When the lights fade out, all the sinners crawl

POSTED: Sun May 27, 2018 1:55 pm

Optime | Fundy National Park section of border; early morning (+815)

Scout thread for Co-Rank II.

Ragna’s found an intruder in MV territory, help her deal with the culprit, or, get in the way and try to make her be nice x3

The hour had been early that she had awoken to take the patrol. She had felt restless for whatever reason and unable to go back to sleep once she had been disturbed by something. It was not unusual for the ex-soldier, however, it was still inconvenient and annoying for her. Being a light sleeper was a curse during times of peace. Needless to say, the pre-dawn hour had made it so that her patrol was a lonely one. Glade would rise with the sun, and she didn’t feel like saddling up Brimstone for work.

Ragna had geared up with her usual ensemble; her vest, her pants, her bow and quiver, and her knives. Though she doubted she’d find much trouble at such an early hour, she was of the type to be safe rather than sorry, and knew all too well the tendencies of rogues. Opportunity made them bold, particularly if they thought they could get away with whatever wrong they sought to commit. And such was what the scout sought to prevent.

She headed east out of Winterwynd, slowly working her way south along the arching border line that was the Vale. Her pace was slow and steady as she moved along, zigzagging back and forth across the invisible border as she checked things. She searched for unfamiliar scents that might have lingered in the area too long, for footprints or other signs of an outsider either visiting too close or having trespassed. Thankfully, she didn’t find much in the way of troublesome Luperci, only lesser creatures that paid little mind to the canine marking system.

The sun had begun to rise on the distant horizon, its rays stretching lazily out across a pinkening sky. The shadows of the early morning hour were slowly chased back, allowing Ragna to see much more of the passing terrain as she patrolled it. It helped, as she no longer had to strain her senses to make sure nothing went past her unchecked. Even with the added edge of visibility though, she found precious little in the way of trouble to be found.

It was a good thing, as it meant the Vale was safe for the time being. With the pack still so young, it was for the better if they remained at peace with their neighbors, both Loner and pack alike. At least, long enough that they could get their bearings and get enough skilled fighters to defend themselves. As it currently was, Ragna could only recognize a few that might fare more than one or two assaults by an enemy group.

The Wolverthrone had been near the end of her gradual sweep when she, eventually, did find something amiss. The astride scent of blood reached her nostrils first, and the woman had drawn her bow into a low-ready position. Her general sweep of the border ceased immediately as she honed in on the scent, her icy gaze searching the area for trouble.

She crouched to the ground when she found some promising-looking evidence. Trampled flora and deep prints were left in the soft soil of the forest floor, likely left in the dark hours of the morning when the world was cooler and moistened with dew. Someone on four legs had passed through, as did a small deer judging by the looks of the tracks. Her eyes narrowed as she noticed their heading; deeper into Vale territory.

Frowning, Ragna stalked after the prints. For the intruder’s sake, she hoped they had left already, otherwise, they’d be in for a rude awakening when she found them. The trail led her a little ways, and, eventually, she found the trespasser sprawled out amongst the evidence of their crimes against the Vale.

It was a male in their Lupus form, a wolf hybrid of agouti hues. He looked to be of middle age, in his prime, and, thus, should have known full well than to trespass onto claimed territory. His stomach was fat and protruding from his early-morning meal, his lips and paws bloodied with the kill he had made on Mistfell Vale land. He slumbered deeply, passed out as his body digested the dead deer. He had eaten a good chunk of it too from the looks of things, a decent sized portion of the gut cavity missing.

Ragna came upon the male stealthily, her protective anger building within her as she harshly planted a foot onto the Loner’s throat and poised her arrowhead at his chest where his heart was. The action was enough to startle the wolf awake. His limbs flailed and his eyes snapped open, his pupils wild and darting every which way as his body tried to make sense of what was going on.

“What do you think you’re doing killing on Mistfell Vale land, outsider?” She demanded in a snarl.

Ragna Eklund

Mistfell Vale
Wolverthorne
User avatar
(Online)
Songbird
Luperci Scout I
Do not go gentle
into that good night

POSTED: Sun May 27, 2018 2:42 pm

Baelish D'Angelo

It's Ragna's turn || +4

Baelish was riding a high that he could not have possibly imagined he could have achieved. He really was good at what he did, and this proved it; a second horse for the Vale in just a month’s time.

Two days before, he had run into a loner, Mateo, and had managed to trade with him for this horse! He still could not believe his luck (and the other male’s stupidity) – but it was a completely legitimate trade, his favorite piece of porcelain for this palomino paint mare. The horse made the journey back to Mistfell Vale a breeze, even bareback. He really needed to get himself a steed sooner or later, but for now he was more than happy to build his good reputation in the pack by donating it to the communal stables.

Soon the now familiar to him scent of his new home became prevalent, and he cantered the mare (whom he had named Ghost Face due to her striking mask) over the invisible threshold. It was then that the acquainted smell mingled with blood, and he pulled the horse back into a slow walk. It was a fresh kill, somewhere nearby, but how strange that a member would just be eating it out here, instead of sharing it.

Baelish’s investigation was a short, as he came upon a scarred woman, one who smelled of the Vale, holding down a Lupus stranger and threatening him with the point of an arrow. Beyond, a partially eaten deer carcass; what had Baelish stumbled upon this time.

Fascinated, he brought Ghost Face to a stop a few yards from the two wolves, and then leaned forward over her withers and rested his chin on his hand; he gave a grin, Need some help there? He asked, knowing full well this female had everything under control, Is this son of a bitch trespassing on the Vale? Eating our food? He asked, and then sat back and clicked his tongue, You’ve made a grave mistake, friend. he said, addressing the vagrant, I wonder what she’s going to do to you. His grin turned somewhat sinister then.

He was curious just to see how this Mistwalker was going to handle the situation; would she send him on his way, or just kill him outright? What kind of pack was this, when it came to dealing with those who had slighted them. He supposed he was about to find out.

Mistfell Vale
Elkenfrey
User avatar
Nat
Luperci Negotiator I

POSTED: Sun Jun 10, 2018 6:25 pm

(+537)

It’s so weird writing an actively mean/aggressive character for something so mundane xD

“Wha—who are you? Let go of me!” The male yelp-snarled, continuing to squirm beneath her foot against his throat. The action only caused her to press harder and for her arrow head’s tip to dig warningly into his flesh for good measure.

“I asked you a question, outsider. Answer it,” she demanded, her voice dropping dangerously.

They were distracted then by the sound of a horse approaching, causing both to still and look in the direction of whoever approached. It was a young male, one of Saga’s brothers, if Ragna recalled correctly. He sat upon a stilled horse some distance away from them, and, it was evident from his rather comfortable position that he had no intentions to get down from his high vantage point any time soon. The sight irritated the ex-soldier. She was dealing with an obvious trespasser and thief, and the boy’s first reaction was to hold back rather than jump into the fray.

Something in the back of her mind reminded her that the boy was still young—less than a year from the looks of him—not to mention, not a soldier.

“Pretty sure I got it,” Ragna grunted, turning her icy gaze back to the trouble beneath her foot. “And, yes.”

The wolf hybrid glanced to the yearling, eyes desperate for the young teen to plea for his innocence. “Please! Make her let go of m—!”

Ragna snarled, silencing him. Answer my question, outsider! What are you doing stealing from the Vale?”

His ears flattened and tail tucked beneath him as he stilled, not doubt feeling the prick of her arrow tip against his chest. “I-I’m not stealing!”

She pressed harder onto the male’s throat, causing him to gasp and cough. “Are you sure that’s what your answer is going to be?”

He whimpered, and the quiver of his lips as he seemed to fight between wanting to snarl or cooperate was noticeable. “I…” He wheezed. “…found it outside of…” Another gasp for breath. “…your land—”

“You admit to willingly trespassing.” She lessened her pressure a bit, satisfied that he had admitted to one his wrongs.

The stranger let out a sputter. “I didn’t have any choi—“

“Your old enough to know what pack boundary lines mean,” she argued unsympathetically, “You could have easily turned back. Instead, you chose to kill on Vale territory, gorge yourself fat, and then have the audacity to take a nap on our land.” She bared her teeth.

She had to think of a way to punish—she was not so soft as some of her other packmates to consider letting the male get away scot-free—this trespasser, and, with the boy there now, killing the gluttonous outsider was no longer an easy decision. The man beneath her foot was feigning innocence though, and doing so poorly. He only acted the way he was because he had been caught red-handed. An acceptable punishment came to her then, and the Eklund looked back over to where the teenager sat upon his horse.

“Will you come help me hold him down?” For what she had in mind, she needed the trespasser to be under control.

Ragna Eklund

Mistfell Vale
Wolverthorne
User avatar
(Online)
Songbird
Luperci Scout I
Do not go gentle
into that good night

POSTED: Sun Jun 17, 2018 11:33 am

Baelish D'Angelo

OOC || +3

This scarred woman was a bit rough around the edges it seemed, and Baelish grin turned somewhat sideways. She really was laying into this trespasser, and he watched and she pressed her foot harder against the male’s throat as she interrogated him. The stranger was scared out of his mind, and even pleaded with Baelish to have her let him go. The young Crowstooth suddenly found himself feeling something he rarely did; discomfort .

The male insisted he did not steal, but that his prey was found outside the territory and that he had only finished the kill inside the boundaries. Still foolish, but Baelish could understand, especially if he had been desperate for food. The scarred woman however was not so forgiving, chiding him for continuing the chase onto their lands, and then feasting here. Baelish agreed with her, it was stupid, but the way she was acting… was she really going to kill this male for it?

His thoughts were interrupted when she addressed him, asking him to come help her hold the male down. Baelish’s ears flattened against his head; was she going to gut him or shoot him in the head, while Baelish helped? He suddenly felt sick to his stomach. But she was his superior, and he had to hope that what she was planning was not murder, so he dismounted. He crouched down and helped to hold the trespasser down, and could see the wild fear in the male’s eyes. He looked up at the scarred female, Maybe… Maybe there is a better option. He said.

He could think of a million different ways to end this without bloodshed, but he found himself holding his tongue instead. For once, he was completely unprepared, and unsure of what to do or say. He was no fighter, no killer… what was she going to do!?

Mistfell Vale
Elkenfrey
User avatar
Nat
Luperci Negotiator I

POSTED: Mon Jun 18, 2018 10:36 pm

(+682)

TL;DR: Ragna cut the guy’s front paw pads so he’d have trouble hunting in Lupus/Secui for a little while. She’s letting him go. We can probably end this in another round or two unless you have something else in mind? :O

Her icy gaze flashed back to the trespasser as she felt his muscles coil with energy. The man beneath her let out a distraught yelp, his teeth flashing as the words left her lips. She was prepared for his inevitable will to defend himself though, shifting her weight so that he could not escape from beneath her, digging the point of her arrow between his ribs. He was a thieving coward, she determined as his cries turned to a fearful whimper beneath her threatening pressure, no better than the Sctintilla coyotes she had left for crows’ food during her days with Boreas.

With her captive quieted, only then did Ragna glance back in the direction of the boy. She had seen the flash of hesitation in his facial features when she had requested his help. So much for that initial bravado he had had upon arriving onto the scene. Still, he dismounted, coming to aide his packmate even though it was clear in his actions that he was having second thoughts. It was this action alone that spared him. Reluctant as he was, he was willing to do what was needed, it seemed.

“Please! Help me! I beg of you, boy!” The wolf hybrid pleaded as the younger Mistwalker held him down.

When the D’Angelo spoke, Ragna couldn’t help but to scoff at him. She shifted her position, digging a knee into the Loner’s chest cavity while she put her bow down beside them. “Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet now that you’re getting your hands dirty?” She teased, though, while not cruel, it was not done kindly. Her words were spoken with baring a little bit of teeth, letting him know that she did not think highly of his suddenly vacant smug and arrogant attitude that he had had before.

Returning her arrow to her quiver, Ragna traded her bow and arrow for one of her knives. And, at its unsheathing, the Loner panicked, bucked and let out an ear-piercing, fearful yelp at the mere thought of what she intended with it. “Hold him,” Ragna directed, unbothered by the trespasser freaking out.

She reached for one of his flailing forepaws, forcing it back and bringing it to herself. She swung the knee she had planted on the Loner’s chest so that she practically straddled his forelegs, trapping them between her thighs. Squeezing, she managed to hold them still enough amidst his screaming and flailing and to do her work. In one sharp motion, she dragged the tip of her blade into his main paw pad, cutting deep enough that crimson sprung up from the divide in the black pad in an instant.

It was, finally, at this, that the Loner, truly, had something to cry about. He let up quite a ruckus, fighting against the boy that held him and trying desperately to keep his limbs out of the scarred female’s grasp. Much like she had caught the first though, she managed to obtain control of the second, creating a similar, deep cut across the main pad of both of his forepaws.

Ragna turned around then, moving and crouching by the wolf’s head. A hand snatched the male’s maw and clamped it closed, ceasing the ungodly racket that came from it. With her knife, she pressed it into the thick furs of his neck as she leaned in close. “You’re a waste of good air, you know that?” She sneered. Sitting back, she looked up at the boy, a jerk of her head wordlessly telling him that he would be free of the task she had assigned to him.

“We’re going to release you now. Don’t get any ideas. Get your cowardly ass out of Vale territory.” Only once she was sure that the D’Angelo teen was out of harm’s way did Ragna remove herself from the intruder, her knife still drawn and her stance ready to defend against a Lupus fighter or attack him should he decide to go after the younger Mistwalker.

Ragna Eklund

Mistfell Vale
Wolverthorne
User avatar
(Online)
Songbird
Luperci Scout I
Do not go gentle
into that good night

POSTED: Tue Jun 26, 2018 12:32 pm

Baelish D'Angelo

Up to you, you can just have her scoff and leave, or ask him what he would have done, I dunno XD || +2

When the woman suggested Baelish was chicken, he shot her an unveiled angry and disgusted glance. He was no coward, at least, not completely; he just had different ways of accomplishing things, ways that didn’t involve undue bloodshed.

But bloodshed was definitely what she had in mind, and with two quick pulls of the knife the loners paw pads were cut. Not deep enough to cause damage that would leave him lame, but enough so that he would be forced to shift and wrap his hands for some time. Baelish, his brow still furrowed with stress, let out a bit of a sigh as she released him, and the poor son of a bitch went limping as fast as he could towards the borders, leaving bloody paw-prints in his wake.

Baelish stood and shook himself a bit, and then crossed his arms, watching the male go until he was gone completely, and then turned to the woman, Crude, but effective I suppose. He said coolly, You know there may have been a better way to get the point across, one that would have been more lucrative. He stretched then, ridding himself from the stiffness in his muscles, and then relaxed back into his nonchalant stance, his grin slowly returning, he reached out a paw to the woman, who still held the knife, Baelish D’Angelo. And you are? He grinned, but his eyes were harsh. He could not show weakness now, he already had shown her too much. But he understood now what the muscle of the Vale looked and acted like; not killers, just not the sharpest tools in the shed. He’d have to get on her good side, one way or another.

Mistfell Vale
Elkenfrey
User avatar
Nat
Luperci Negotiator I

POSTED: Fri Jul 13, 2018 10:38 pm

Optime (+515)


The boy didn’t look at all amused by her insinuation of his cowardice when it came to actually doing something rather than jeering from afar. He wasn’t the first and he certainly wouldn’t be the last to cast such a look her way though. A dog that only barked from afar was not one to be taken seriously in her eyes. This world outside of Boreas and its teachings and making men out of boys, it took a lot more of her patience than she cared for.

When she released the wolf, the Loner wasted little time in doing what was ordered of him. He limped away, obvious pain in each step as he had to put weight upon his forepaws. The stranger seemed too concerned with getting away or too fearful of the Mistwalkers to consider shifting up…if he was even capable of such. His plight though, it was a light sentence compared to what a crueler soldier of Boreas might have given him, particularly, if he was a coyote. Her icy gaze did not leave the Loner’s retreating body until it had fully moved out of her sight.

She made mental note to track the Loner later just in case.

It seemed the teenager was wary enough to wait until the outsider left or was merely polite enough to let her make sure the threat was gone before he spoke again. Ragna’s eyes shifted to him, annoyed at how he tried to play it cool now that the Loner was gone. “More lucrative?” She scoffed, a cruel smile spreading across her lips. “I supposed I could have made a nice fur coat out of him. My horse could have had some warm padding between him and his saddle in the winter months. No better way to get a point across to other Loners than seeing a dead one.” She wasn’t serious…or maybe she was?

Ragna flicked the few droplets of blood from her blade. She looked around them. Finding a broad leaf, she plucked it and used it to wipe off the excess blood from the metal. When she returned to Winterwynd later, she would be sure to properly clean the knife. “I thought hindering the glutton was more in line with what Felix would have wanted rather than killing someone. He’ll still live, though, for how long or to what quality, only Nature knows.”

To his outstretched hand, she looked at it before looking up at his vibrant orange eyes. He introduced himself as Baelish, and the scout was sure to note this and put his face to memory. Saga had two brothers, and they both looked quite similar, unlike their sister who looked altogether unrelated to them. After a beat, she decided to accept his handshake, her grip firm. “Ragna Eklund.”

She released him, looking over her blade with disinterest. “What would you have done with a fat, sniveling slob of a thief with nothing more than the fur on his back and a mental capacity that breaks under the slightest pressure?”

Ragna Eklund

Mistfell Vale
Wolverthorne
User avatar
(Online)
Songbird
Luperci Scout I
Do not go gentle
into that good night

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