Luna Hill death approaches

OOC:
10pm
Overcast Clouds
35.6 ° F, 2 ° C

when I'm bad I'm better

Ahhhh. Cold. Very cold. A lot colder than the small boy would’ve liked, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t get to control the weather, no matter how hard he had tried. He prayed for a longer fall, for some time to figure things out, but no luck. Frost was beginning to form on the plant-life. Occasionally it would snow, very lightly, but snow nevertheless. It made the wolf scared. He hadn’t joined a pack yet, and had little desire to- but with winter swiftly approaching he wasn’t so confident in his surviving abilities. He had just started to gain weight back after the coyotes. It wasn’t enough to rely on, no extra chub for warmth or energy. He chewed nervously on his bottom lip and looked around the forest. Now what?

There was only so much he could do. He could ask Garmir for help, join the draw and pledge his loyalty, but the idea made him feel sick. He wasn’t ready to make that commitment. He barely could digest his loyalty to Garmir. Joining a pack, dealing with the responsibility of subordination felt like defeat. What was there left to do? He could return back to his aunt, stay with her for the winter. That made him feel sick and sad. He tore his gaze away from the skyline, his eyes glossy with tears. Why couldn’t things be easy? What was wrong with him? It shouldn’t have been this hard, joining a pack. It was natural. It was in a wolf’s DNA to want to be around others, but something about it felt off to the boy. It felt like betrayal and failure. He didn’t want to make that step.




That left two other options: recruit a pack or struggle alone. Both left a very sore, unsatisfying taste in his mouth. He wasn’t ready to lead. He could barely keep himself alive, let alone others. He wasn’t his brother. He wasn’t strong and domineering, he never knew what to say or do for the wellbeing of others. He knew how to keep himself alive, but every day that became harder. Angrily, he threw his muzzle up into the air and howled. It wasn’t a call or signal, it was just a solid emotion-filled cry. He didn’t expect it to be answered, but it felt refreshing to hear his voice ring out in the night sky.

(This post was last modified: Oct 14, 2018, 02:08 AM by Vaken.)

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

As thickly laced as this land was with wolves, Wesley had yet to have any exceptional encounters. All in all, things were proving rather boring, and he was coming to the conclusion that the time of watching from a distance was swiftly coming to a close. He needed something more involved, some sort of action and chaos. In the morning, he had decided, he would start this new mission of having a bit of fun. In the mean he meant to rest, his belly full and his eyes tired from the satisfaction the meal had brought. He'd just about reached sleep, curled beneath brambles, when the peace of the night broke.

Frustration and need soared overhead in the form of a song, strong and near. Immediately his ears pricked to drink it in, head and interest both lifted. Sleep was forgotten, for this was turmoil and he always had a place in such. Waiting until the tune died, he thought a moment before tilting his own muzzle. His call twisted through the branches and took wing with playful tones of intrigue, starkly contrasting the other's melody. Fishing, teasing even.

(This post was last modified: Oct 14, 2018, 04:10 PM by Wesley.)

when I'm bad I'm better

A reply? The boy’s ears tilted forward, leaning into the noise with curiosity. He had not expected a reply. It had caught him off guard, but comforted him. A reminder that he was not alone in the forest. It hung in the breeze like an unspoken question, tempting the yearling to follow it. He sat still, the autumn wind dancing through his fur before raising to his feet. It was a chilly night, surely company would help soften his mood- help distract him. He was hesitant though. Even though it was close, within running distance, the boy was introverted in nature. It was dark, late, cold. It would be safer where he was. He could curl up and get some rest, shake off the melancholic mood he was in. He pandered the idea for a moment, then lifted his muzzle into the air and gave three questioning barks.

His voice was higher pitched, sharp against the night air. His call was an obvious one: stay where you are. I am coming. If the wolf replied in distain, the boy wouldn’t bother to investigate. He had no interest pressuring anyone to small talk. He felt a pull towards the individual, an invisible rope tugging, but only if the stranger reciprocated. They shared the loneliness of the night, nothing else. Without that connection, the yearling felt no other drive to follow them. He moved towards the voice, but slowly, buying himself time.

(This post was last modified: Oct 14, 2018, 07:10 AM by Vaken.)

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

Nothing immediately came of his howling, and Wesley's ears pressed hard against the air with impatience. Then it came, more noise with a message that pleased him; the other was approaching. To wait for it, however, was out of the question. Wesley always had his own agenda to impress upon others, even if it was something as simple as a game to play. He rolled onto his back and writhed against the dirt, embedding his scent before sending out a welcoming call, something like a yawning yowl. Then he was up on his paws, and darting away.

The half-eaten groundhog carcass was left behind, just one more thing to entice the other wolf to investigate where his age-mate had been resting. Wesley, however, was twisting circles and sliding through brambles, leaving a chaotic trail which the other would, hopefully, strive to follow. Dashing over a thick rivulet of melting snow, he bounded atop a nearby boulder and settled lowly, chin touching the cold of the stone while the shadows of the surrounding trees helped disguise his mottled coat. Hopefully his company wouldn't spend too much time looking up, but if provocation or a hint were needed, Wesley wouldn't hesitate to issue a quick whuff.

when I'm bad I'm better

Normally a game of hide-and-seek was up the boy’s alley. He was ambitious, competitive and pretty clever. He enjoyed the challenge. Tonight though- the yearling was too emotionally drained to spark up the enthusiasm needed. He moved towards the noise with heavy paws, dragging them along the cold floor and dead leaves. He sniffed the air, catching smells of wolf and food. That definitely sparked his interest, so he continued to move, quicker now. The idea of a late night snack was hard to ignore.




It didn’t take long for him to appear in the clearing where the groundhog carcass rested. It had recently been eaten, been there were no other indicators of company. He narrowed his eyes, skeptically, before slowly making his way towards the snack. It was in arguably from the same wolf. The howls had come from this direction, but where was he now? The boy looked around nervously, waiting to be attacked. This seemed like a set up, some sort of cruel trap. He could smell subtle scent of lone wolf in the breeze, but he wasn’t going to leave the dinner behind.

Against his better judgment, he dove in. He began to eat the remainder of the kill with vicious intensity. He wasn’t starving, but he was hungry. He wanted to be quick just in case. He tore off a limb and swallowed the meat nearly hole before licking his lips. Where was the other wolf?

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

Relying on luck for his pale eyes to not catch and reflect moonlight, Wesley kept them wide and open, drinking in every detail of the other wolf that he could at the decent distance between them. The dark colored him more chocolate than anything, but it was clear the other boy was of a similar variegation as Wes's own unique coat. Like they'd been two canvasses cut from the same cloth, but he'd been colored with hues of stone and sky while this one had been painted with tones of the earth. His bright eyes carried a heavy quality typical of a rogue, which Wesley assumed he was.

Clearly, he was more interested in surviving than playing, but at least he'd given his unseen company an inch. Even Wesley supposed he should be happy with what he could get, especially considering the prolonged drought of interesting things he'd been facing.

Changing gears, he slithered like a snake off the night-chilled stone, and finally spoke.

"Well well, aren't you in my debt."

A warren of rabbits is hidden under a nearby tree. +3 Health

OOC: possible hunting dem 1/3

when I'm bad I'm better

The boy had been alert, on edge and waiting. He noticed the other male right away, with his bright blue eyes and silver fur. The other wolf had appeared from nowhere, off the cliff like a ghost. He was larger than Vaken, but wasn’t everyone? He did not look familiar, or smell familiar, but there was an air of familiarity that Vaken couldn’t place. He watched from the corner of his eyes as the man made his way forward, swallowing his final bite of food and scoffing. “I owe you nothing,” he purred, pushing the corpse away with disregard. He slid across the ground beside him, quickly forgotten.




He was not in the business of IOUs. He was not a respectable wolf, or a boy of gratitude. The meal had been in the open, an invite. He felt entitled- first come first serve. He had told the man to stay where he was. If he had chosen to abandon his dinner, that was on him. Raising his black nose to the air, he sniffed around, trying to identity the wolf further. Clearly a loner, male, the yearling couldn’t exactly place the scents on his fur. He could smell the rabbits in the distance though, hiding timidly beneath the tree, close together for warmth. Tempting.

It wouldn’t take the two of them to hunt. The yearling wasn’t necessarily hungry anymore either, but with the creatures so close he couldn’t turn it down. He lowered himself to the ground, keeping himself quiet and offered a curious mmrrph to get the man’s attention. “Are you still hungry?”

(This post was last modified: Oct 14, 2018, 07:22 PM by Vaken.)

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

The other boy immediately denied that the abandoned meal had been any kind of favor, and Wesley didn't mind that it wasn't so easy to guilt the other party or pull him in to some kind of congeniality. That it might be a challenge to get something he wanted from the other would just make it all the more fun so long as the dirt-mottled wolf didn't prove too frustrating. Playfully, Wesley pouted at the words, all the while closing the distance between them in a pointed fashion.

Something else stole the other youth's attention before he could speak again or even get close, and for a moment that pout became genuine before he cleared his expression entirely. His eyes followed the stranger's gaze, nose twitching. Hungry, he asked.

"Oh I'm all full up, I'm sure you are too. Since you didn't need half of my dinner and all," Wes was quick to turn the other down with a teasing lilt to his voice, stepping between the other and his potential prey.

OOC: Vaken is being a butt and tried to grab Wesley's muzzle. Feel free to have the attack miss or hit or bite him back
possible scuffle 1/3

when I'm bad I'm better

Annoying. Incredibly, overwhelming annoying. Frustration washed over the young boy’s body as his companion stepped in his way, blocking his hunt. He couldn’t see the rabbits with the man in the way. All he could see was the underbelly of the stranger. While it wasn’t a direct challenge, Vaken interpreted it as one. The black and grey wolf was making things harder than they needed to be, for what reason? All because Vaken had eaten his leftovers- leftovers the stranger had left behind, uncached, all out in the open. It was disrespectful. His banter had been annoying before, but this was a cherry on top. He raised his lip in a curt snarl.

This wasn’t how he expected his night going. Had he known the stranger howling back to him was this infuriating, he wouldn’t have bothered following it. It was too late now. Vaken couldn’t take it back, he was here already. He raised his body off the ground, forgetting his hunting stance and raising his hackles. His motions were quick, instant in response to the man’s. He reached out with his maw to try and grasp the man’s muzzle, trying to assert dominance and to get him to shut up. He wasn’t incredibly aggressive, his gestures were warning and assertive. If his snap landed, it wouldn’t draw blood- just put enough pressure to be taken serious.




It was an attempt to say get out of my way and show some respect with his body. A casual enough gesture, but loaded with emotion. The yearling knew he wasn’t large enough to shove him out of the way, so this was the next best thing.

(This post was last modified: Oct 18, 2018, 01:10 AM by Vaken.)

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