Cedarwood Forest caught in the spider's web

The forest had been drowned beneath a sea of snow and ice.

Maven had been patrolling the parameters of a well-trodden deer path for over three hours before she finally returned to her dwindling cache which she had nestled beneath the rotting foliage of a thorn covered bush.

The old doe carcass she had snatched from some other predator’s hollow had helped keep her hunger at bay, until now. Pale golden eyes studied the last few scraps of flesh and leathery skin which still clung like a thick spider’s web across its skeletal ribs. She brushed her salmon pink tongue over it gently, imagining that it did not taste as dry and rotten at it did. She grimaced.

The dark wolf would have been inclined to spend the remainder of the late afternoon picking at those leathery scraps of flesh, had she not spotted the small cluster mountain laurel peeking through a pocket of sun-drenched snow. She had snapped off a few leaves from the evergreen clump and carried them with her back to her cache. Chewing the leaves carefully in her mouth, Maven spat the poultice out, and scraped the remanence from her tongue. It tasted disgusting, but, pressed into the rotting flesh of the doe carcass, was somewhat disguised by its pungent odour.

The final step to her plan was to drag the piece of doe carcass to somewhere more obvious, somewhere an unsuspecting passer-by might spot it. Close to the deer trail seemed a good choice. With her trap now set, the dark wolf slunk back into thicker snow-covered brush, like a spider waiting in its hole, she watched in silence ready to pounce.

This was the kind of place she had decided she wanted, when her time came. Which was far, far off. Yet it felt like it could be tomorrow if she really wanted it to be.

It wasn't as if anybody was here. She could piss all over the whole place, take it for herself and reap all the benefits of the land. Maybe Uncle Rochus would want to come with. Maybe she could convince the baby Asmund to come too. It seemed like fun to keep him in line. Perhaps he'd even grown when he went beyond the shadows of the Backwater. Or maybe not. He could be too pitiful to save.

Whatever, she figured. It could all be figured out when the time came. For now, she had scored a jackpot in the form of dinner.

Sure, it smelled a little pungent, likely at the end of its life for safe consumption. However she would not be the wolf to give up a free meal in the winter time. Even if she did have a pack to go back home and feast with.

One, two, bites. She had realized something about the meat seemed to stick to her teeth. Unaware that it was a poultice that had been pressed in. For how could she know? She was a fighter, not a medic or herbalist. So another bite for good measure...

When Maven had heard the crunch of snow advancing up the trail, she had held her breath. The lone wolf dared not move for fear of revealing her position to the approaching wildlife. Pale golden eyes, cold and calculating, peered out from her shadowy lair in the thicket to spy on the creature as it sauntered confidently up to the carcass — a creature, which she suddenly came to realise, was another in fact another wolf.

Maven's heart froze for a second, as a pang of guilt held a tight stranglehold on her conscience. But then her stomach groaned quietly again and she flicked her ears back dismissively, quickly swallowing down the feeling of guilt and refocusing on her own hungry desires.

The girl had it coming. She told herself as she watched, mouth beginning to salivate in anticipation, as the dark coloured wolf — barely a yearling — ingested the last mouthfuls of her meal. Stupid girl. If the young wolf was lucky, the meal wouldn't be her last. If she wasn't, well, an eye for an eye—a meal for a meal—, or so the saying went...

Maven wouldn't reveal herself, not yet. Instead she remained hunched down and kept a close eye on her victim, not wanting the yearling to slip out of immediate sight as she studied her carefully for any signs that the poultice was beginning to take effect.

(This post was last modified: Jan 08, 2023, 07:00 PM by Maven.)

Maybe the meat had already been bad. Her stomach seemingly clenched, a soft wiggle in her abdomen to onlookers. She could not tell if it was going to come back up or not. Yet in anticipation, she stumbled off a few steps from the few bites of meat left. Prepared to not empty the contents of her stomach all over it.

Uhhhhg...

Unaware that she had company. If she had known, maybe she wouldn't allow herself to grovel upon the ground. Slowly she sank down to her stomach so she could lay still, paws reached up to cover her eyes. Between the wooshing in her head and the sudden aches of her stomach, she was prepared for a world of hurt.

If only she had known this was the start of it.

When her victim stepped back from the carcass, Maven's ears pricked up. Pale gaze narrowed on the girl as she groaned in discomfort and sunk down into the thick snow. She could not tell how much of the poultice the girl had consumed, and would not be able to know until she approached to get a closer look at what remained. This also meant that she did not yet know if the amount the yearling had managed to consume could prove fatal. Maven's skin shivered in excitement as she willed herself to hold back a moment longer, licking her lips in quiet anticipation before she finally slipped out from her shadowy lair, and stood behind the girl.

She feigned concern, her dark brows pinching together as she stepped forward to agonise over the unfortunate situation the poor girl had found herself in.

Oh dear, what's wrong? Eyes too big for your stomach? She asked in mock-concern as she circled around menacingly to approach the girl head-on, golden eyes glancing across to what remained of the deer carcass before her gaze returned to her young victim laying in the snow.

(This post was last modified: Jan 08, 2023, 07:27 PM by Maven.)

The voice sounded distant at first. Like a phantom sound, wind in the trees. One paw pulled down her muzzle so a pale eye could peer out into the woods.

Except the voice had not belonged to a ghost or the wind. It was indeed another wolf here. Who would be witness to the way she was currently wracked with a sudden illness. Go...'way... She grumbled, hackles flared up even though she could do nothing. It bothered her. The inability to pick herself up and attack the stranger who dared to impose on this private moment.

She tried to. Tried to bare her teeth, but it was sluggish. Not to mention the amount of drool that pooled in her mouth was borderline rabid in its looks.

Oh. She wanted to throw up. Mmm... A sound that was quickly followed by a burp.

Maven didn't budge, even as the girl demanded her to leave and sluggishly bared her teeth, she was powerless to enforce her wishes.

Maven laughed, a cruel patronising sound erupting from her chest for a brief moment as studied the yearling in front of her. Aside from the white frothy drool now pooling from her mouth, the girl seemed healthy, well-fed. Maven assumed she was likely a pack wolf. Winter was a hard time for all, however those who were fortunate enough to have a pack to support them were typically spared the worst of its seasonal torment.

As the girl groaned again and let out a burp, Maven considered her options, as the yearling lay in the snow on the verge of throwing up. She could leave her here to either recover on her own and wander back to her pack, or she could leave her here to die a long and agonising death to be later picked at by scavengers, and then, maybe Maven could return and pick at her remains herself.

The dark wolf huffed in contemplation, sending hot tendrils of breath into the icy air. Both options involved a prolonged period of waiting, and Maven had grown far too hungry and far too impatient to play the long game.

There had to be another option, had to be another way that she could exploit the situation and twist it to her advantage...

I can help you. She suggested suddenly, her head tilting to one side in question as she locked her narrowed eyes with her victim. I can take you back to your pack, to your healers. She continued coolly. Though you would owe me something in return... A dark brow lifted as she side-eyed the yearling.

(This post was last modified: Jan 08, 2023, 08:02 PM by Maven.)

gross warning for vomiting lmao

Isla was offended at being offered help. Rochus teaching her things had been one thing, but this? Help and a debt too? The thick drool in Isla's mouth pooled out for a moment. Ice blue eyes squinted as she tried to steady her sight on the figure.

I-ahhhh... Her sides clenched as her stomach practically convulsed within her. Dun...owe....any'on'.... A hiccup burp punctuated her own sentence when she had not finished it yet. Shiiiit. Hissed between drool covered teeth as the world began to spin a bit faster around her.

She could not help what came next.

The contents of her gut spilled forth suddenly, a splattering sound against the soft snow. Meat and plants mingled in an acidic pile. However she most certainly was not free from all of the effects that plagued her.

Maven laughed again at the girl's curt dismissal of her help. Nostril's flaring at the putrid scent which now hung in the air, Maven scowled and turned her back to the girl who was now hunched over a hot steaming puddle of her own vomit. She glanced back menacingly over her shoulder before offering the girl one last chance.

Alright, fine. I'll leave you alone. She said bluntly, clicking her sharp teeth together. But don't be surprised when the big old cougar comes back for his meal you just ate. I'm sure he'll be forgiving.

Maven grinned, a dark toothy grin, as she looked down at the girl, her tail flicking in a serpent-like manner behind her as she waited to see what the girl would decide. With any luck the girl would believe her threat and accept her deal after all.

(This post was last modified: Jan 08, 2023, 08:31 PM by Maven.)

Huh? She hadn't thought she had smelled feline, but the pungent meat scent had covered up most everything...

It should have been a concern, prompted her into moving and hightailing it back to the Backwater she called home. Except she couldn't. Her legs wobbled every time she tried to push herself up to stand. Which was an endeavor she promptly gave up on, lest she slip or fall into her own vomit.

A bleary glare was given towards the slinking figure.

Wh-whu...want? She croaked out as she stayed hunkered low down. Gaze squinted as she did her best to stay focused on the shadowed figure. What kind of deal did she hope to gain from a literal child? Maybe, somehow, she was a mind reader, thought Isla. Wouldn't it be nice to have a number to wield under herself and not her dad?

She snored, a sound that was brought on from the choking amount of saliva in her throat, but that Isla had meant as a laugh.