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Post by grebo on May 17, 2007 7:50:45 GMT -5
Grebo had been travelling for around three years now, and it was getting tiresome. Gone was the feeling of freedom and adventure, the yearning to find himself and learn about the world. It had been replaced with the feeling that he wasn't really important, and didn't belong anywhere. His soul-searching had become soul-less, day after day doing the same thing, and everyone who he met was hostile.
He had been meaning to settle in a pack for many months now, but the barren wasteland he had just emerged from offered no clue to the nearest wolves. Only now did he come to a place where the scent of wolves blew strongly towards him on a fickle wind.
He paused to lap from a rivulet. Did it lead to a stream? Life, in his experience, always accumulated around water. His golden eyes reflected in the water, looking ahead. His white-tipped tail was held low, in the knowledge that there were others around, and the end of it flicked anxiously. He did not want to seem like an intruder.
He stopped drinking and lifted his head high on his broad, muscular shoulders. He wished that he could see properly around him, but right now he was surrounded by trees. He stood on his hind legs, leaning against a tree, and looked around. Then he quickly returned to all fours, and stretched with his claws in the ground.
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Post by nightblood on May 19, 2007 11:14:32 GMT -5
A splash echoed through the air, causing a flock of crows to take flight. On the shore of a nearby stream, a black and brown canine raised her dripping wet head out of the water, a large catfish grasped firmly in her jaws. The trout squirmed with rage at first, but grew limp as it came to terms with its inevitable death. Grinning in victory, the wolf leaped away from the water and bit down on the fish's neck, killing it instantly.
NightBlood dropped the corpse on the ground and licked the blood from her lips. Catfish was growing to be her favorite meal. As she dug into the meat, the happenings of the passed few weeks revolved around in her mind, unhindered by her usual restraint of thinking such things. She had been reaccepted into Arnlan! What a wonderful thought!
Just before NightBlood took one step toward the black trees, the wind shifted. A scent caught her attention, making her raise her head in alarm. A wolf was near the boarder. She turned her head to gaze upon a black male. A white ear and two white paws along with the fact that she could see the color of his eyes told her he was not either Alpha of Arnlan. He was no former member like she had been. He did not carry the Arnlanian scent. He was a wanderer.
The will arose to protect the pack. This could be an intruder as well as a recruite. Caution was to be taken. NightBlood wheeled around and barked lowdly for his attention. She sat by the stream and waited for his move. No sence in confronting one who had done nothing wrong. He had not crossed the border, nor had he howled for admitance, so what were his intentions?
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Post by grebo on May 20, 2007 11:03:40 GMT -5
The wind blew across Grebo, ruffling his short, soft black fur and disallowing his nose to find a scent. But it was not so strong that he didn't hear the sound of a she-wolf barking, not far away.
He looked around, the wind playing with the nape of his neck. A brown and black lady sat by the river, watching him. Who was she? She hadn't come from within the borders. Perhaps she, too, was waiting for acceptance.
He looked her up and down, and then turned to walk stealthily towards her, his head bowed: partly against the wind, and partly to show submission in case she was a pack member. Besides, as his father always said, it didn't cost anything to be polite. This was only a modified version of what his father said, because the original saying was something to do with ladies.
He reached her, and glanced respectfully at her. His tail was down in a solemn stance. "Hello," he said quietly, in his slightly gravelly, low and masculine voice. "Are you a member of this pack I smell nearby?"
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Post by nightblood on May 20, 2007 15:21:03 GMT -5
NightBlood's good eye watched him as he approached, the left following the guidence of the right, viewing nothing but darkness. The male was a full two inches shorter than her. She was sure she could take him if he was found to be violent.
She took a step toward him when he stopped to impress upon him her larger size, attempting to despell all thought of deception and attack. However, walking at all revealed a limp in her left hind leg. Cursing herself for the ignorance, she listened to him speak.
As he finished, she had chosen what to say. She knew her voice would surprise him at least. It was deeper than most females'.
"I have had my dealings with them. Who wants to know?"
She meant for the question to sound harsh. He had not given his name, which was customary for the first speaker to do.
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Post by grebo on Jun 8, 2007 8:57:27 GMT -5
(Sorry for late posting)
Grebo kept his head bent, glancing at the female. It was difficult to tell from here, but he thought she was a little bigger than him. No matter. Many a wolf had made the mistake of assuming that how tall they were mattered. Grebo's medium height had never posed a problem: his bull-like build and experience in battle were mighty allies against any oponent. However, he doubted this female would be problematic. She had a limp: a crippled wolf wouldn't pick a fight with a healthy one, surely.
Her voice was quite strange though. It was obviously a female voice, but very low. He supposed that it fitted her, though. She seemed like quite a butch lady, although Grebo never trusted his first impressions. He couldn't read body language or expressions to save his life, and those who trusted their first perception often ended up in deep stuck.
She didn't seem to be a border guard, as he had hoped. So what was she doing here? Was she new to the pack, and wandering around exploring? But no - it felt as though she had a long past with them, so she knew her way around. But now...well, they didn't seem to be getting anywhere. Perhaps he should stop grovelling and start asking questions.
Grebo HATED grovelling. For the first time his fiery yellow eyes met hers, although not in a way that would seem threatening. He wished she didn't use such a complicated way of asking his name. It was unnecessary.
"My name's Grebo," he said, "Son of Protagonist. My grandmother was Sootyca, princess of Shadows." He always stated part of his pedigree, just in case he met a relative. You wouldn't want to kill your own cousin, would you? "I've come here looking for a pack," he continued. "What about you?" She struck him as being slightly sulky, but he had learned to initiate conversation in the presence of other wolves. He didn't want to be in the presence of this one, though. She didn't seem useful to him, and he didn't particularly want to make friends yet. But Grebo would never have it be said that he wasn't polite.
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Post by Grebo guest on Jun 22, 2007 11:48:47 GMT -5
Bump
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Post by nightblood on Jun 28, 2007 23:22:20 GMT -5
The larger wolf listened to his answer. She didn't expect to find any relations as he listed his family. He didn't have the red eye mark that the line of RibCage sported. So NightBlood waited in patience, something that, she thought, should be marked down in history. She wasn't known for her patience...
"You may call me 'Night' for now, Grebo."
His name was a strange sound, but it really didn't matter to NightBlood. Although she knew he had been honest in answering her, she couldn't completly trust him. And Sofika would probably have her head if she had been so careless as to give her full name to a member of Sallin.
"Yes, I am a member of this pack, but I cannot permit you inside these boarders. And you shall not see the inside of these boarders unless a member with the authority to do so finds you worthy."
She grinned as a thought entered her mind. This would be a fun experience.
"So I will deside weither you are worthy to be looked over by one with that authority, shall I?"
That was a record speech from NightBlood. She had never spoken so much at once! Still smiling, she sat down and faced the other wolf fully. Ears, eye, and nose on full allert in his direction. She would test this beast herself. Only then would she call for one of the Alphas. More or less, it would probably be Sofika. She was the one she had had the most contact with. She hadn't even met Karolek yet.
"First of all, have you had any contact with the pack called 'Sallin'?"
NightBlood had never heard of that pack until she got here, but she had heard the names spoken frequently... and it was spoken with hate behind it. So she was sure that any wolf on good terms with that pack was to be elliminated on the spot- no questions asked.
"Answer truthfully," she added, "Maybe I won't know you're lieing, but the Alphas are not so foolish."
Another grin, this time it was sarcastic. Had she, NightBlood, just insulted herself? Indeed, she had! Well, well. It seemed that she had a funny bone in her after all!
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Post by grebo on Jun 29, 2007 7:44:44 GMT -5
Grebo glanced up at the large female again. Aha! So she was a member of the pack. He had thought so, because of her stature and confidence.
Night. He didn't think it was her real name. Why should she give her real name to a complete stranger? He just gave her his, but he could always change it. He wasn't well-known, and no threat to this pack. Now that she hadn't attacked him, there was a real chance that he would be admitted.
She said quite a lot, and Grebo paid attention. So she wouldn't admit him, but she'd get someone else to if he proved good enough to her. Formalities: all formalities, designed to protect the pack. He had heard it all before.
One word pricked his ears more than the others: Sallin. Where had he heard that word before? "Hold on, please," he asked politely. "I need to think." He cast his mind's eye over his travels, and stopped when he remembered. A little dog had lain in his path one day: a feral dog, he guessed, since they were a while away from the man village. It had been mutilated and parts of its skin were missing, to the point where he had thought it was the prey of a sabre at first. He had sniffed it cautiously, and his eyes had widened when he discovered that the only scent on the poor, lifeless body was a wolf's. Disgusted, he had fled. Later on in his travels he had come across land that held the same wolf's stench that was on that dead dog. He had asked a forest falcon who lived there, and it had trembled with fear and whispered the word, "Sallin".
As Grebo remembered, his brow furrowed and his eyes flashed angrily. "Sallin?" He looked up, almost forgetting to submit. "I..." he shook his head, trying to clear it so that he could make sense. What if this pack was allied with them? "No, I haven't," he said. It wasn't lying in the strictest sense of the word. But if they were allies, he would leave when he could and run far away. He wanted nothing to do with so cruel a pack. If he ever smelt a Sallin wolf he would rip it to shreds, just as the poor dog had been ripped up. But he stamped on this emotional fire. If it affected his expression even for a second, this wolf he was talking to would think him suspicious.
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Post by nightblood on Jun 29, 2007 9:26:48 GMT -5
"Good," NightBlood snapped. She leaned forward a little, anger written all over her face to show him her hatred of that pack. "Because the very name is said with disgust around here. From what I hear, they are a cruel pack of murderers. If you are accepted here and you happen to see one of their members, it would be wise to kill them on sight. They are not to be trusted... ever."
She pulled her head back up and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She closed her eyes to simmer in her own mind. A few seconds later, she opened her eyes again, ready to continue the interrigation.
"Every member offers a bit of their own strength to the pack. Weither it is their cunning, swift speed, or intellegence. What do you have to offer the pack?"
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Post by grebo on Jul 1, 2007 11:20:18 GMT -5
The apprehensive Grebo was relieved to find that Arnlan was an enemy of Sallin. This was even better than he had expected - perhaps him being in this pack would do the area some good, and he could die knowing that he had fought against those horrible creatures of Sallin. As Night spoke, the anger ignited in his eyes and his ears flickered backwards. "You may be perfectly reassured," he said in a slow, controlled manner, "That if I ever meet a Sallin wolf, my fangs will be the last thing it sees." The muscles on his shoulders tensed. So they had enemies. And now it would be official that he was their enemy. Obviously it wasn't just that poor dog that they had murdered.
He got the feeling that Night felt the same way as he did, by the fact that she had to breathe deeply to calm herself. Wow, he thought. I just read some complex body language. Chuffed but still seemingly emotionless, he listened to what she next had to say.
"In my last pack," he began, "I was trained as a border guard and spent many months patrolling our vast borders. It was compulsory for all young wolves in my pack to go through this, and I also even though I was supposed to be the heir. During my time there I killed more intruders than any other guard - only intruders who were threatening, you understand, the safety of our pack. So although I am good at other things, such as solving problems and leading (as well as participating in) hunting squads, the one thing I am most skilled at is fighting. But I'm afraid I will not kill innocent wolves - I only kill when I know the pack is threatened." He stopped, his tongue exhausted. He hated explaining things, as it took so many words. He wished he could just show her what he was good at - like in the old days, when new members were tested for soundness by battling against the best fighter wolf so that he could judge their strength. He knew that his speech was probably wrong in some way, probably broken in tone or sounding insincere, or even big-headed - but at least he didn't mention making speeches as one of his talents. "Rest assured," he said, giving it another try, "That no rival wolf will kill a wolf of any pack that I'm in, unless he kills me first, and that will...be difficult for him." Okay, that didn''t sound right either. He hoped he could find the right words before the alpha saw him.
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Post by nightblood on Jul 1, 2007 12:13:10 GMT -5
NightBlood smiled at his words. Even though she was sure that, like herself, he was not one for talking that much, he had done an excelent job of teller her of his skills. Direct and to the point. That's what she liked.
A boarder guard, a fighter, a hunter, even a leader. This wolf had it all. Night's secret dream was that one day, although it was highly unlikey, she would be the beta of this pack or the alpha of her own. Grebo was deffinatly one to keep an eye on. He could easily rise to the rank of beta if he wanted. If fate had it, they would one day share the rank or be batteling it out. He was quite the challenger...
Pulling her mind away from her fantacies, Night ran his words back through her head. He had, apparently, been in many battles, not war, but plently of one-on-one fights at least. These words could simply be talk to make him sound tough. Night doubted it. However, it would be careless to simply take a stranger's word as true, not matter how much one believed it.
"Sounds like you are quite the fighter. I, too, am... educated in battle. Although, with this limp and the blindness of my left eyes, I would not be of much use in a war... Would you care to demonstrate your abilities? No blood. First one to be pinned looses."
She blinked, awaiting his answer. All the whiel, tencing herself up. Readying herself for a spar.
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Post by grebo on Jul 3, 2007 13:56:01 GMT -5
When Night mentioned a spar, Gebo was instantly alert. He had been assessing her whilst they were talking, and was surprised that she had mentioned her weaknesses beforehand. Must have been out of the war game for a while, he thought. Nevertheless she was not going to be easy - she was taller than him and well-muscled. Plus he had no anger against her, although he did wonder why she was still playing with him - why not call the alphas, let them watch him fight? But he knew that if he suggested this she would think him scared, so he just nodded, his eyes fixed in their usual stoic, controlled and unreadable expression.
He would use her weaknesses against her later perhaps, but he knew that if he made her hind quarters drop she could easily whip around and get him with the business end. Grebo knew from experience that the hindquarters of wolves behaved themselves: it was the front quarters that you had to watch. As for her eye...well, he'd keep that in mind.
However, every wolf, himself included, had one guaranteed weakness - between the shoulder blades. It varied, with some wolves merely agonised by the impact, others paralysed for a couple of seconds and knocked to the floor. This was his pet spot, his favourite to start with in a fight. And her shoulders were higher than his, but no problem.
He took a couple of steps back and then shot forward like a rabbit from a trap, powerful forelegs thumping the ground. A couple of paces away from her he sprung into the air, propelled by his back legs, and folded his front legs like a fox about to pounce on a mouse. Then he dove down, rallying the power in his shoulders ready to plunge it all between her shoulder blades. All the while he bore in mind that she could move out of the way - in which case he would probably land abruptly and stumble. But he didn't reckon she was too quick, and it was worth the gamble. A stumble would last what, three seconds maybe? During which time she would probably have enough time to turn around and plan her move.
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Post by nightblood on Jul 3, 2007 14:26:35 GMT -5
Night watched solomly as he backed up, readying himself for the fight. An arrogant (and possibly stupid) wolf would take this as a surrender, but the dark female knew better. He was making more room for a run. She lowered her head and watched him, careful not to let any emotion show on her face. She didn't know how well this one could read body language. Suddenly- movement!
Grebo was much too fast! His speed matched the only wolf to ever attack her head-on. She knew the pain of watching for too long. Her left eye was the fatality of that encounter. She blinked, trying to get rid of the memory. But when her good eye opened, she found no wolf in sight.
Instinctively, she looked up. The only way anyone could leave her sight that quickly was by jumping. And, sure enough, the black-and-white male was in the air above her. He was too close to dodge now, especially with her limp. She guessed his plan: a deadly spinal snap. That would be against her rules, but he could just as well throw all his weight on her and pin her right off.
There was only one way now. She pushed herself up off the grownd and onto her hind legs. As long as her left leg held out, she would be able to take him out of the air. Her intention was to simply lock jaws with him and throw him to the right before she took the full impact of his leap. If she missed, there was always the possibility of biting one of his limps and bringing him down. Or, if she wasn't fast enough, they would simply fall over and both of them would feel the impact of the soft ground.
With a snarl, NightBlood opened her jaws and awaited the impact.
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Post by grebo on Jul 4, 2007 10:49:22 GMT -5
Grebo's hopes of a hit were high until Night, thinking with astonishing speed, reared up high like a horse. Her experience in battle was evident, as her action was unexpected. And now it was too late to land on his feet. His mind racing, he prepared himself to lock jaws with her: but he had a trick up his sleeve. In the same instant as his strong white jaws met with hers, he twisted his body to the left and used momentum from their clash to swing his hind legs forward and kick her on her right shoulder as hard as he possibly could. He put all of his effort into the kick, knowing that if he missed it would at least put a strain on her so she had to let go, and unbalance her. He kicked as high up the shoulder as he could, knowing that the weakness of her left hind leg might be on his side this time. Of course, like all moves it could all amount to nothing - in which case, after his attempt at a kick (whether it hit home or not) he thrust his hind legs towards the ground to steady himself for a pushing contest. He wasn't too aprehensive about that - it was all about muscle. But this girl knew his strengths now, and he knew only two of hers: she was big, and she could think quickly.
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Post by nightblood on Jul 4, 2007 13:14:37 GMT -5
NightBlood felt the impact first. Her jaws closed on his snout. She growled when she notices the feel of his turn. He was aiming his hind legs toward her right shoulder. Her eye caught the movement. She could see them as they broke away from the straight line. Thinking fast, she followed through with her original plan. If he was aiming from the position he was currently in, his paws would hopefully reach up and over her back.
An idea came to mind. If Grebo did, in fact, miss his target, he might fall onto her back. Not to mention, their jaws were still locked. He could pin her from there. That mishap was easily rectified. NightBlood raised her right front leg and put a barrier between his body and hers. At the same time, she let go of his muzzle. As soon as (and if) she felt his legs go over her, she would pull his front end down with her leg. Her goal was to either flip him over, or give him a major headach if his head ended up hitting the ground.
There was one flaw in her plan though. If Grebo ended up simply hitting her in the back, they would probably both end up being pushed far away from eachother and they'd both hit the ground.
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