The Wildwood dance with a demon

OOC: All welcome!
1am, broken clouds
50 ° F, 10 ° C

you draw blood just to taste it

The boy weaved through the trees in silence. Each step he took was perfectly planned, barely making a sound. He was small enough to drift through the forest like a ghost. His small structure was beneficial for stalking, travelling swiftly behind prey. He was becoming a strong hunter. He did not have the brute force, but he had the strategy, speed and slyness. He was confident in the night. His golden eyes glistened in the darkness, unblinking, focused. He was on the hunt.

He raised his nose into the wind, tasting the scent of fox on the breeze. He had never hunted a predator before. It was not usual for a wolf to hunt another meat-eater, but since the coyotes the yearling’s view had changed. He was curious to test himself. He had been unable to kill a coyote directly in the summer. He had been to weak and starved, but now? He could feel his strength in his body. He was getting more skilled in combat from training, eating better without the vermin, becoming more experienced in the hunt. He wanted to prove to himself he could- not just to eat, but to kill. The orange creature was up ahead, barely out of eye-sight. He had been following it for some time, planning. His chance was approaching, but still he lingered behind, preparing for the exact moment.

you hold bones just to break them

Wyckoff was also on the trail of the fox, for around the same reasons. He wanted to prove himself as more than a good-for-nothing scrap of wolf meat. He was strong, and clever, and quick. He would show the world, he was a force to be reckoned with. A fox wasn't much to eat, but they were evasive, difficult to kill. This would use more than just strength.

Another scent came, one that made him growl in disgust. Another wolf, a loner. He spotted the red and black wolf a few moments later. He was even smaller than Wyckoff, a thing the scarred runt hadn't thought possible. He went into a dominant position, ears and tail up. I want this fox, he thought, growling.

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OOC: reference to @Jenessa and @Wesley for ruining his meals

you draw blood just to taste it

Things could never be easy, could they? First the small black brat pissed on his meal, squatted right over it and let loose before he could eat. Then, the larger black man who scared away his rabbits on purpose. It seemed like the boy could never just enjoy a dinner without having to fight for it, people were always trying to make him starve. It had been fairly tolerable at first, but it was losing its charm quickly. Not today. The yearling wasn’t going to tolerate any more spiteful sabotage. If this man wanted to fight for it, he could. Vaken wasn’t going to back down. His adrenaline was already pumping, his mind set on the kill.  

He just shifted his focus from the fox to the other wolf. He reminded him of Garmir at first, with the green eye and scars. Fairly intimidating, but not nearly enough to make the boy back down. He was already on the hunt. He reflected the other man’s body language, lifting his tail up high and puffing out his chest. He was challenging the other wolf’s dominance, his teeth exposed with harsh snarls. The fox was on the back burner. His attention now was completely consumed with asserting himself over this stranger, making him submit. “Back off,” he hissed.

you hold bones just to break them

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

fight 1/5 | Minor Swearing

The audacity of this wolf! Asking him to back off like he was some kind of alpha, trying to assert some pitiful authority! And when he wasn't much bigger than a coyote! This was unacceptable. No wolf had the power to rule him anymore. And goddammit, he was going to prove it!

Wyckoff snarled, "No!, and charged at the small male, slashing at his muzzle. He wasn't going to hurt the boy too much but a few wounds wouldn't be out of the ordinary for a Scunthorpe conflict. He wasn't going to be taken advantage of, no matter what. Not anymore.

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OOC: Vaken is biting down on Wyckoff's shoulder trying to push him on the ground
fight 2/5

you draw blood just to taste it

The energy escalated with the tawny wolf’s snarl, Vaken’s haunches raising instinctively. He had expected the stranger to submit. When he didn’t, the boy placed his chin down, attempting to protect his throat. Things moved quickly, the atmosphere chaotic and tense. There was little time to prepare. The stranger was in the air before Vaken could blink, his claws scrapping at the yearling’s muzzle. The scruffy youth tried to pull back, but not before the smack landed. The pain of it only made Vaken more mad, his teeth exposed.




He was not one to fight fair. He had no qualms about unfair strategy or sportsmanship. He did not pull back his attacks, his intent was to severely injure or kill. It the wolf would not submit, Vaken would make him. This fox belonged to him. He had spotted it first, he had stalked it, he deserved it. He needed to prove to himself that he could, and this idiot was getting in his way.




Rage surged through him. He turned quickly, trying to protect his face and tore with his teeth forward, grasping for flesh. He held the stranger’s shoulder, tearing his head left and right viciously trying to pull him off balance.

you hold bones just to break them

(This post was last modified: Oct 22, 2018, 02:40 AM by Vaken.)

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

fight 3/5 he's not trying to push Vaken over but feel free to have him fall

The yearling wasn't going to back down it seemed. Wyckoff felt teeth latch into his shoulder. If he wasn't focused on the fight, he might have thought something sarcastic. Like that it was just another scar to add to the pile. He fought against the wolf's teeth trying to drag him to the ground. "Not me, weakling!" he angrily spat at the other wolf. He'd spent most of his life being insulted, and it was natural to lash out with cruel words. "Not me!" This fool would not beat him.

He twisted and broke the grab, before viciously shoving the other wolf's shoulder,partly just from his anger and resentment, and partly to get in a position above the wolf's neck. He planned to grab the nape of his neck in his teeth, pushing down just enough for him to feel it and maybe to get a little threatening in. After all, he had killed before, he could do it now.

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OOC: Vaken stumbled and is now trying to grab hold of Wyckoff's side
fight 4/5

you draw blood just to taste it

Teeth dug into the boy’s flesh, his shoulder aching from the attack. The weight of the other wolf was overwhelming. Vaken was small, in a fight like this he’d lose. He didn’t have the weight to shove back, and he knew it. He wasn’t cut out for wrestling. He’d loose all his advantage off his feet. His only option was to escape. Fear motivated him, his body reacting before he could consider his options. He pulled back, stumbling away from his competitor, desperate to keep his balance.




He wasn’t going to fall- not today. Regaining his composure, the boy hissed another guttural snarl. Insults didn’t bother him, his mind was too consumed in the fight. He spoke with his body. He charged forward, his teeth aimed for the soft flesh of the wolf’s side stomach. He tried to grab hold of the skin and rip, to stun the scarred wolf in pain. All it would take was a moment of distraction, and then Vaken could shred more. Quick blows. That was the yearling’s strategy.

you hold bones just to break them

(This post was last modified: Oct 22, 2018, 08:37 PM by Vaken.)

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

fight 5/5

The other boy was stumbling miserably. Good. Wyckoff nearly managed to crash into him, shoving him off balance but was a little too late. The kid snarled and charged forward. The Scunthorpe felt a pain in the side of his stomach, and whirled around.

Wyckoff deftly avoided another slash, and leapt up to land on the wolf's scrawny back. If the foxes and coyotes could do it to mice in the snow, he could do it to this undersized scrapper. But his claws hit dirt. He looked up at the other wolf, surprised for a moment. Then he said, "Not going to lie kid, that was pretty good. But I ain't gonna stop. I'll track you down and I'll get some payback." He smiled, showing only a few signs of the hasty retreat he'd knew he would have to make to preserve his pride.

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you draw blood just to taste it

“I’ll be ready,” Vaken hissed, his throat still hidden and hackles raised. He wasn’t going to turn his back on the wolf. He had won this fair and square. It was his victory, but he didn’t trust the stranger to accept that. He didn’t even want to blink. “My name’s Vaken Svart- if you ever need to find me.” If the man ever needed to ask around, the yearling would be prepared. His name wasn’t popular, yet. It would be though. He’d carve into every tree if he had to. He wasn’t going to hide from a threat like that, never. Empty or not- he didn’t care.




He waited to see if the stranger would offer his name too, just to make things even. It didn’t matter much to the boy- but it would be beneficial to have. He wanted to know who to watch out for, but didn’t dare ask.

you hold bones just to break them

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

So the stranger's name was Vaken Svart. He filed it away in his brain. He would find this wolf again, and beat him. It didn't matter if it took years. This wasn't just a matter of pride, it was a matter of Wyckoff not being stomped on again. Call it a grudge, but he wanted to get ahead.

The scarred man glanced at Vaken, noticing the suggestion of a question on his features. In a blink, he figured out what he wanted. "Wyckoff," he obliged. "And," he added slyly, as if it was an afterthought. "I can tell you that I'm from a place to the west. It's pretty far from here, but keep moving and you're sure to see it." He wasn't quite sure if west was the direction of Scunthorpe Peak, but if it was, it was a pity that Wyckoff wouldn't see how his old pack would treat this tiny newcomer. "See you soon," he said, a bit ominously, before turning and walking away.

-exit-

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