Hidden Grotto [s] i made the call, but people saw the smoke

'Get out and stay out until you get your head out of your ass.'
 
He huffed as the words replayed inside his mind, over and over again. The annoying, mocking words of the hag he unfortunately knew only as his mother.
 
She needed him.
 
The pack needed him.
 
And sooner or later, she would see. She would come slinking out of the woods, asking him what the fuck he was doing, he should’ve been patrolling the borders. Like she didn’t know exactly what she did. What she said. Or maybe it would be his dad, dumb, stupid, and bumbling. Annoying in the way he only ever did what the hag wanted.
 
“Fucking bullshit.” He spat, at no one in particular, at nothing in particular. Leaves, snow, and ice crunched and shifted underfoot, a stone rolling in his wake, dropping into the water nearby, joining the pebbles underwater.
 
And speaking of pebbles, of pointless, amorphous nobodies—
 
Someone was nearby.
 
His hackles bristled, his stance stiff and his posture low, slouching, head and neck in line with his shoulders and raised tail.
 
“The fuck are you looking at?” He sneered, his chin jutted forward and up, and his upper lip curled back, sharp white teeth on display and salmon pink tongue pressed against the backs

(This post was last modified: Jan 26, 2021, 04:30 AM by Daighre.)

Chan was on his way down the mountainside, ready to dive back into the forests and search for wolves with answers. He used the well-beaten path he was familiar with at the Falls, and checked as he always did as he went for any sign of @Lila. The pale wolf below clearly wasn't her, but that didn't mean he was necessarily disappointed; a new face meant a new prospect for clues, and Chan was ever the optimist.

That was, until the younger wolf noticed him and responded aggressively. About halfway down the staggered cliffside, Chan stopped, mismatched eyes staring down at the other. The man wasn't stupid; he didn't go swatting at rattlesnakes. However, just because the boy was hissing didn't mean he had the venom in him to back it up.

"What's the right way to answer that?" he returned, his voice even as he resumed, at a more reserved pace, his trek downward.

He had barked and snapped and growled—
 
And yet he received no response in return. No, nothing beyond a calm, level-headed ‘What's the right way to answer that?’
 
The only thought inside his head was, fucking obnoxious.
 
He huffed. Looked away. Licked at his lips and his gums loudly; noisily. Let his ears roll back unhappily and distinctly uncomfortably against his head before rolling them forward once again. And with another pointed huff and his gaze returning forward—
 
“Whatever.” Whatever was the right answer to that. Whatever it was except what he had said, had done.
 
His stance remained wooden, shoulders and legs tensed. He made no move to step back, and yet no move to step forward.

(This post was last modified: Jan 26, 2021, 05:03 AM by Daighre.)

At the least Chan had managed to not escalate the situation. The irritation he caused remained evident nonetheless, but unfortunately... that was the blonde's problem, not his. Yet. He still had to walk past the yearling to get to the trail he was seeking, unless Chan was willing to go out of his way to avoid the young man. That felt a little foolish at this point; what was he going to do, latch down on Chan's tail like a bear trap?

He dropped down from ledge to ledge the last few yards before leaving stone and hitting snow. His legs punched through the icy crust audibly as he landed with a whoomph, snow crystals leaping into the air around him.

"So who pissed in your den today?"

He jumped down from the last ledge, sending up a plume of fine, sparkling snow that glittered and glowed in the sun like some kind of winter fucking wonderland—
 
And Daighre growled.
 
It was a low, rumbling sound deep inside his throat. A warning. A threat. His lip raised and twitching, and the bridge of his muzzle furrowed, rivets of skin.
 
And when the other spoke—'So who pissed in your den today?’—Daighre responded.
 
“Fuck you.” He snapped, snarled, and exploded, his hackles raised and bristling and his tail in the air. That was who fucking pissed in his den today.

Chan's muscles stiffened and his own fur began to rise, instincts bracing him as that low rumble reached his ears. Again he was met with violent vitriol, and it was clear the other wolf was absolutely done. The older man likely should have immediately turned around and found another way to get to where he wanted. A different reaction surfaced however, concern swelling within his lungs and knitting his brows together as he stared back at the stranger.

"What's wrong?" he asked, tone far from syrupy but still clearly earnest and somber, without mocking or even the lightheartedness his previous questions had maintained.

If the kid remained aggressive, Chan would leave him be, but he was old enough to know that whatever was going on with this wolf wasn't just a personality trait or life choice. Something had or was happening, and for all he knew this yearling needed help, and Chan would be damned if he didn't try at least once in that case.

(This post was last modified: Jan 27, 2021, 06:18 AM by Chan.)