Vagabond [Lynker]

[Deleted]

The game trail had gone cold, and the early morning hour sent a chill up the female’s spine. Hunting alone was not as productive as Datura had hoped. She was once a star hunter in her former pack, dead nearly a year. Even as an adolescent, she had managed to keep herself alive, but now... The game had changed, and Datura was still learning the new rules that accompanied the new home she had unintentionally adopted as her own. The tempting scent of the caribou she had been stalking vanished into nothingness after leading the fae south through a lush valley, closer to an imposing range of tall peaks that she had no desire to climb.

Her prey’s scent was replaced by the stink of a pack, with many distinct lupine smells still lingering in the air. Jaws clenched tightly as her amber eyes scanned the vicinity for any sign of the pack that claimed it as their own. The foothills were lush with spring growth, and wildflowers painted the area with spectacular shades of yellow, orange, crimson, violet. But Datura was not there to admire the scenery. She had set out for a solo hunting excursion, but hunting was proving to be challenge in Anikira. It had been disheartening to learn that there were indeed other wolves and lots of them – kindly packs with benevolent alphas, fierce packs led by savage leaders. She knew she had to be careful where she traveled, as one wrong step could easily lead her into hostile lands. She was still regaining her strength after the long journey that had taken her to the beach, to this strange place filled with wolves, but scant prey.

The fae’s coat glowed a warm auburn shade in the sunlight as she emerged from the shade of the oaks that lined the foothills of the Kinath. If these lands were indeed claimed, as she suspected, she was trespassing, but she was growing too famished to care. She knew she wasn’t supposed to be there, but that fact only made the prospect of continuing that much more interesting to Datura. If she was caught, then she would simply feign innocence. Then, an unmistakable scent caught her attention – it was a wolf, and a male. Instinctively, the she-wolf lowered closer to the ground, trying to make herself look scarce in the tall grass that surrounded her, hoping to avoid detection.

Words: 399
Tag: Lynker

[Lynker]

The morning sun’s luxuriously warm golden rays were eagerly soaked up by the thick black fur of a small male sprawled in the tall grass. Lynker had in fact passed out in the field the night before, exhausted from a long night’s hunting which – although ultimately successful and well worth the effort – had drained him of energy and encouraged his decision to fall asleep here instead of making the trip back home to his den by Nyspoli’s Pool.

To be honest, the amount of sleep he’d gotten had long ago recharged his energy reserves, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to move from his comfortable spot just yet. It was just so nice and warm in the sun... and the warrior didn’t have any urgent duties that needed attending to. Later in the day he would probably go and find Curse to try his luck with a spot of fishing again (as if he had any chance of catching those horrible slippery creatures) but for now he could simply take the opportunity to relax by himself with nothing to disturb him.

Except perhaps an intruder. Dark nostrils twitched at the unmistakeable scent of a wolf close by, and Lynker’s hazel eyes blinked groggily open as he tried to identify who the scent belonged to. A female, perhaps? Yes, that was right. She didn’t smell like Belle though, or Katja – in fact, her scent was markedly unfamiliar, as though she hadn’t spent much time in the Oriens at all. With a jolt of alarm, Lynker rolled quickly to his paws and scanned the area, taking a while to spot the brown-furred creature camoflaged amongst the tall grass.

“You there!” The warrior growled as he strode towards her, neck fur bristling. “Who are you? What are you doing here? You are not of the Zakur pack… are you?” He trailed off a little awkwardly, suddenly remembering the uncertainty in his ability to distinguish wolf scents from one another. What if she had joined only recently, and that was why he hadn’t met her yet? It was better to be safe than sorry though, and despite his doubts he was pretty sure she was an intruder, so his hackles remained raised as he stood alert, prepared to react to any aggressive behaviour.

As he waited for a response to his interrogation, he noted with resigned irritation that this was yet another wolf who was taller than him, though at least she did not tower over him as many others did. Not that it mattered anyway – size was no obstacle, and in fact being small could be an advantage in a fight. He would certainly not be lacking the passion if it came to violence today; Lynker had a responsibility to defend Zakur packlands, and if necessary he would fight to his dying breath to ensure that goal was achieved.

Actually, to tell the truth, he hadn’t seen his packmates around much recently – a brief moment’s thought was given to wondering where they could have all disappeared to, but the lone pack wolf found that he didn’t particularly care. None of them were close to him anyway, and he would continue to protect these lands no matter whether other wolves lived here with him or not. The Oriens had been his home for the best part of his life; ever since he and Curse had first been washed up on the shores of Anikira all those years ago.



((OOC: Psh, what are you talking about, this reply isn't late at all! (...sorry ;-))

[Deleted]

Datura cringed when the unknown male appeared from the golden grass, cursing herself mentally for allowing him so close. One misstep could spell certain doom, and without Goliath, she had only herself to keep her hide safe out in the great unknown. The island was big, but riff with lupine activity. Back on the mainland, her encounters with others of her species were extremely rare, but it seemed Anikira had a pack or a roaming vagabond lurking in every region. There was nowhere to run, so she did not attempt to flee. Instead, her posture drooped submissively.

Her eyes locked with the pack wolf. He was small, and seemed even more so in comparison with the massive beast called Goliath that she had already encountered. He was even shorter than Datura herself, she noted, something that was very unusual for the opposite sex. She saw the fur along the back of his neck bristling in outrage by the female’s audacity – willfully traveling to a place she did not belong. His hackles raised, protective of the lands. His voice, laced with irritation, caused the female’s ears to fold backwards, but she quelled the instinct bubbling within her that wanted to growl, wanted to lash one – he was closer to her size than most males, after all. But in her weakened state, Datura realized with disdain, she was in no position to fight another of her kind.

Then again, she pondered before she spoke a word, the defensive male had no idea that she had knowingly entered forbidden lands. He knew nothing about the foreign female, he knew nothing about her past. It seemed he didn’t even know whether or not she was a part of his pack, something bizarre that immediately piqued Datura’s interest. Now she knew the name of the pack that claimed these lands. She also knew that the Zakur pack was distant, perhaps spread across a wide swath of territory. A pack wolf should, at the very least, recognize his fellow pack mates from potential enemies. If this one could not tell the difference, she reasoned, then this pack was not a stable one.  An unstable pack was a wanderer's good fortune.

Being petite and female had its advantages. A lone female was far less menacing than a male roaming solo. Her malnourished frame pressed closer still to the ground beneath her belly, shrinking away as if she was fearful. Her expression wore a similar shy façade, a frown tugging at her lips and amber eyes wide with feigned terror. Her voice quavered convincingly when she finally gave a response. ”I – my name is Eris,” she lied, recalling the name of one of her slaughtered pack mates. ”I have only just arrived here, and I am lost and hungry. Please show mercy.” She bowed further still, but her intense stare never once strayed from the male.

She looked pitiful enough to fit the part – it was hard to fake starvation, and she had yet to have her fill since arriving on the island. Her ribs protruded visibly, her coat was unkempt and shabby in the warm sunshine, and her expression remained solemn.

Words: 524
Tag: Lynker

[Lynker]

Lynker watched the she wolf closely, hawk-eyed as he followed her every move and tried to decipher her intent. He still wasn’t brilliant at reading the body language of wolves – hence the keen surveillance – and would never be entirely adept in social situations, although he had improved markedly during the time that he had been part of the Amar and Zakur packs. He could, however, immediately tell that this femme was submissive toward him – or at least pretending to be – as she shrunk down into the grass and stared up at him with wide caramel eyes, as if he was a monster about to devour her.

Her voice was weak and quavery when she spoke, haltingly answering his questions. “My name’s Lynker,” the black wolf grunted begrudgingly in reply to her nervous introduction. Her show of bowing much too far in deference to him, followed by a pitiful story about being lost and hungry was not the kind of response he had been expecting, which caused the small male to huff and fluff up his fur again defensively to reassure himself that he had control of this situation. He would not let his guard down for one second, no matter how non-threatening she appeared. After all, he himself was not very intimidating, and yet he could hold his own in a fight against his friend Curse, who was much larger and more powerful than most wolves. She might be stronger than she looked at first glance – indeed she might simply be biding her time, waiting for the right moment to strike and take him by surprise…

The suspicious male eyed the cowering femme critically in an attempt to find any excuse to attack and subsequently chase her scrawny hide straight out of the Oriens, but couldn’t find any faults in her submissive behaviour which might suggest more dubious motives. In fact, he was beginning to feel rather sorry for her; she seemed to be genuinely lost, and was so thin and scraggly that he doubted she had had a decent meal in weeks.

“Well, Eris…” he growled low, not meaning to be particularly hostile but neither wanting to show that she had touched some reserve of sympathy deep within him. “As a warrior I can’t do anything for your hunger, but I can show you a way back out of the territory. Which direction are you heading?” He assumed she had some specific destination in mind – wandering randomly was generally not a good idea for a lone wolf as it was bound to end in trouble at some point in time.



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