Larkcall Lowlands What's in your head?

A hot, prickling sensation ran from the base of his skull down his spine. The darkness may have neutered their ability to watch the reactions on each other's faces, but Craw could feel Askan's smugness as though it were a vibration in the air, from the soft sound of his hum to the leering tone in his voice. Craw's throat tightened at the mention of Lorcan's name, ears slowly tilting back until they pinned against the back of his head, lips curling again - but this time to bare teeth.

If their game had been to find who could break the other's composure first, then Askan won. The man's jeering final question was met with a low, gravelly growl, born straight from the spider's chest, air rushing through clenched smallteeth. Askan wanted to get into this, wanted the gloves to come off, then fine.

"Throw your limp-tongued mockery at me all you like," he hissed, "but don't think that gives you permission to insult my pack mates." If it hadn't already been obvious, the tone of their conversation had changed considerably. "They are each, without exception, ten times the wolf of you, who sits there and thinks he can look down on Lorcan - the wolf who tried to help you after you were stupid enough to provoke a fully-grown grizzly in the middle of his bulking season. You, who fled the moment you could and left him behind, because you're just a snivelling, selfish, ungrateful little shit who is worth less than Lorcan's piss, so don't you dare act as though you're superior to him. Lorcan isn't afraid of me - he's afraid of failing me, because he's loyal and puts the pack before himself, because he's honest enough to know when he's made a mistake, because he strives to make up for it. You, though, you don't care about anyone other than yourself, and I should have left you to starve."

F-bombs galore ahead

Limp-tongued? Askan scoffed. Craw certainly had a colourful way of hurling insults. It was as though regular ones just wouldn't do, he always had to put himself up on a pedestal. He always had to leer down at him, his mouth spouting bullshit filth. He was right though- to a point. Insulting Craw outright would no doubt be a pointless endeavour. It'd be as effective effective as trying to clear up of all of the snow by eating it. Absolutely fucking pointless. So yes, Askan had gone for a low blow and he wasn't ashamed of it. The bastard deserved it, coming here in the dead of night, giving him all that lip- he'd practically been asking (askan) for trouble.

But now it seemed as though the tables had turned. Craw's posture stiffened and even though Askan didn't- nor would he allow himself to but he felt tempted to shrink back a little at his domineering stance. His words had hit the mark, dead on centre. Craw was spitting pissed. 

Each grating word was like the blow of a hammer. Insult after insult. Stupid. Snivelling. Selfish. Ungrateful little shit. Worth less than piss. This was nothing new, nothing he hadn't heard before, nothing that he hadn't told himself. It wasn't that he cared what Craw thought of him, because he didn't.  Truly. But hearing someone else say it aloud like that, so vehemently - and not just in the heat of the moment- well it cemented it. If someone else could see, then it had to be true.

He should have just died.

A snarl rippled in his throat and passed through gnashed teeth. 

Times had changed. He'd changed, even if only a little. He was doing better, he was working towards a cause, something he was passionate about. The pack meant everything to him now and it felt good- no it felt amazing- to know he'd helped put it together. That his contribution made a difference, that his absence would be noted and he'd be missed. All that bullshit that Craw had spat at him, it had been true once. Maybe some of it was still true, but he'd sooner die than admit that. He was better now.

"You don't know shit about me!" Askan snapped, responding with equal- if not more so- venom. "And you don't know shit about this pack or what we stand for! So why don't you fuck off and come back at a reasonable time after you've pulled your colossal head outta your ass!"

He knew that Drestig would want him to cool it and be polite, but this was the best he could manage. He was this close to lunging at that fucker, this fucking close. It took everything he had not to. His whole body was shuddering from the need to do something, to right his asshat's way of thinking. His fucking presumptuous ass. Askan's sides heaved and he clenched his eyes closed in an attempt to gather some restraint. He pulled in a long shuddering breath and puffed it out through his nostrils. 

"So what's it gonna be?" He asked, his voice suspiciously low and monotone. 

(This post was last modified: Nov 21, 2016, 04:42 PM by Askan.)

sorry not sorry

At least they both lost the game, one after another. The anger in Craw's gullet melted into a seething kind of vindication as Askan spat back, for it meant that the dynamic had shifted back into spider-controlled territory - with Askan on the defensive. A low, derisive note in Craw's throat was all his response to the idea that he didn't know anything about the pitiable man; he'd just proven he had evidence to back up his scorn, and it was all Askan could do to childishly snap shaddup and fail to meaningfully disprove anything.

And then Askan did the adorable thing of try to dismiss Craw, and by that point he was all toothy sneer, ears back and fur bristling, V8 purring nicely. Nobody dismissed Craw - he even sent his superiors on their way. "What you stand for," he crooned mockingly, composure returned, his loss of temper and explosion a worthy sacrifice when it had spawned similar in the wolf before him. He didn't miss how Askan actually invited him back, as though there were still a chance of diplomacy. Perhaps Askan just had more faith in this boss of his than he did in himself, which would have been the first sensible thought so far. Even the brat knew he was intolerable.

Nevertheless, he ignored the pointed question, for that would have led to giving some measure of control back to the wolf, and Craw wouldn't have that. "I know you're led by an old man," he hissed, rump raising slowly from the ground, "and judging by the stench of your territory, an old bitch, too." A step forward. "I know your borders smell like they're patrolled by at most four adults, and that you have a child among you. I know you chose to settle not only obnoxiously close to my land, but to the Notch pack to the south, as well." Another step, tail twitching up and high from instinct, the engine revving and running too hot to stop.

"So why don't you run along to your boss, Askan. By my charity you are alive today - don't make me take it back."

all hail the king

Askan felt no surprise at Craw's dismissive words. Of course he wasn't going to understand, let alone even try to. But it was his tone- not the words themselves- that truly made Askan's blood boil. So they were back to this again, this near constant assault of pecking words and derisive sneers. He sort of deserved it though, not because he thought the spidery bastard was right, but simply because even he could see how he had backed himself into a corner here. No matter, two could play the ignoring game. It was the only thing keeping him sane at that point. Scorn was better than fury. 

At Craw's next words, Askan rolled his eyes. Was he supposed to be impressed? Anyone with a nose could figure that out, and whilst they weren't advertising themselves openly the pack wasn't exactly hiding in the shadows either. Not to mention that visit the other night, that had no doubt been an attempt to gather some information, so they could scurry back to the big bastard here and let him know that his claim on the Lowlands was under threat. Except it wasn't. The Lowlands were massive, so why the fuck did Craw think he owned it all? He probably didn't like to share. Everything had to be mine mine mine. How childish. And they called Askan petty.

Still, hearing Craw speak of his alphas like that.... Such blatant disrespect, it was intolerable, the Yukon wolf couldn't stomach it. How very dare he? This was a struggle. He'd always known he had a short temper, that it took very little to annoy him and that he- more often than not- would snap at the slightest provocation. But this... If he could have, he'd be impressed at the level of restraint he was showing. He couldn't of course, he could think of little else. His mind was a maelstrom of scathing thoughts that mostly consisted of fuck you fuck you fuck you.

The only thing keeping him check- the only thing- was the welfare of the pack. At that point, things were less than amiable between the Northerners. Things hadn't gotten aggressive yet- and neither did Askan want them to but.... With their shortage of numbers, he did not feel secure enough to push things any further. He'd have to go and do it again wouldn't he? He'd have to swallow his fucking pride, he'd have to- not admit defeat per se (because that wasn't happening, not now and not ever)- at the very least play along. For now. 

"Sure." Askan responded. Not letting his stiff- Askan-esque posture falter for one second. "I'll let him know you swung by in the morning. See you around."  

Despite his words, he made no move to leave. He was home after all- more or less anyway. Besides, he wasn't doing jack shit till he knew for certain that Craw was gone. The last thing he wanted was for him to be slinking about with the others asleep. Besides, how the hell had they not woken up? Did they have rocks in their ears? Ah well, for then he just took in another steadying breath, in and out. In and out. In and out.

Either the man was dense, or had balls so big that they defied common sense. Or perhaps he thought he'd fallen asleep safely inside his territory, and believed he had authority here, the right to expect Craw to scurry away. No, that couldn't be it; Askan was many things, and a fool certainly one of them, but his reaction would have been a lot more defensive from the start if he'd thought that Craw was trespassing. Which meant that he knew they were in neutral territory.

The spider took another step forwards. "I think you misunderstand me." Another, with movements slow, careful, like a cougar preparing to strike, like revving hard at the red lights and just waiting for that green light. "We're outside your territory - neither of us have jurisdiction here. I'm more than happy to fall back onto more... fundamental natural laws." Your choice.

Survival of the fittest, the eternal war of the dominant, the harsh realities of a harsh world where the only way to thrive was to fight for it. The reason why the stoat runs from the fox who runs from the coyote who runs from the wolf who runs from me.

Askan glanced about, as though he had forgotten. Which really, he had. To say Craw had caught him at a bad time- well that was an entirely accurate statement. He must have wandered further than he had thought, funny how his legs seemed to work fine when tired but his head? Not so much. The Yukon wolf did his best to brush that matter aside, despite the fact that he couldn't really. Considering how blatantly correct Craw was. And how stupidly wrong Askan was. Yet again.

It felt as though the rug had been swept out from under him. God's he was tired. Slowly, unwillingly, Askan averted his gaze. He was as headstrong as they came, as stubborn as a mule, but he could cut his losses when the time came. He'd happily kill Craw, he wanted nothing more than that but- as much as it hurt to admit it. It was time to back off- like a fucking pussy. 

Askan tsked and got to his feet. It took everything he had to stop himself from shaking- not from fear of course- but he managed. Mostly. 

"I read you loud and clear. Like I said, I'll talk to the boss. I'm leaving now, so good night, and all that." He grumbled, his voice clipped as though getting them out took some effort.

Askan made a show of stretching and rolled his shoulders before he turned and headed back from whence he came. But instead of going back to the sleeping area, he veered left into the woods. It was only when he was out of sight and hearing range did he break out into a sprint, his tail tucked firmly between his legs.

Finally it sunk in. The forward steps stopped, which was lucky because they really wasn't many more he could have taken before starting to get into seriously personal-boundary-testing business. The amber light flickered on underneath the red, but there it held - and as the concession came, the acknowledgement of inferiority, of weakness, so the green light would remain off. Craw placed his raised paw back onto the ground, and the over-hot engine tried to cool itself.

The words were calm, unpanicked, ordinary, but Craw read them well enough. You didn't just have an encounter like that - come within a spiderthread's width away from bloodshed - and fail to recognise it. Askan knew exactly what he was doing, trying to safe face with his words as he failed to with his actions. Pussy. It was the sensible decision, but as the man retreated, Craw couldn't help but lament his blue balls.

Stepping forward to stand where the other had slept, Craw lifted his leg and relieved himself. "Enjoy it while it lasts," he wheezed, and turned back onto the path which would take him to his citadel in the north.