Spectral Woods I Guess I Could Start a War, I Guess I Could Sleep on It

Dated to February 21st moments after deconstruction. Set in Spectral Woods towards the base of Serpant's Pass. For @Corsair :D

The mountains were a bust. There were bite marks on his muzzle and some more around his rib cage where his left leg met his body. The adrenaline from earlier was running out. Exhaustion tugged at his bones and there was a low-level headache pulsing just behind his eyes. He was tired. He was angry. It was—as far as Daighre was concerned—a perfectly normal way to end the day.

Because if he didn’t get into a fight once a day, how else could he prove his self worth? His parents would say he could grow up and have some dignity. He would tell them to back off and bare his teeth. There was nothing wrong with the way he was going at life. It wasn’t his fault everybody around him was either annoying or just wrong. He let out an irritated snort at his own thoughts and continued picking his way down the foothills. The gash in his side made it hard for him to walk and he could already tell it would be a bitch to heal without reopening it every time he moved, but whatever.

That was a problem for the morning.

Right now, all he cared about was finding somewhere quiet and passing out for the next few hours. Somewhere not too untenable. And if he couldn’t find someplace quiet and secluded—he would make it quiet and secluded. Simple as that. Because while the forest seemed undisturbed, but he wouldn’t be surprised if some freaks came running out of the woodwork to greet him.

He had wanted to go with his mom to visit his sister on the mountain and regretted every minute she was gone. Perhaps if he was good he could attempt the trip with Mabel, and the two could get to know their sister and same-age niece. So the Donata boy stayed close, or at least close-ish, to home. He had intended for Mabel to come with him, but being unable to find his sister, decided to go off adventuring on his own. Perhaps he'd find or do something to write home about, and could brag to Mabel that he'd done it all without her.

Unfortunately, Corsair was fresh out of ideas. He didn't want to roam too far from home, and when he could see the mountain much more clearly and closely than he could back in Oak Tree Bend, he decided it was time to head home.

But then there was a snort. Corsair's ears twitched, soon hearing a faint, but not too faint, step. He was convinced it was Mabel, not doing a very good job hiding. She must have followed him all the way out there. One part of him was upset that she'd followed him and the other part was excited. "You can't hide from me, Mabel!" he turned around and eagerly set out to find her.

When he found the source of the noise, it was not Mabel. He looked at the stranger and tilted his head, almost as if doing so would magically make this not-Mabel into definitely-Mabel. It didn't. "You're not Mabel," he said, quickly coming to the conclusion that meeting someone new might have been even better than Mabel! He perked up again, almost prancing towards his new, potential friend. "I'm Corsair Donata," he proudly spoke his name, "What are you — hey, are you alright?"

They were like clockwork. He would show up somewhere with the honest intent of doing nothing except minding his own business and they would come stumbling out of the nearby woods to harass him. Did they have the birds on their side? Did they have wolves hiding in trees waiting for to sound the alarms? He didn’t know.

All he knew was that one second it was quiet. There was the sound of snow crunching beneath his paws and his own laboured breathing filling the air as he found someplace to rest for a few hours. Next there was the unmistakable yelling of an overexcited puppy and the pitter-patter of clumsy paws. He fought the urge to groan when the kid zeroed in on his location. The last thing he goddamn needed was to have one wolf leading more wolves to him and pissing him off.

His tail bristled and he tensed. There was a low-level growl forming in his throat and if the kid was smart they would see the signs for what they were and leave him alone. But with the way they were rambling a mile a minute, Daighre could already tell that wasn’t the case. Everything they said went in one ear and out the other as he focused on getting this over with.

They mentioned a Maple. Whatever. Their name was Coarse Fur Don’t Nod. Cool. They could have told him they were god Himself and Daighre wouldn’t have cared. All he cared about was answering the kid’s question and getting them away from him before the stupidity spread.

“Yes.” He was fine. Amazing. Wolves were meant to bleed from their faces and sides like he was.

Shallow water has trapped several fish in a small pond. Hunt Opportunity

Corsair ignored all signs of 'wolf is angry, do not approach' and continued to tilt his head left and right, as if coming upon an anomaly. The stranger announced that he was okay and it was clear that this wasn't making much sense to the young Donata. The gears visibly turned in his mind as he tried to figure out why the wolf would say he was fine when he wasn't. Not only wasn't, but clearly wasn't. He thought of himself, trying to hide a sprained paw in order to save his pride from his sisters, but at last that he could hide.

Because Daighre clearly was not bright enough to come to the conclusion himself, Corsair did it for him. "You're not okay," the boy, continuing to ignore any red flags, stepped closer to the wolf and sniffed. He didn't smell like Oak Tree Bend, or anywhere else that he was familiar with (which, admittedly, he was familiar with very few things). "You don't have to fib at me, I won't tell anyone," his tail gave a reassuring wag. "Promise," and a Donata promise was one to be kept.

"What, did you get in a fight with a cat or something?" he had not seen a wolf with the type of injuries that the stranger had, and could think of nothing else that would do so much damage and leave another wolf alive to tell the tale. "You should probably see a healer. My Mom's a healer, I'm sure she'd be happy to help you..." he paused, feeling uncertain about that. Aponi might not be happy to help him, so Corsair then added, "Well, she would if I asked her to, anyways."

Warning for some strong language! Daighre isn't happy.

He couldn’t believe it. There was no way—no goddamn way—that one wolf could possibly be so stupid. But the kid before him refused to stop talking and Daighre felt like he was witnessing history as nothing but garbage after garbage spewed out. He wasn’t okay? He didn’t have to fib? The brat promised he wouldn’t tell anyone? They would even help him? Daighre’s eyes narrowed and his fur bristled as he took a step forward. His lips peeled back to reveal sharp rows of white teeth and the growl rumbling in his throat was more than just a threat. No, it was a goddamn promise of the pain he would wrought upon the little shit if they didn’t shut up.

“Shut up.” He snarled. “You don’t goddamn know me. If I say I’m fine, I’m fucking fine.” He wasn’t some little brat that couldn’t fend for himself. His ears rolled forward and his tail lashed as he took another step into the kid’s personal space. “And another thing. I don’t give a crap about your mom or any other relative you might have and,” His lips twisted into a sneer.  “If you really wanted to help me that much, leave.”

He really couldn’t get much clearer than that.

(This post was last modified: Feb 21, 2018, 05:03 PM by Daighre I.)

The other boy did not seem to like any of the things Corsair was saying. Luckily for them (or maybe more likely, unluckily for Corsair), he was persistent. When the other snapped at him to shut up, the Donata did. He didn't seem so hurt at the words — Mom had said words didn't mean a thing — and quietly let the other wolf vent. Sometimes he had to do the same with his sisters, and usually after they got it all out, they'd play a game of chase or they'd wrestle and all would be well with the world.

To Corsair, the other wolf just reminded him of a hurt, injured animal. Scared and a little angry, but harmless and in need of assistance. He didn't mind that his personal space was intruded upon, and then scoffed when the wolf told him to leave. Boldly, or stupidly, Corsair stood his ground. "No," he said matter-of-factly. He straightened up, sort of like the way his mom did when she had to be stern, "You can cuss at me all you want, or you can stop being a baby and take a little bit of help when it's offered to you."

They were reaching new levels of stupidity. Levels he didn’t even know existed or thought possible because most wolves he met had basic survival instincts that stopped them from saying dumb shit like the brat was spewing before him. But apparently common sense didn’t exist in these parts. Whatever. If stupid assholes wanted to get into fights they couldn’t win, he would let them.

It wouldn’t be his body rotting in the middle of nowhere.

His tail twitched and his body tensed. The kid wanted to be some hero. Some kind of knight in shining armour that helped others and righted the wrongs. But Daighre, he knew something the dumb brat didn’t. The creature he was looking at wasn’t a hero. They were nothing. The kid was garbage in his path that he didn’t need to overcome so much as destroy.

“Leave,” He tried once more. There was a sneer on his face and it wasn’t a pleasant one as he towered over the little shit. “Or else I will kill you and leave you to rot like the garbage you are.” It was a promise. And his body might have been battered and exhausted but like hell would he ever let someone—anyone—pity him or try to help him.

Corsair glared at the other boy as he was told to leave again, soon followed by a threat, sprinkled with a little bit of insult on top. He felt a flick of flame in his chest, his teeth clenching as he very quickly stopped feeling sorry for the other wolf and simply felt angry. On top of that, the boy felt particularly obstinate. He would not leave, and the stupid, firey-eyed wolf could go find his own space.
"Who do you think you are?!" Corsair finally growled. "This is my home, so no. YOU leave!" he tried to come up with an insult on the fly. "You stupid... dumb-butt!" There! That would teach him.

No longer wanting the wolf so close to him, and not feeling particularly threatened to do anything about it, he shouted "And get out of my face!", giving Daighre a firm shove.

This was the kid’s home? Dumb brat must have been some weak, shitty loner because as far as Daighre could tell—he couldn’t smell any pack borders or even scents that implied the area had any recent activity. There was nothing but the cold scent of winter and frost in a forest of silence. His eyes narrowed in anger and his ears rolled forward. There was a growl rumbling in his throat, but he knew the kid was too dumb to understand.

Whatever.

He wouldn’t actually kill the brat. Not when he had a reputation to uphold and a dream of one day returning home in one piece. Killing someone’s kid probably wouldn’t help him with either of those goals. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t play at intimidation.

The kid shoved him. His eyes flashed, his muscles tensed, and his jaws parted while a snarl teared through his vocal chords. If the little shit thought they were worthy of touching him, they were worthy enough to lose the body part they did it with. He aimed for the kid’s muzzle with the intent of grabbing and shaking them by it.

See if they ever thought about touching him again.