurrying into his mouth. The little devils devoured anything soft enough to chew; surely some were in or travelling towards the eye of the deer even now. Pity.

Word Count: 519

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(This post was last modified: Oct 25, 2015, 10:07 PM by Peirus.)

Hello, little one. Would you like to play a game with me?

SVEN ARCHER

& the night is closing in

A certain scent had passed through his lungs several times now over the past week or so, and as it did so at this moment on a particularly lazy afternoon, Sven's suspicions were at last roused. No longer could this be considered passing through; someone was lurking outside of his domain, and even if they had been extended a welcome, by Sven's accord it was now thoroughly worn. Without hesitation the youth turned his gait to direct his strides toward the strange scent's origin, confidently seeking whoever it was that had made themself so cozy.

As he drew close, the scent of decay also grew stronger, causing the boy to wrinkle his snout in disgust. He approached this other man in time to witness him dipping a cream-lined maw into the putrid meat and the pale princeling nearly gagged. How desperate must the wretched foreigner be to attempt such a thing? Perhaps it was his privileged upbringing, but Sven could not fathom a situation so pitiful as to call for drastic measures like that which he was witnessing.

"Hey!" he barked out, glad to see that the stranger had withdrawn from the rotted meal and hoping to further pull him away from the carcass before his stomach completed its sumersault. "You got a reason for loitering?"

(This post was last modified: Oct 26, 2015, 02:24 AM by Sven.)

There are several fresh rabbit tracks in the mud. Hunt Opportunity

Peirus' head swivelled around, his attention snapping from the rotted deer to the snowy newcomer who had called to him. A boy, nothing more; Peirus could have marked the signs of fading puppyhood in his build from a far greater distance than that which separated them now. The whelp's disgust with the situation he had stumbled upon was even more obvious to the Asurn, and the humor of that leant itself to the unbothered smile Peirus levelled at this... charming young lad.

“Loitering?” he asked, stepping away from the deer and closer to the boy - he would hate to see the poor dear vomit, after all, and so graciously used his own body to block the other's sight and scent of the carcass. “I was not aware these particular lands were held by any pack. I am aware of the nearby presence of one - yours, I would assume,” he added for the benefit of the child before him, “But I have not violated the borders. I can hardly dent your supply of prey, either--” and here, for a moment, he allowed his smile to become patronizing, “--as I am only one wolf, and neither foolish nor desperate enough by far to seek out larger prey than I know I can handle for myself.”

A wet ripping noise drew the Asurn's attention to the carcass again, and he turned his head disinterestedly to glance back in time to watch a rat tear its way out of what remained of the deer's chest with its teeth. How curious; Peirus wondered vaguely how he had managed not to notice the rat before, then dismissed the thought as unimportant. The doe was ripe with the stench of decay, and surely one little rat was not large enough to move the remains enough to have garnered his attention until its emergence through the barricade of the deer's breast.

Well, if the boy thought he was disgusting for nosing at a carcass... Peirus stuffed the thought away for now as he returned his burning gaze to the boy before him and dipped his head, feigning a polite show of respect as he said, “Allow me to introduce myslef. My name is Peirus Asurn. I do apologize if I have disturbed anyone,” he continued smoothly, raising his head again. “I did not realize the pack controlled more lands than what are contained within their own borders.”

Word Count: 406

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Hello, little one. Would you like to play a game with me?

SVEN ARCHER

& the night is closing in

He stood still with wrinkled maw, unnerved not by Peirus' relaxed gaze nor his reptilian smile. Should have been, given what he was up against, a mere child with nothing but lengthy bones on his side while the man before him held years of experience, muscle and a hidden lack of regard for morality. What he wasn't, however, was an Archer, and in Sven's young mind this made all the difference. Thus, as the boy's choice in accusation was questioned, the ghostling merely lifted his chin, the sneer disappearing in favor of a disapproving glower.

A volley of words was leveled his way, perhaps meant to make the boy feel foolish for his urgency, yet they could not sway the pale child. The pride of his lineage erected a barricade between himself and Peirus' attempted reasoning, causing the elder's speech to slide ineffectively to the floor. Even the rat was ignored, the sounds it made gruesome to be heard but unable to make the boy flinch. He had seen that glimmer in this foreigner's eyes, how mirthful he had found Sven's disgust, and would not feed that monster any further. As for that final statement, the boy could not know if it was meant as mocking toward the Ridge or not, but his hubris dictated that he take it as such, and so Sven's own voice finally rose forth, solid and level with its conviction.

"Willow Ridge controls everything, and you'll do well to remember that," he informed this Peirus. Asurn was processed, but quickly disregarded. He had not ever heard of such a surname, and surely if it hadn't been important enough to be mentioned by his father @Skoll, then it meant nothing at all. While his aunt @Morganna now held the crown through unexpected circumstance, he found himself mildly wondering if the queen his father had always talked so highly of, his grandmother @Elettra, would approve of what was being passed from the youth's mouth or not.

"We're known throughout this land as a dominate force. You're either one of us, or you're not. There isn't room for scavengers,"the boy tossed his muzzle toward the carcass, the proof of what Peirus was, "here, so pack up and move on."

The polite smile on Peirus' face did not waver as the boy raised his head in defiance of the Asurn's words. They controlled everything, did they? Such arrogance; someone should really have taken better care to teach the boy the reality of the world he had been born into. Instead, it seemed that responsibility had come to rest upon Peirus' noble shoulders. It would be tedious, but this child really did need a lesson in manners - he was far too sure of himself to survive for long against any friendlier wolf than Peirus.

“I see no one else defending this forest,” the Asurn rumbled, taking a more pointed step towards the white-furred lad. “The only wolves here are myself... and a boy who fancies himself a defender of a kingdom that does not extend this far.” The smile melted away, morphed into a hideous grimace that was not quite a snarl and yet far too animalistic now to qualify as a simple grin.

“If you would like me to leave, boy,” he said, his voice a low growl that only deepened even further as he continued, “then I suggest you leave me looking far worse than I leave you.”

The Asurn lunged forward, jaws snapping as he hurtled towards the little upstart mongrel. If this child did not react swiftly enough, he would find Peirus' fangs tearing through the skin across his muzzle; the Asurn was not bred to fight gently, and this boy would know no kinder treatment than any other mongrel.

Word Count: 257

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Hello, little one. Would you like to play a game with me?

Sven is calling out for back up in this post to allow for realistic response time, however the thread is not yet open to others.
A tag will be sent out again when we are ready for @Morganna !

SVEN ARCHER

& the night is closing in

The man's next choice of words pointed out just how alone Sven was as he took a step forward, but the princeling did not budge. Instinctively his posture became more and more defensive as Peirus' continued speech made it clear what was coming, but the littlest Archer would not back down. On a certain level he was aware that he had, at this point, bitten off more than he could chew, but he was old enough to stand by the words he had chosen to level at the older man and would not be found to be a fickle coward. By the time Peirus had made his move, Sven had tucked his chin to protect his throat, his hackles were bristled and his tail curved up high over his back as his lips pulled back in a vicious flash of white fangs.

It flashed briefly through his mind that he had absolutely no experience with defending himself much less dominating another, having not even be supplied siblings with which to tussle excepting the once with his age-mate aunt @Ravenna. The only references from which to go off of were his distancing memories of play with @Piety, who always let him so easily win, and wrestling with his father @Skoll which had been much more realistic but still far too amiable to help him now. Thus, he allowed his thoughts to drift away, purely reactive in all of his movements.

As Peirus lunged forward, Sven melted to the side, slipping through the narrow sliver of time gifted to him. As he moved, his lungs bellowed out a semblance of a howl, strangled by the bend of his throat and his action, and tapered by pain as Peirus' fangs cut throw his shoulder. A snarl tore up through his throat as anger urged him to turn his head and snap back at the man as he glided past him. Unfortunately, his teeth met nothing, but the boy was able to put some distance between himself and his opponent.

(This post was last modified: Oct 27, 2015, 05:10 PM by Sven.)

The boy was smart enough to dodge out of the way - pity that he did not have the speed to entirely evade Peirus' attack, though he did appear to have had enough training to turn the contact into a chance to strike back before his opponent could slip away. Pity, again, that he wasted his chance calling for aid, and that his speed was not quite up to snuff. Peirus leapt out of reach with a mocking laugh.

"Crying out for mother already, are we?" the Asurn barked. "Turn and face me, whelp. Your pack mates will not come in time to save you if you waste all your energy bellowing for them!" He shook his head and circled slowly around the boy, working to make of himself a barricade between the little mutt and the direction from which he had come. If he could manage to, Peirus would prefer to herd the child farther away from the Willow pack, and in so doing increase the distance between them and any who had heard the runt's howl.

With a snarl, Peirus lunged towards the boy again, jaws snapping and foam flying from his maw. Unseen in his moment of tunnel vision, the rat chose that exact moment to charge between the wolves, squealing with the same blind terror that drove it towards what had most likely startled it. Peirus' foot came down on the creature, and it retaliated by sinking its teeth into his foot until he felt them meet with the bones of his toe. With a snarl, Peirus stumbled to one side and kicked the little vermin away, splattering his own blood across the ground as he did so. Of all the times--!

Word Count: 285

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(This post was last modified: Oct 28, 2015, 04:10 AM by Peirus.)

Hello, little one. Would you like to play a game with me?

Sven is channeling his inner Ellie.

SVEN ARCHER

& the night is closing in

Crying out for mother? The words were like hammer blows to Sven's psyche, a vicious reminder from unknowing lips that the boy stood there alone, defending his home without the protection of his own mother because... because... A snarl ripped through his throat, assaulting the air between them as his lips pulled back to fully display the teeth with which he was determined to end this man's life. He could not complete the thought within his head, so painful was his dissonance. Because she had chosen not to be in his life anymore whispered the truth, but his mind wailed what it so desperately wanted to believe, that She didn't have a choice! They've kidnapped her! They've brainwashed her!

His heart and mind both ached, searing hotter and deeper than the cut upon his shoulder. Peirus would pay for reminding him of his woes, for daring to utter mention of his mother, and Sven would die trying to bring his punishment to fruition.

"That's right," he hissed, "I'm crying out for my pack mates to come and tear you to fucking pieces!"

It was at this crescendoing of his voice that the rat attempted to escape the boxing ring, and instead ended up both injured and an aid to Sven. Seeing that his opponent was briefly distracted, the boy launched forward, eager to take advantage of the grace given to him. His jaws aimed to snap, tear, shred whatever came between them. God is on my side, he dared to think, reaching back toward his mother's religious teachings. God wanted him to protect the Ridge and all it stood for and destroy this sinner, just as he wanted him to bring @Piety back to the light, and Sven would not let the all-knowing deity down.

Peirus might have taken his attention away from the boy for a moment, but he was not unprepared for the child to take advantage of his momentary distraction. The boy's shouting gave his rage away, and Peirus was already well prepared to leap to the side as the whelp charged him, teeth flashing viciously. It was a rather precious attempt, Peirus though, and certainly a promising sign that the lad was not a complete waste of flesh. With some proper training, he could grow to become a halfway-decent warrior.

Of course, that was provided that Peirus allowed him to survive this encounter.

As the boy went sweeping harmlessly past the Asurn, Peirus snapped around and flung himself towards the white-furred boy, jaws opened wide to rip into his little "opponent" as he sought to drag the child completely off his feet and end the battle. This little scuffle had been rather charming, but he was quite ready for it to be over - and what a better farewell gift for his unwitting hosts than to leave behind the remains of one of their young as a token by which to remember the Asurn? There was no home for him among these mongrels; he might as well make sure they did not forget his displeasure with them.

Word Count: 215

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Hello, little one. Would you like to play a game with me?