those short days and long nights.
#1
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Private. Slight powerplay or future play or something? >_> Let me know if you want it changed. Also, this post is really weird o_O

Dusk. Again. The eve was not unlike the first night they met, but things were different. The sun swooped toward the horizon along nearly the same path, and the insects droned on in the background still—but the Star slipped a little lower with each passing day, and the crickets' chirps came faster, as if they feverishly sought to finish their song before the Summer's end. And then the same yowl rose up from the clan's southern border—that deceptive, coyote-like yap—but this time, the Aquila would not be fooled. And this time, Barrett paid the sun-bleached skulls no mind; this time, he did not look nearly as apprehensive or concerned.


Why should he be? He was here on some official unofficial business, but that second part wasn't at all obvious from his call. No; for all intents and purposes, his summons could have been any coyote come seeking audience with the Leader. He sat attentive yet restless, with his bushy tail beating against the tall, dry grass even now. He licked his chops in anticipation and tested the air with his nose; Zeke couldn't be too far off. He scanned the horizon continuously, and at the first sign of movement, he pulled it back together—he sat still and casual. Nobody would suspect a thing.

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#2
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The savage in man is never
quite eradicated

SORRY I SUCK AT LIFE Word Count » --


He woke from a nightmare and did not have to grapple with what had been to know the cause. Every night he saw the gleaming buck—he hated it, now. Whatever Alaine had done to him was slowly tearing him apart, but Ezekiel was, if nothing else, stubborn. The Aquila pushed himself up and stretched, his body twisting into a smaller shape. It felt late. Roan paws lifted him out of his cave, and with a brisk trot he began his patrol. Hybrid would likely be out anyway, but his suspicion of his fellow pack-mates were growing by the day. No one who had lived under his father, save Talitha, had any faith in him as Aquila.

A familiar voice summoned him towards the south, and Zeke picked up his pace. It was still light by the time he reached the borders, but the sun had sunk into the bay and it would not remain that way for long. His body was loosened by the jog, and some of his less pleasant thoughts had slipped away. The hybrid met Barrett with a quirked brow and a faint frown on his face. “What are you doing so far north?” He asked, unable to hide the slight irritation in his voice.

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#3
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This amuses me way more than it should. Lemme know if you want me to edit anything, since some of it is powerplayish >>

A brow lifted in response to his cousin's dour demeanour—poor Zeke. Was he still stuck in a rut? Cut loose, he replied ambiguously, rolling his shoulders in a canine shrug. His expression melted into a mischievous grin. And now I'm bustin' you out, he added. His tail swished impishly behind him. Fuck it—if anyone asks, you were taking care of business, he added, as if he expected the blond Aquila to protest this proposition. Com'on, he wuffed, dropping to his forelimbs and waggling his butt in the air ridiculously.


And then before the curse'd warrior could get a word in edgewise, he pounced forward, nipped playfully at a shoulder, pivoted, and darted off, laughing maniacally (well—perhaps not on that last bit). His movements came quick and sure, but if Zeke was observant, he'd catch a whiff of something herby and sweet. Barrett's head was still on straight (as straight as it ever was, anyway), but he'd stashed some treats in the forest for later.


He didn't bother to look back. Play alleviated tension and the instinct to chase was undeniable. The teen sprinted in leaps and bounds across the plain, tongue lolling out one side, ears back, and gaze alight. Then he vanished into the treeline.

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#4
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The savage in man is never
quite eradicated

SORRY I SUCK AT LIFE Word Count » --

Ezekiel opened his mouth to argue with Barrett, attempting to cite some reason that he couldn’t leave, but everything was forgotten when the wolf nipped him. This instinctive challenge was met with a growl, but the fact that Barry ran meant everything else was dropped. Every wolf, coyote, and dog within his bloodline let out a call that he could not deny. Silently, he threw his body forward and gave into the need to catch.

Large bounding strides carried Ezekiel after his would-be cousin. Red paws tore up the earth under his feet, speeding him along after the trail of the wolf. The scent of a pack was no longer prominent on Barry, only that of the marijuana and the city. Ezekiel’s body, made of compact muscle and little fat, was thrilled by the motion. It had been so long since he had run with a purpose, and now the weeks and months of distance training were put to the test.


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#5
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O hai I reply out of order now. -Only has enough time to reply to either one longer thread or two shorter ones, and is opting for the latter.- xD Feel free to powerplay them wrastling or something when he catches him XDXD

Above all else, he was Maserati's son. Yes, he loved his father and held Anselm on some crooked sort of pedestal, but in body and spirit, he took after her most. His lithe, carefree mother. And ah; she was named Maserati for a reason. Her speed was nearly unprecedented, and Barry had leached off of those genetics heavily. Still, he was unpractised and Ezekiel was smaller. The dark hybrid would give the blond a run for his money, but in a full blown marathon, the wolf would easily be overtaken. Maybe, he mused, with the Aquila's company he could finally find motivation to restart his old training routines—it would do him some good, and now he felt like he had all the time in the world.


For now he used his head start to his advantage and wove through the forest haphazardly, leaping fallen logs and ducking under low-hanging boughs. He flew down a small stream, toes splayed widely to grasp the slippery rocks beneath the surface and jaws snapping at the cool, refreshing water that flew up around his feet. It alleviated the dryness that grew in his throat from the exertion, and if he was lucky, his antics might throw Zeke off (at least a little). It was darker in the dense undergrowth and his mottled coat allowed him to blend seamlessly into the shadows. It was probably futile, but he sprang off into a thicket and ducked down low, lying in wait to pounce on his unsuspecting (or not) companion.

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#6
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The savage in man is never
quite eradicated

baaaaaaaaaaaw Word Count » +3

Speed belonged to coyotes; to his mother, and his grandmother. Gabriel had given his son size, and weight, and Ezekiel was a compact thing. He was tall for a coyote, but not as large as a wolf despite his heavily muscled body. While he could run fast, he was a long-distance runner. In short spurts, someone larger could overtake him. At nearly twice his weight and a foot taller, Barry had that advantage now.

Yet instinct was powerful, and even if he could not keep up the chase, he would chase. This was the way of wild things, of canines, and of the domestic blood that filtered through wild veins. While this was a game, in some corner of his mind, he recognized that this play was a lesson. Grimly, his lips pulled away from yellowing teeth and a pink tongue that lolled out of his mouth. Barrett’s trail was easy for the experienced tracker to follow. He stunk like a male, a musky, awful scent that would have turned Zeke into a savage if they were on his territory.

The coyote hardly slowed at the stream, his father’s wide paws spread wide to carry him across the stones. His feet were used to rocky terrain and hardened so that the river-smoothed rocks were barely felt. He slowed only as Barrett’s scent shifted, and took a moment to sniff at either bank. At the eastern bank, Ezekiel spotted a single smudge of a pawprint and the wet, wolfish scent of another male. Ears high, he paused to lap up water.

The tactic changed. Ezekiel had no desire to hunt the distant cousin, but he feigned ignorance and began trotting through the woodland. Though he could not see the wolf, he could smell him. Every muscle was tense despite his languid pace and appearance.

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#7
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Barry is seriously a kid that never grew up XD

Barry didn't have to wait long--there he was!!! One... two... three! Raaaar! he exclaimed as he launched out of the undergrowth at his older cousin, forelimbs extended like a lion grasping for its prey. So much for stealth. And grace. Slick, muddy paws and loose leaf litter were not the most stable combination, and the wolf's eyes went big as he realised a moment too late that his awesome little "attack" wasn't going to go as planned. His hind legs skidded out from under him and he tried to catch himself mid-fall, but--while he managed to keep from faceplanting into the forest floor--his forelegs landed at too strange an angle and he wound up crashing to ground just in front of the Aquila.


Reflexively from his training, he swung his body into alignment and tucked up his legs so he could roll to dissipate the extra momentum. In a combat situation, he might have stopped on his feet and sprung away, but this was just good ol' fashioned fun. Barry finished on his back, pawing wildly at the tawny coyote's chest and thrashing his head around, trying to nip at a leg. Clearly he was no worse for the wear--his tail was swinging furiously. Any blows he might have landed were exceedingly light: his claws were carefully retracted and he pushed only with the pads of his paws; any playful bites would be too weak to graze even the most sensitive skin.


It had been too long since he got to play like this--most "civilised adults" would frown on this tomfoolery. But hey, Zeke already knew he was a spazz, right? So Barrett laughed with pure, simple delight. To think... he wasn't even high yet!

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#8
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The savage in man is never
quite eradicated

Zeke = WUT DO I DO? Word Count »

Play was something that Ezekiel had lost. He had only his sister for company as a child, and after she and his mother ran off, Fatin and Tristan. His most valued teacher had done little for him in terms of play, for Tristan was a rather blunt man with focuses only on battle. They had joked sometimes, yes, but never played. Everything was a lesson. Everything was a test. So in many ways, Ezekiel did not fully recognize this game as a game. It was a challenge, and one he intended to win. Paranoia had yet begun to seep into his blood, but oh he did rise to the call of dominance and he would take it from his much larger cousin if he could.

The noise caused Ezekiel to jump. His expression turned to one of savagery, teeth bared and ears flat, but then quite suddenly the dark wolf stumbled, fell and landed on his back. Ezekiel balked, his eyes going wide and ears rising to a high red crown. It took him a moment to recognize that the wolf was still going after him. Puzzled by the nips and the soft blows, Ezekiel sidestepped the teeth as best he could before he went for the back of the neck. Barry’s fur was already too thick for his play bite to do much damage, but Ezekiel intended to hold him. His own tail, high in the air, wagged a few times itself. This was fun.

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#9
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Bahaha. Ilu Mel XD Powerplay with the ear thing, let me know if you want it changed, rofl >_>;

Once in a blue moon, Barry assumed a dominant role. After all, he was the engineer, architect, and supervisor overseeing stable construction; once upon a time, he'd lead a small hunting party of Dreamers and greeted prospective joiners at the borders. Point was he could be tactical, decisive, and managerial when he put his mind to it, but that was the thing--his mind was usually elsewhere. Being in charge also meant responsibility. How could he rebel against the established order if he was the order? Some deep, instinctual part of him understood their posturing for what it was, but consciously, it wasn't even on his radar. A full year and a half his senior, and reeking of the musky pheromones of an Alpha, it only seemed natural Zeke assume dominance. Still, there was no fear or cowardice on Barrett's part--he exuded calm confidence, even while actively submitting. In a sense, he simply took the path of least resistance. Most (sane) individuals wouldn't violently pursue or reprimand someone who clearly wasn't challenging them anyway.


At any rate, the younger male was acting more like a nuisance than a legitimate contender. As the beige Aquila grasped at the ruff of his neck, the coffee hybrid uttered a series of nonsensical vocal sounds, squirmed ineffectively, and--apparently resigned to his capture--reached up with his paws to pull the coyote in closer. He strained to nom (gently, of course) on one of those cinnamon ears. A mock scowl was offered as he spat it out. You know, he snorted, speaking coherently for the first time in minutes, I might just have something to make you taste better. His tone was one of jesting reproach--obviously he had no intentions of 'tasting' his cousin so much as consuming something that, by chance, happened to make anything one tasted more fantastic than usual. Ezekiel would hopefully understand the allusion. Subconsciously, he'd already begun to shift; hands would be helpful if they were to smoke. His bag wasn't stashed far from here.

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#10
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The savage in man is never
quite eradicated

Yaay you have power again! <3 Also, accent = clearly Canadian Word Count »

Subconsciously, the role of a subordinate was one without fear just as the role of the alpha was not one of true violence. Submission eased the tension where fear would only give rise to tooth and claw. Barrett’s behavior settled the wolfish part of Ezekiel’s mind that required such things, and sent it back behind the more powerful and more coyote-based conscious. He released the scruff as his own ear was tugged on, and lifted one large paw. With a grunt, he pushed himself off of his darker cousin and stepped back.

The shift became apparent not long after, and wordlessly, Ezekiel retreated to the brush to complete his own. He did not wish to offend, nor intrude on the private moments of a transformation. His own took only slightly longer than expected, and once concluded, he returned. Feeling strangely naked without his weapons, the hybrid snorted bullishly through his nose. “Y’think it might have been easier just to be forward about your plan, eh?” His accent trailed, but there was no malice in his voice. While his eye remained hawkish and hard, he smiled honestly—something that his amusing (though perplexing) cousin managed to scrape out of him.

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#11
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<3

Barrett, too, gave a wide berth to others in the midst of transfiguration. The intermediate stages were the most vulnerable and looked the most awkward. He was uncomfortable shifting around strange wolves and assumed the same held true in reverse; initiating the transformation while still in Zeke's immediate presence was a sign of trust. The two year old had no doubts his distant cousin was capable of great, terrible things — the piked skulls lining Inferni's borders were a testament to that — but he personally felt at ease with the savage male, and for Barry, that was all that mattered.


And so, he offered naught but a loony grin as the two reunited. He plopped down unceremoniously at the base of a towering maple and began to roll something up for the pair to enjoy. After it was sparked and passed off, he rolled his shoulders languidly and heaved a content sigh. I think I'm gonna see the kids soon, he blurted suddenly, as if much had crossed his mind in those few moments of silence. Part of why I left Crimson Dreams... so I can spend more time up this way, he added, peering tentatively at his golden relative. Faint lines of smoke poured from his mouth yet.


He considered leaving the implications of his statement unsaid — that visiting Anathema wasn't the only reason he wanted to stick further north. But given Inferni's odd relationship with wolves, he thought it better to be more explicit — if in a roundabout way. Gonna head down to the trading port, too, see what I can find. Maybe stop by to visit my folks on the way back. A pause. Then I'll swing by to see you again, eh? This might come as a surprise, but I think I'm a little out of practise, he grinned, referring to his distinct lack of grace during their play session. Might not hurt to get up to speed, right? It was a thinly veiled excuse to hang out more.


Barry's smile warmed briefly, but then he turned his attentions to a squirrel rustling about in the treetops. It darted around with unseen purpose and the wolf supposed he might finally be on track, too, if only for awhile. Another deep breath made his head spin. Life was good. Despite any uncertainties on the horizon, the future was looking brighter than it had only two weeks ago

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