Whitestone Monadnock [s] life's unfair, not like you care

December 7th, Night, Overcast Clouds, -2.21 ° F, -19 ° C

There was a chill that gripped him as he watched from a distance. Kerberos' being oozed tension and chaotic emotions, he no longer knew what he felt or needed. He had no clue what would become of him this winter. A savage perhaps. Dead seemed more likely. The clench of his stomach reminded him of that as he spotted the other male with the scent of a meal on the slight breeze.

Saliva dripped from his jowls as he weighed his options. If he sprung it would surely take them both too close to the Monadnock's edge. If he growled his cover would be blown too soon. Did he play the defensive hungry loner? Was the pack creature kind enough to fall for such an act?

Fuck he wished Tilly was here. Two against one would have made things easier.

He was a grown man though, he could do this himself. So he played it bold and let his tail take a position over his spine (an act that felt foreign after his fall from leadership) as a low growl shifted through his throat.

His teeth sunk into frozen flesh without too much work. The meat was not juicy or very flavorful but it was not rotten. He could consume his own want and then return with the rest to the Rye. A win-win situation, for once.

The male was interrupted though by the vibration of a growl. He had not known anyone to follow him and so he whipped his head over his shoulder with a sharpened glare. A strange who smelled of no pack and held himself too high for Deacon's liking. He flipped his own tail upward with an unwavering gaze. The man looked uncivilized and disheveled.

Had Deacon been nicer, he might have considered making a donation to the loner's life in the form of a meal. Alas, it was not to be.

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

The stranger took the bait and Kerberos watched as his posture was mimicked. It riled him, energized him and thrilled him. He wanted to face the larger man head on more than he wanted that meal now. He had not been presented with a physical challenge in too long. Mental challenges had been thrown at him left and right. It was time for a change.

His jaws parted to display his ivory teeth, there was little to no moonlight to make them glimmer or glint. This was not some sort of ethereal scene from a movie. This was pure chaos with no plot, no filler. He shed any logical thinking of how he'd stack against a well taken care of creature.

He lunged without much thought. He just wanted flesh.

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Brazen little shithead. He snapped his jaws in warning but there was suddenly the presence of teeth on his hip, hard and forceful. All this for some frozen scraps? This was the last time he gave a fuck about anything. It had never done him good before and it certainly didn't do him any good now.

He kicked his back leg with the thought that it might ward the loner off. He never felt anything land though and the grip on his hip never seemed to lighten up. Blood would no doubt drip from the place of attack but that was a problem for later that future him could figure out how to handle. The swarthy male was a bit stuck for now though and despite his better judgment telling him to just go ahead and give up, he couldn't bring himself to.

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Kerb was undeniably pleased that the male didn't roll over or just submit. Good. He thrashed his head some just to spite the male's useless kicking. He wondered how much damage would be done when he finally released. Whenever that would be. Surely soon before the other could strike him down in proper retaliation. The Rigel had no doubt such a large male wouldn't take a beating with no complaints.

Through a squinted yellow gaze, Kerberos silently dared the man to fight back. He wanted this to be worth all the energy he was wasting. What was the fun if he won without a proper fight?

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