The Wildwood [BWP] a quick escape

@Iskandr

I feel numb, born with a weak heart

Things had been going okay for Vaken. Being around the pack border was mentally exhausting. Despite the security, Vaken wasn’t truly pack and that made it difficult. He was safe from coyotes, but only to a fault. It was a temporary solution. He had too many mental barriers to request to join. He wasn’t quite ready for that level of responsibility, it frankly scared him. 


He knew it wasn’t permanent. He was only going to stay as long as it took for his wounds to heal, but still, loitering outside Charred Ash Draw territory was uneventful. Sure, he had met a few wolves, but it was always tense. They were there on border patrol. They weren’t there to make friends.

He craved the freedom that came along with travelling. That’s why he was in the wildwood, positioned between two trees. He sat in peaceful silence, checking his healing scars. The coyotes hadn’t hurt him too bad. He was relatively in healthy condition, thanks to @Sahalie and @Kino. The pair had helped him a lot, and he wanted to repay them. He wasn’t quite sure how. Scrunching his nose, he continued to think. He could bring them flowers?

Ridiculous. Shaking his head, the small wolf was embarrassed for even considering it. He wasn’t the flowers type. Dropping his head, Vaken sniffed the air timidly, checking for coyotes. It seemed safe so far.

I guess I must be having fun

(This post was last modified: Jul 16, 2018, 09:46 PM by Vaken.)

currently travelling with Circe (she can jump in any of his threads)

A sniff of the air told Ferreiran everything he needed to know. It was that wolf again. The blond and black one. The only wolf he had really ended up liking. Yup, it was Vaken. The dark wolf gave an internal hoot of laughter at the thought of coyotes chasing them away for the third time in a row, though he supposed it wasn't all that funny.

But there was another scent, strong and fierce. The scent of pack boundaries. Vaken had said that he didn't want to join a pack and had even praised him for not doing it either the last time they'd met. Had he changed his mind? No, Ferreiran argued with himself, he wouldn't join a pack. "Hello," he said hesitantly.

Have you read my player preferences?

You encounter three coyotes marking a nearby tree.

It had been so long since he'd ran into another wolf without trying to avoid them. Iskandr had traveled carefully since being forced to leave his home, skirting widely around anything that resembled a pack or well-traveled area and trying his damnedest not to attract notice. Weeks of ducking his brethren as well as coyotes, of getting his meals however and whenever he could, and who knew how many miles covered by his now well-calloused paws. Now, at last, with the distance and those beastly mountains between them, he was fairly certain he'd traveled far enough that no one could possibly know him or recognize him and the stigma he carried with him. At last, he could let his guard down and relax a little... he hoped. Upon noticing the scent of others during his travels today, their own strongly present scents mingled with the telltale hints of still others, he had decided at last not to retreat, but to approach them and introduce himself, to test his luck.

He was almost close enough to warrant a greeting now, moving between the trees, hoping to catch sight of them. His tail stuck out behind his barrel-like body at a slightly raised angle and his ears tipped forward, eyes scanning. There. Just between those trees. He swallowed, suddenly conscious of his voice after weeks of disuse, and let out a ringing bark as he trotted toward them. He stopped a short distance off, letting his tail sway, neither too high nor too low. Outwardly, he seemed outgoing and full of confidence, a jovial stranger happy to chance upon these others. He just hoped they wouldn't decide to try run him off, or worse. "Hey there, you two! Mind if I borrow a moment of your time?" he asked, smirking. Then another scent hit his nostrils, and he had to supress a snarl, scanning the trees quickly again. Damn, and just when I thought today might be a good one. "Ah, shit. Coyotes. Who invited them?" Were they trailing him, just to make a move now?

(This post was last modified: Jul 18, 2018, 05:27 AM by Iskandr. Edit Reason: end of the post got chopped off >.<; )

I feel numb, born with a weak heart

“They don’t need an invite around here,” Vaken mumbled, his body turning a bit rigid. He lowered his head and stretched it out towards the uninvited guests, letting out a deep growl. There were three of them, and three of the strangers now. It seemed like pretty fair odds, but Vaken couldn’t guarantee that either of the loners would choose to fight. He wasn’t about to barge into a battle if he didn’t have backup.

He looked at the newest member, the wolf with lighter fur and green eyes, and lifted his tail. He stopped growling when he looked at the stranger, clearly not trying to target any aggression at him and nodded. “It’s a bit dangerous here lately,” he continued, returning his eyes to the vermin. “They don’t take no for an answer.”

Stepping towards them, Vaken snapped his jaws and tried to intimidate them, hoping to keep them back. He hated the damn coyotes. He looked at Ferreiran unsurely, almost inquiring with his eyes if the male was willing to fight. If he had both wolves on his side, he was confident in their ability to scare off the coyotes. If not, they better start running.

I guess I must be having fun

(This post was last modified: Jul 24, 2018, 08:11 PM by Vaken.)

currently travelling with Circe (she can jump in any of his threads)

Ferreiran continued his trademark silence, trusting Vaken to speak for him. The coyotes were that mix of genuinely alarming and overwhelmingly irritating that they always were. He hated them like he hated possibly nothing else. He may just be naive, since he hadn't really faced too much hardship in his life, but the coyote hate was easy to understand. He saw his kinda friend go tense, and growl at the coyotes, obviously figuring out in his head that if the other wolves fought with him they'd win. Honestly, the dark wolf was sick of running from the coyote packs. He wanted to fight. Ferreiran nodded, hoping that no words were necessary to convey his meaning, before fixing the other wolf with his yellow gaze. If one of them didn't fight, it would all be lost.

Have you read my player preferences?

"Alright then," Iskandr smiled grimly, exchanging a look with the wolf who'd spoken, then the other, silent one. There was no time for introductions, they'd just have to skip them for now. For him, there was really no question in standing together with these strangers in this moment. They faced a common enemy, and he was itching to show these pests their place in the food chain.

He took a step toward the coyotes, and then another, lowering his head and letting out a deep, guttural growl before launching into a slow but deliberate lope towards the coyotes. His tail was high and stiff, and his fur stood on end. Perhaps they could simply intimidate the coyotes into retreating without a fight, but they were so brazen that he wasn't sure if that would be possible. Isk was confident - perhaps overconfident - that he could handle himself in a fight, but these other two wolves were total unknown factors. He just had to hope they could handle themselves well enough if they needed to fight together.

I feel numb, born with a weak heart

It felt good to have wolves on his side. Letting out one final warning bark, Vaken took the first thrust forward. He trusted Ferreiran. This other wolf- not so much, but it didn’t matter. As long as he could hold his own. Vaken wanted to fight.

He closed the space between him and the three coyotes. Using his sharp fangs, he grabbed the first creature by the side and tossed him. Vaken wasn’t incredibly strong, but he was quick. The coyote had not expected the sudden attack and was knocked off balance a few feet, losing his footing and slamming into the ground. The small victory made Vaken howl in delight and step back.

He knew Ferreiran wasn’t very big either, but he knew the wolf was clever. He had experience the black wolf’s skills first-hand. The stranger was more of a wildcard to Vaken. He was large, sure. Not the biggest wolf he had bumped into along his travels, but strong nevertheless. Strength only meant so much to the yearling though. What matter was if the wolf was smart.

He bared his fangs and lashed out at second coyote. He lowered his chin to cover his neck and danced to the side, avoiding an attack. Out of the corner of his eye, the young wolf checked on his buddy and the stranger.

I guess I must be having fun

currently travelling with Circe (she can jump in any of his threads)

Ferreiran dashed into action, instinctively fighting with his friend. He ran behind the coyote, teeth lashing out at the creature's flesh. He locked his jaws around one tawny leg, gripping it tightly despite the salty blood flowing from it quickly filling his mouth. He simply swallowed and held on, hoping the rapid loss of blood meant it was going to die soon. By keeping one leg above the ground, the coyote's movement was limited drastically. Even more helpful, Ferreiran knew that there was a major artery in the legs. He couldn't remember exactly where, but judging from the amount of blood flowing out of the wound, he had probably hit it.

His head jerked up as the coyote stopped struggling and he was left with a limp leg in his mouth. He looked down at the coyote, lying on the ground. If looks could be trusted, this canine was most definitely dead as a doornail. One dark paw reached out to flip the coyote over in one swift motion. No living creature would let him do that.

Have you read my player preferences?

Iskandr didn't slow or pause, instead charging ahead at the mongrel on the far right - the largest one. It just made sense to pick the one closest to himself in relative size. The creature lowered its head and snarled, but then it hesitated, taking a step back and glancing to the side in fearful realization. Iskandr didn't bother to look, he lunged for it. He hadn't really expected an opening like this, but he would gladly take the shot. His jaws closed on the scruff of the coyote's mangy neck as it tried to turn and flee, and he raised his paws and planted them on its back, pinning it. He could taste blood. The thing yelped, crying out in pain, and he loosened his grip on it's neck, snarling deeply. Then he shoved roughly with his paws and let go of his hold on it, pushing the coyote away in a splash of dirt. Its legs skidded beneath it as it turned tail and fled into the trees.

He looked over at the others - one of the coyotes had been knocked in the dirt, and the other was slain. He expected the other would run too, if they gave it the chance, but would they? He blinked. Why had he? He hadn't really thought, he'd just done it. It was just a worthless coyote, and certainly if they had caught him alone, they couldn't have been very kind, and yet he'd let it go. He stood there, adrenaline still racing, watching to see what they would do.