Larkcall Lowlands Wounded Pride and an Empty Stomach

3/8! Hope the PP is okay (just assuming that Askan keeps following him, basically)

An ear flicked back as he heard the telltale sound of Askan trotting in behind him. Craw didn't acknowledge it openly, for his playing with the pitiable loner was growing tiresome. Now he had meat on his mind, which was a far more meaningful pursuit, and slowly the gears in his skull were switching over to the new mindset. Askan became less of a toy and more of a potentially useful tool.

At least if they failed, it was of no serious consequence to Craw, though he could not say how long it would be before the darker man came upon another opportunity this good. Not that he cared.

Onward they moved, steadily and quietly, noticed by the main herd but occasionally missed by those caribou who were stood apart, which was hopeful. Not that his eyes lingered for long on any fully-grown animal whether they looked in the direction of the wolves or not, because they were not his target, which Askan correctly surmised. "Yes," he said, the teasing gone from his tone by now. "Ideally, as young as possible." He had already glimpsed a few caribou babes, anywhere from a week or so old to perhaps several hours, but they were all too alert and surrounded by protective adults to seriously consider. Only two wolves left their viable options very thin, but Craw was patient, and he assumed that he'd captured Askan's attention with the temptation of a meal. He trusted that his reluctant companion would be able to be just as patient under the circumstances.

They paced through the grass, ever searching, coming to the crest of a very gentle swell in the earth, what could barely be called a hill. Nevertheless, once they reached the top and the ground began to leisurely roll back down, it gave them an improved vantage point - and, hesitating, Craw peered out over the tundra, having spotted something promising.

"There, do you see it?" he wheezed, tossing his nose slightly in that direction, where, perhaps three or four hundred yards away, a caribou was laid in the grass, separate from the others. From this distance it was hard to be sure, but it looked like its sides were heaving, and her head kept rising and falling from, what Craw assumed, was the natural distress of labour.

"Sometimes children come at the most inopportune moments," he lamented, a thin, satisfied smile snaking its way onto his face. Flicking his attention to Askan, he snorted in dark amusement, for it was a sentiment he was actually very familiar with. Fortunately for his case, Morganna had been surrounded by allies at the moment the contractions had started. This mother-never-to-be had not been so wise or fortunate.

Without further hesitation he pressed on, turning away from the herd (which they would no doubt be pleased about, the ignorant fools) and towards his chosen target. His movements were smoother now, a subtle shift from his brazen walk during the search to the stalking approach he took now that the next step was reached. He didn't want the birthing cow to spot them too quickly and bugle for backup. It didn't even matter too much if she did eventually see them and call for her allies if it was too late to save anything.

Once within fifty yards of the cow, who was so absorbed in her state that she was as yet oblivious to the danger, Craw hunkered down so that the pair of them could make sure they were on the same page before committing. Fur bristling from excitement, he would glance at Askan, voice low. "The newborn will be enough, she's not worth the risk. She'll be on her feet quickly when we appear. All we have to do is be quick and mortally wound her child, and even if she chases us away, she will be forced to abandon it when it dies. Can you be patient?"

(OOC it's fine!)

The younger an animal was, the easier it was to bring down it. That was one of the first lessons his Father had taught him when he began to bring him and his sisters along on a hunt. At first Askan had been a little confused, after all wouldn't it make more sense to hunt the larger animals? They had more meat on their bones, they'd be able to feed the whole pack for days. A little calf though? It was nothing more than a starter for a pack. It took time, but Askan realised the wisdom behind his Father's words. The larger an animal was, the more dangerous it was. Most prey animals didn't go down without a fight, they lashed out with their powerful hind legs, which could easily crack a wolfs jaw if it landed a hit.  So caution was necessary and sometimes it was better to aim lower, think smaller.

And what could smaller, weaker than a newborn calf? 

"I see it." Askan murmured, as he stared down at the struggling cow. His eyes were narrowed, focused, and he had long abandoned clinging onto his honour and pride. After all, it would do him no good during a hunt. He was a wolf, a famished wolf and he had his eyes on a glorious prize.

Askan had no experience with pups or offspring, so he couldn't comment on that. It sounded as though Craw had though, but now was not the time nor place to start discussing such personal things. And even if it was, Askan probably wouldn't want to ask, and Craw likely wouldn't divulge such information. 

Craw was on the move again, Askan followed suit. He was neither a quick nor graceful wolf, but he could tread quietly if he put his mind to it. So he did. He stalked along, keeping his head bowed slightly and his steps slow and calculated. They were inching closer to the toiling cow and as before she was so overcome with her struggles and pains that she didn't notice their approach. Before they got any closer, Craw came to a stop, signifying that he wanted to speak to Askan before they committed to this.  Askan couldn't stand Craw as a wolf, but as a hunting ally he knew that he could do a lot worse. He was strong, clever and best yet he was experienced. Oh yes, Askan could do a whole lot worse.

For once, Askan agreed with his appraisal. The mother would certainly object to their presence, but as long as they landed a good hit on the calf it wouldn't matter. Then all they'd need to do is keep their distance till the calf died. Then he could feast.

"I can."

Even though patience wasn't his forte, he meant it. Rushing in headstrong hadn't gotten him anywhere these past weeks, so it only made sense to revert to a different tactic. It would be difficult for him to reign it in, but he knew that he could as long as the pay-off was worth it.

And then Askan said something that took him by surprise. "I will follow your lead Craw."

(This post was last modified: May 20, 2016, 04:05 PM by Askan.)

Feel free to control the caribou in your posts :) 5/8

Askan's curt affirmative was met with a nod. Words were all well and good, so they would see just how well the man could control himself. Turning his attention back on the caribou, trying to determine how far along in her labour she was, the next soft-spoken sentence took him by surprise.

His eyes met Askan's with brows raised, but then his ears pulled back and satisfaction writ itself on his face. Well now. Even when they disliked him, they were willing to follow. His father would be so proud, the traitorous bastard.

Not wasting time on frivolous acknowledgement of the sentiment, for he had understood well and clear, his nose pointed once more in the cow's direction, feeling rather more confident about proceedings. "Get around to her rear, but stay hidden until you see the calf breach. It'll be a lot harder to rip it out of her belly if we interrupt her. Once you see it, get her attention. She'll turn around to confront you, and I'll be waiting on the other side to help pull her baby out." A few well-placed wounds would be all it took, and then they could retreat and wait for her to accept her loss. He had chosen their roles for a few reasons, though none of which he spoke aloud, allowing Askan to accept or deduce them himself. As the weaker party, his speed would be reduced, and Craw knew he would need to get in and get out fast once she was distracted with Askan, who, he assumed, would appear less of an obvious threat than Craw would. Smaller, obviously hungry, his main danger would be in his desperation - but to a prey animal like that, the appearance of one gaunt wolf would hopefully trigger the assumption that he was alone. And one caribou mother versus one starving wolf was barely a match at all. Her sensible but incorrect snap judgements would be what they needed to take advantage of, for once she realised the bigger threat, it would not be long before she called for help.

Craw would wait for his hunting partner to acknowledge or question the plan before making any move, for it was important they were on the same page if this was going to go smoothly. Besides, it may be a short while before the calf made any appearance, for from this angle Craw could not see if her birthing sack had appeared yet. The timing would be at Askan's discretion.

(This post was last modified: May 20, 2016, 07:51 PM by Craw.)

(OOC will do.)

Askan remained quiet, attentive, as Craw explained his brief- if not cunning- plan. Unlike his Father, Askan had never been much of a strategist, he was more of a lunge now ask questions later sort of wolf. That hadn't really been a problem when he had lived with his family, but the past few weeks proved that it was no longer the case. He needed to change, he needed to adapt to the rules of living as a lone wolf. And if it meant doing as he was told and learning from the best? Well... He wouldn't like it one bit, but if it increased his chances of survival than so be it.

 "All right." Askan replied, making it clear that he had no issue with the plan.

It was a good plan. He wasn't in the best of shapes and he knew it. Whilst he wouldn't say that he was on his last legs, he wasn't in any state to try and wrestle with a struggling, newborn calf  And with a sorely needed meal on the line it made sense to allow the fitter, stronger wolf do all of the hard lifting. He was certain that he could get the cow's attention and hold it long enough for Craw to seize the chance to yank out her calf. Whilst he was no real threat to her, she wouldn't remove her eyes from him, especially if he acted as though he was a desperate, deranged wolf who was willing to take his chances with a heavily pregnant cow. Askan was certain that he could play his part well, he was determined to and so nothing would be able to stop him.

"I'll get into position." With that, Askan slunk off to do as he was bid.

It wasn't difficult to get into a good position for observation, as the cow was so distracted. The rest of her herd on the other hand were a little more observant and aware of their surroundings. By no means did Askan get close enough for them to notice him, but their sharp sense of self preservation told them that something was out there. They didn't know what, or if it was even a threat to them, but they could sense something was out there, watching them with a predatory intensity. Askan settled down into the grass to wait.  From his position he could no longer see Craw, but that was irrelevant, the plan in was place and they both knew what to do. They were both waiting until it was their time to shine.

The cow, still ignorant of his presence, continued to struggle and strain. Askan had never witnessed a caribou -or any other animal for that matter- giving birth before, but from what he could tell she was having a hard time of it. The process was exhausting for her, her breathes were long and laboured and her legs trembled with the effort of calving. Askan inhaled deeply. He could smell the calf, birthing was not only a noisy process but it was smelly too.  She had to be close now. The passing of time was agonisingly slow and it took a lot of self restraint to stop himself from dashing out early. But he managed, he waited and-

There was the cue Askan had been waiting for! Askan could see hooves protruding out of her rear, and the smell that came with it was so intense that it made him lick his lips in anticipation. As he was told to, Askan got to his feet, approached and made himself known. She could no doubt smell his unwelcome presence, but for extra measure Askan let out a low, deep growl. Despite the fact that she was half-way through giving birth, she whipped about and confronted Askan with an angry stomp and a huff. As Craw had anticipated, she was aware of his state of being. He was no real threat to him, and so she didn't sound the alarm or call for help. She was a fair distance away from the other caribou, so for all they knew she was still having trouble giving birth.

There was no way that Askan was going to try and get closer to her, he didn't want to risk getting hurt, but his pretence had to be convincing. She had to believe that the non-threat to her and her calf's life was directly in front of her and not behind. So he snarled again, puffed up his fur and mock lunged at her. Now, Askan had her full and undivided attention, her calf was momentarily forgotten and Craw was free to move in for the kill.

7/8! Also as a warning to any readers... this is an unpleasant post.

With only words of agreement, Askan crept away. Craw watched him go for a few seconds, as the dark wolf circled around to the rear of the cow so as to get the best view of where the calf would appear. The pale wolf glanced to the herd, then, the mass of ungulate bodies which hovered several hundred yards away, too far to be of immediate concern. How had she gotten herself so isolated? Unfortunate timing on her calf's part indeed, or maybe she just liked her privacy. Whatever the reason, it was going to cost her dearly.

Content that Askan seemed to know what he was doing, Craw pushed off in the opposite direction, aligning himself with the caribou's head as it rose and fell with her agitation. Closer now, he could see how her ears flapped and eyes opened wide in discomfort, her nostrils flared from effort, the soft sound of her grunting and breathing just barely touching his ears. Having moved slowly and carefully, he managed to position himself unnoticed. From this angle, he could see her and the herd far beyond, but had no visual on Askan - which was fine. The whole point was for the cow to see him first, which would be Craw's cue. All he had to do was wait, and hope that Askan had good timing.

Long moments passed, during which Craw focused only on the labouring cow and her allies in the distance, waiting for the sign. His patience was immense, for he both desired a successful outcome to this and to see just how well (or badly) Askan could perform. At every opportunity, he had crept forward a few inches, so that the distance he needed to cover would be as little as possible. Idly he considered which part of the newborn he would carry back to Morganna, wondering if she would prefer the head and shoulders over a meatier thigh, and just as he was pondering how best to carve up the calf he saw the cow freeze.

She'd seen something. His shoulders wiggling back and forth as he warmed up, prepared to strike, he watched as the labouring caribou heaved herself to suddenly-confident legs, twisting about to face a threat from the opposite direction. From this side, Craw could clearly see the protrusion of hooves from within the hanging white amniotic sac, and was privately pleased that Askan had done as he was told. The cow stomped and huffed, not yet drawing the attention of anyone else, and Craw inched forward, muscles tense, for he could see the hint of a dark nose at her entrance and the more she was moving the more it was being pushed out -

As the calf's muzzle slipped out of its mother, the birthing disrupted but not halted by her standing, Craw sprang forward.

The distance was covered in very little time, and he held his breath as he bolted towards her, for she would likely hear the movement behind her but didn't want his breathing to unnecessarily give him away too - and just as her ears were flicking back, her head turning to see what was going on, Craw's jaws clamped down on those slimy infant wrists, and with a grunt he tugged backwards.

The sounds made by the calf being yanked out of its mother were grotesque on multiple fronts; the wet pop, the horrid shriek of the cow at both the pain and realisation of what was happening, the soggy thud as it hit the ground and the sac burst, the strangled, weak, barely audible bleats of the bewildered and distressed calf itself.

The cow twisted about, a madness in her eyes, but the hurt and the danger and the disorientation made her hesitate for just a split second too long. Having yanked the calf a few feet away from its mother as it landed, Craw stepped on its face and, in one swift motion, sank his teeth into the soft wet flesh where jaw met throat, crushing it. With a terrible wail, the caribou charged him, and Craw abandoned the newborn willingly. The caribou drove him back, screaming her hatred, then circled back around to make sure that Askan wasn't taking advantage of her distraction. She lingered over and near to her sputtering and coughing newborn, sizing off against the wolves, not yet able to pay attention to her child - or perhaps she hadn't realised that it was slowly dying underneath her protective watch.

The herd had noticed. Calling to Askan with a gruff bark, Craw retreated further, putting space between himself and the mass of caribou, but always keeping the cow in sight. He would grin toothily at Askan as the man came closer, no words needed; it had been efficiently done on both parts. The wetness on his face, both from the birthing fluids and the calf's blood, said it all.

(This post was last modified: May 21, 2016, 10:59 AM by Craw.)

Askan knew the exact moment that Craw latched onto the calf. It wasn't simply down to the fact that the mother whirled around, or at least tried to, so that she could face her second attacker. It was more so that Askan could smell it, and worse yet he could hear it. Askan was by no means squeamish, blood and mess was a part of life, but even he had to admit that it was a little... He wasn't sure and he didn't focus on it for long. The cow was on the defensive, she knew that she was under attack and was reacting accordingly. Before, she had simply been warning him but now she was on the war path.

In her pain and the confusion that came with it, she didn't seem to know who to focus on. She couldn't watch both wolves at once, but she was certainly trying to. She whirled on both on them, shrieking and lashing out with both her front legs and horns.With all of the chaos and commotion, the other caribou had noticed what was going on. They didn't flee or try and retreat, they simply stood their ground and watched on with nostrils flaring. They could smell it too, the blood and the distress of both the calf and its mother. By no means did they rush to the cow's assistance, but their bellowing calls and stomping feet made it clear that the wolves were not welcome around here.

 Askan wisely backed off. He wasn't stand there and subject himself to her rage. He had done his part and by the looks and smell of it, so had Craw. All they had to do was wait, then they could feast. At Craw's call, Askan trotted towards the other wolf. Just the prospect of eating was enough to put the spring back into his step. It was so close he could almost taste the calf's rich flesh.  Once he was close enough, Askan slowed to a stop. Craw certainly looked as though he had gotten right in there. His face was a bloodied mess but it was nothing a wash couldn't take care of and better yet none of the blood was his own. They had both escaped unscathed. 

Briefly, Askan looked to the mother again. Now that the wolves were at an acceptable distance, she turned her attention to her wounded calf. She tenderly nudged it with her nose, as if telling it to get up. But even from where he stood, some distance way, Askan could see that the calf would never be getting to it's feet. Craw's attack had been savage, so much so that even an adult would have been severely wounded by such a bite. Askan was grateful that those powerful jaws had not been put to use against his flesh.

"And now we wait." Askan said, with a smug air about him. He deserved it after all, he had performed brilliantly.

I doubt that Askan would want to chat while they wait, but I'm leaving the option up to you rather than assume <3

The musk of birth and blood was thick in his nose, the evidence of their deed coating the fur on his muzzle. He licked at it idly as they came to stop a short distance from the crime scene, taking note of the slight bounce in Askan's step. Craw felt somewhat less threatened by the man's presence now that the very real promise of food was on the horizon, for the dangerous desperation should be staved off in the knowledge that he would survive at least another few days. And he had Craw to thank for it, whether or not he outwardly acknowledged it, and that was enough for the spider-faced wolf. He did so love being able to have the fate of another in his control, if it was so short-term in this instance.

Sitting comfortably in the long grass, Craw's yellow gaze turned back onto the cow, watching as she licked and nudged her newborn, making soft, pleading sounds for it to get up. The calf's sides were heaving with mighty attempts to breath properly, hampered both by the natural shock of being outside the womb and magnified a hundredfold by its ruined windpipe. It would either suffocate or choke on its own blood, whichever came first, but for the moment it fought gallantly. Doomed. Eager to taste it, Craw's tongue swept over his nose and muzzle and at the corners of his mouth, not to clean himself but because it helped to momentarily satisfy his need. His pale fur would be bloodied afresh soon enough.

He did not speak, for he was done with the toying of Askan and had little interest in initiating simple chatter for the sake of it. If prompted, though, perhaps he would indulge in conversation. Until then, he would wait for the caribou to realise her loss, and then they would have to see whether she abandoned the corpse or would need to be chased off it. If the latter, he hoped that her spirit would be broken enough to trivialise her protestations.

( OOC You've got that right. :D)

Despite the fact that they had spent very little time together, Craw knew Aksan very well. Askan was very much an open book, what you saw is what you got. He often pretended as though that was not the case, but most wolves were observant enough to realise that it was just a pretence. Much to his annoyance. However, in this case and moment, Askan was glad that Craw knew him well enough not to try and make idle conversation. He would have responded in his own, curt way but he would have hated every moment. Silence was better if the conversation consisted of pointless small talk. He would much rather have a moment to shift through his thoughts as he waited for the cow to accept her losses and move on. 

Askan had been hesitant at first, understandably so, but now all was said and done he couldn't help but feel as though he had made the right decision. If Craw had simply wanted to take advantage of him, before stealing the kill for himself he would have surely already done so. If he was going to attack him then now would be right opportune time to do so. But the larger wolf was still, he sat comfortably nearby. Not too close to be in Askan's personal space, but enough that if they had wanted to have a conversation they could have. Instead, the two wolves were content with more or less ignoring each other and waiting for the minutes to tick by.

Askan had been in the process of getting comfortable- he had decided that sitting on his hind-legs was not comfortable- when he caught movement in the corner of his eye. He looked up to see the cow on the move, she was walking slowly, dejectedly, and her head hung low. Askan didn't need to think about it long to realise what had happened. She had given up on her calf and come to the conclusion that despite all of those weeks of pregnancy, it was now a lost cause. The calf was dead, or at least it was close to death, he couldn't tell from here. Askan got to his feet and peered over the grass. The cow was making her way back to the main body of the horde, and  he assumed that the frumpled shape in the grass was the abandoned calf.

Getting to his feet, Askan slowly wandered over to the poor creature. He didn't want to catch the mother's attention again, lest she decide that her calf was worth defending again. Once he was close enough it was clear to see that the calf was moments from death, it was struggling to breathe and its eyelids fluttered open and closed as it squinted against the light of the sun.  Askan turned to see Craw approach, with his usual self-assured gait Was there to be a pecking order here?  Craw had claimed that they were equals but.... Askan's stomach rumbled again in protest, his instincts roared at him to stop loitering and tuck in, but his sense of reason told him otherwise.

Askan took a step back and averted his gaze, he looked to the distant mountains rather than the larger, elder wolf. How many more blows could his pride take before it shattered into a thousand tiny pieces? He loathed himself for it, but after everything that Craw had done he deserved to be shown at little shred of reverence. Even if doing so made Askan want to gag. 

He was letting Craw have the first bite, to finish off the dying animal, and he hated himself for doing so. 

(This post was last modified: May 21, 2016, 09:15 PM by Askan.)

Thanks for the thread! Feel free to archive it once you're done, though Craw will stop if Askan speaks to him <3

They sat in comfortable silence, for the first time able to coexist quietly and peacefully - if largely because Craw had grown tired of being antagonistic. There was no point in continuing to poke and prod at Askan when the man had done such a good job of correcting his behaviour. Craw was a reasonable wolf, who rewarded respect with respect. He didn't give a shit what Askan thought of him so long as he acted appropriately.

The caribou took her time in accepting her futile situation, but eventually did begin to trudge back to the herd, leaving a barely-living calf laid in the grass. Askan was the first to his feet and moving towards its body, which Craw did not contest, for the moment. Slowly he lumbered over to the newborn, wondering if the mother had abandoned it in this state in the hope that the wolves would mercy-kill her struggling child rather than watch it suffer a prolonged death. Askan's yellow eyes turned back on him, and met Craw's own, and then something primal and immediate happened; the smaller man stepped away.

A thick, delicious honey oozed through Craw's chest, that ever-satisfying warmth of authority and power which just served to reaffirm everything he believed about himself. Even the aggressive, starving wolves made room for him. A pleased rumble in his chest, he moved forward to stand over the calf, from who emanated only the barest signs of life. Gently he placed his paw back on the newborn's wet muzzle just to keep it still - not that its struggles were anything worth worrying about - and then finished off the work he had started. Taking the neck in his jaws, he crushed it. The calf barely protested as its spinal column was destroyed, and moments later its weak attempts at breathing stopped.

It had been an uncommonly merciful thing to do, but it had been neat, and perhaps just the tiniest part of him felt pity for the newborn considering that he was caring for puppies himself. With the calf dead, he tore into its belly, reaching for his favourite part, the liver. Fortunately for Askan, Craw was not nearly so hungry, and he had only feasted for a few minutes when he directed his attention to the calf's rump. Chewing at the flesh and sinew which connected one of the infant's thighs to its body, he soon separated the leg from the corpse, ripping the bone from its socket with a few hefty tugs.

Getting a firm grasp on the warm, still-damp young leg, he finally stepped back, leaving the corpse free to Askan. The amount of meat left on the calf was more than generous for one wolf and would certainly see him survive for a few more days.

The body was in the loner's possession now. Not bothering to hang around while the man ate, for his business here was done and Askan would likely be able to feast more comfortably without being watched, Craw dipped his head in acknowledgement of their successful time together and then turned away, back the way he had come, eyes searching for that telltale landmark on the horizon.

(This post was last modified: May 26, 2016, 07:34 AM by Craw.)

(OOC, thanks for the awesome thread! It was a lot of fun. And pardon the late response, uni was killing me. I'll go and archive this now. :D )

Askan loathed himself, completely and utterly. He was a sham, a wretch and a wreck. But what was he to do? He had grown up in a pack and so deference was ingrained him. He couldn't help it, it was a reflex of sorts. And even though Askan loathed Craw, he still felt like a leader. He carried himself like one, he had a similar commanding air about him. Once again, Askan was reminded of his Father, a wolf that he was trying desperately to forget. The more he clung onto the memory of him, the more it felt as though Askan was going to be crushed by it. He wanted to let it go, to pretend as though he didn't exist, but he truly did miss his family. Weakness. That's what that was. He knew that if he kept this up he wouldn't last long on his own. He had to shrug off those burdens and this hunt with Craw proved that he could.

Askan turned his attention to the larger wolf, and kept a respectful (if not cautious) distance as the wolf tucked in. He didn't eat as much, or at least not nearly as much as Askan planned on eating. He did however, tear off a large portion to take away. Now that was a little curious, was he saving that for later? Or did he have other wolves to feed? He didn't seem like the nurturing sort, in fact he was the furthest thing from it. Then again, Askan didn't know him and he doubted that he ever would. This wolf was a stranger, and enigma and he wanted it to stay that way. He had no intentions or desire to cosy up with him, he wasn't going to follow after him like a small, defenceless pup. This was where their alliance ended, their agreement had been met and it was final. Good riddance.

Craw wordlessly left the scene, with leg in mouth. It was a sizeable portion, but there was more than enough lefty to fill Askan's empty stomach. And so, as soon as Craw was out of sight, Askan began to gorge himself until the aching pains of his stomach faded into oblivion.

His hunger was finally sated and it seemed as though things were finally looking up for the lone wolf.