Fireweed Rise early rise

The ploy worked splendidly, Wraith's hunt ruined as he leapt after the retreating Craw. Had food been a higher concern, the childish sabotage would have been detrimental to the dark man's health, but together they had been keeping both Wraith and the Ridge well fed enough to relax a little. But though he deserved the reprimand, small warning bells went off at Wraith's choice of word, Craw coming about to face his attacker with a smirking grimace, a low growl in his chest carrying a subtle but distinct message; careful. Such disrespect was permissible considering that Craw had encouraged it, but no amount of games should let them lose sight of what they were to each other. Such small, nonverbal exchanges were commonplace to the wild beasts, constantly affirming their position with one another, and while Craw treated Wraith very well there was no doubt where he considered them to stand with one another. Wraith's reaction to such subtle powerplays would dictate how closely their relationship continued - Craw had no need of a rival, only of allies.

Then the paw struck him on the face and the silvered wolf recoiled at it, the moment back to pure physical play, and he pushed forward to shunt Wraith's shoulders with his own, gravelly laughter in his throat. The commotion had probably made all the rabbits in that burrow hunker down far from the surface - they'd have to go further afield if Wraith still truly wanted to hunt more. The rabbit he had already caught should sate him, though, and Craw had done enough for the pack the night before to be too desperate to bring back another haul this morning.

His friend's growl earned a lifted brow and one ear flickered back in confusion. Careful of what? Were they playing or not? Did the word hold negative connotation with the Willow Ridge wolf? From Wraith, it was certainly a term of endearment used for his siblings whenever they caught him off guard and far from a challenge to authority of any kind. The brute took silent note to use it more sparingly in the future around his friend then, not wanting to cause a rift where there should be none. The black wolf grinned as his paw struck home on Craw's face and turned in anticipation of a rallying strike back, earning a good shoulder check that put the pale wolf's muzzle in easy reach. Laughing, Wraith nipped at his partner's muzzle before spinning wildly away until Craw had a good view of his wagging tail. The brute turned to look at the pack wolf with a daring smile, just as content to have a scuffle as he was to hunt. Of course, the likelihood of any hunting success now would be at an all time low unless they really worked at it. But Wraith was fine with a day spent enjoying the scents, sights, and sounds this place offered. All work and no play could harbor a great deal of unhappiness, and it had been far too long since the northerner had a chance to truly relax in the company of another.

Burtn @DA & Dawnthieves.de

Am happy to fade? We could do a full, proper hunt if you'd like the LP, but I'm happy to end it soon since this is so old :)

Whether or not Wraith understood why the boundary existed, it was pleasing that he respected it, and the subtle interaction was glossed over without specific attention. It was true that insults designed for children touched a rather sore point somewhere deep and old in Craw, of being belittled and undermined and cut down only to be rebuilt with lies and manipulation. But he hadn't told Wraith any of it, hadn't told any of them, and that one small growl only said don't - and Craw was content that Wraith accepted it.

Perhaps if this relationship truly bore fruit, became something more than just a practical matter, became something that Craw could value as much as the ones he had been forced to leave behind, then he would explain it to the man. To do so now would be to just invite pity or sympathy, and that was no way to build a meaningful bond. He would not accept Wraith's allegiance if it was borne through feeling sorry for him. He would earn any and all goodwill through his actions in the present, and that alone.

But it had been one fleeting instant. Seeing Wraith rise to the bait, the easy rolling growl in his chest through excitement rather than aggression, Craw grinned toothily as he lurched at the man, at his friend, able to put it all behind him, all of it, and in its place just enjoy this moment of easy camaraderie. He would make sure that Wraith found a place at his side in the ridge - and he sorely hoped, so dearly hoped, that the man would be the first to stand by his side in this new southern life, together so far from their homes.

(This post was last modified: Mar 25, 2016, 05:24 PM by Craw.)