Trees. How he loved them so. Red Sol ran his paw over the bark of the nearest tree, a pine tree. The male sighed happily and scrambled up the tree, pieces of bark falling behind him. He rose from the forest floor, feeling something like exhilaration. Climbing up trees was as close as he felt he could get to flying. The wolf got a foothold in a crevasse between a strong branch and the main trunk, steadying himself with the other foot. Sol grabbed hold of a branch with one hand and leaned dangerously away from the trunk, the other hand dangling at his side. He could see a bit of the surrounding country from his perch; mostly it was trees and mountain. Still, he wasn’t used to being around so many pines. The mountain air was refreshing.
Red smiled to himself and climbed back down the tree. He did so much climbing that his paws and pads were rough, climbing didn’t hurt at all. The hybrid landed on the forest floor that was made of pine-needles. They were mostly green pine-needles and thus didn’t prick his feet that much. He strolled confidently through the trees, blue-gray mane following behind him like a flag. Using one hand he brushed the braided strand of hair that had been across his face to behind one ear. Sometimes it would poke him in the eye, so he usually moved it there when he was running or doing something that required his attention. The wolf-coyote creature took another deep breath and began to hum to himself, hands swinging by his side, completely care-free. He looked around briefly, remembering the strange scents he had picked up, but didn’t give much thought to anyone else being around. Most of this area was rather deserted.
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There we go, I'm hoping I set it up so that things can unravel the way we wanted them to. He can either still not fully register that Skoll has the right to throw him out, or maybe he feels threatened and his first instinct is to fight rather than to run. Whatever is good, I'm just throwing ideas out there =P
The warrior-wolf had seen the trespasser from some ways off, having taken up vigil at a high vantage point on the mountain side. He was the protector of the pack, and while he knew that most situations wouldn't warrant violence, it was still his duty to maintain a someone daunting presence on the border. The canine wasn't hurting anyone, and given his movements, he seemed to have crossed into their land by accident. Still, borders existed for a reason, and though there was a gray area between where the pack land ended and neutral territory began--no alpha peed a solid circle around their territory, after all--it was still important that he enforce it.
Descending the mountain hastily, the formidable golden form of the warrior broke through the brush several meters away from the newcomer, though he had made enough noise coming down that it was no surprise when he appeared. He had hoped that the noise alone would be enough to send the intruder on his way, but he was disappointed to find him not having moved from where he'd last seen him. He began to advance. He would be perfectly cordial to outsiders standing outside their border, or even those who had encroached a little into the gray area, but some degree of humility or fearful respect should be shown when a stranger walked fully within a pack's border, and this wolf did not display these emotions.
"You are on claimed lands!" the bronze wolf said, advancing on the smaller canine. "Get out." His voice rang with cold authority. He didn't stop his approach.
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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[html]  Out of character: sry for the lateness.
In Character
Red turned sharply as he heard an approach from behind, but he didn’t run anywhere. At least, not yet. He pulled out the dagger from his pouch and waited, though he didn’t have long. ”Maldición God!” The wolf exclaimed as a giant came forth from the brush. He wasn’t exaggerating either. The Luperci before him was massive, and well muscled. Red Sol crouched and held his dagger at the ready, though he was pretty sure that his little knife wouldn’t do anything at all.
”Tomadas? Yo no recall this territorio being tomador.” He backed up slightly, trying to stay far enough away from the other wolf so that he could still use his dagger as a throwing weapon. There was no way that he could defend himself against this wolf if he got in close. He puffed up his fur and laid back his ears, though didn’t do anything like snarling. The other male could no doubt smell that he was afraid, and that he was part coyote. Of course, Red didn’t see anything wrong with being a coyote, as he didn’t know about the big deal involving the wolf-hating Inferni. ”Tú back, stay!”
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It's all good.
Skoll pulled the leather strap holding his shield to the deerskin hide around his waist, and the simple knot holding it together loosed, allowing it to come free in his hands. His amber eyes roamed over the smaller wolf that had walked so boldly into the Shadowed Sun territory. The intruder bore a knife no less, and held it in such a way that it was clear he was ready to use it. As he measured him up, Skoll deftly secured the pitted wooden plank to his left forearm, secured by one pre-tied knot and two leather straps gripped in his hand. His right hand fell back to the axe-handle jutting from his pack.
"This is Shadowed Sun territory, and I have authority to drive you off of it. Drop your weapon immediately, or turn tail. If you don't comply to one of these demands immediately, I will engage." Skoll had been through many battles, and so he saw many things in the prelude to a fight. The way the hybrid held his weapon implied its use as a throwing tool. Projectile weaponry. He hated ranged weapons; not only did he have little defense against them barring his shield, but he felt it was an honorless way to fight someone.
The fact that the intruder was a coyote wouldn't have meant anything to Skoll outside of the culture of Bleeding Souls. He had never had anything against coyotes in particular, and had fought alongside several in the War of Shadows. Race would be a non-issue, if Inferni weren't so close. As things stood, this situation reminded him of his recent encounter with Andre. The Lykoi clan couldn't control its children, and it seemed to always fail to teach them any common sense. This creature didn't look like one of them, but if he was raised in the same environment, his behavior might be the same. In the end, it wasn't the Lykoi blood that mattered, but the ideals to which they had attached themselves.
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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Red could hear the large wolf booming out some sort of command, and Red could probably guess what he wanted. But still, he hesitated. On one paw, he wanted to run and scurry up some tree and hide. Only problem with that was these were pine trees. If he did get up in one, the branches were generally too weak for him to jump from tree to tree; thus making escape after that almost impossible. On the other paw, though, he didn’t know if this wolf could easily catch up with him and cut him down. If the other caught up to Sol, he would be finished.
So, the coyote-wolf hybrid simply stood staring at the golden wolf before him. He still held his dagger and was jerking slightly, as if he wanted to move but couldn’t. Red licked his long canine nervously and swallowed the panic rising up his throat. He said nothing, but an almost commanding thought went through his head. ’Your move.’
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Move made =P
The mutt remained standing where he had been, frozen in position, possibly a mixture of fear and defiance or pride, conflicting commands sent to his body both to run and to stand resolute. Still, the bronze wolf had given him fair warning, and had given his word that not running or disarming would mean violence. So, it would. The intruder didn't seem like he necessarily wanted a fight--who could blame him, he barely came up to Skoll's chest in height--but he didn't want to give ground and leave Shadowed Sun lands either. Compromise, then. Skoll's right hand passed up the handle of his most brutal weapon, the lumber axe, and dug deeper into his pack, withdrawing the long dagger that he'd won from the female cultist two Septembers ago, the one he'd liberated from his own chest once upon a time.
He didn't over-extend himself when he made his move. There was no exaggerated leap to mark the beginning of the fight. He simply readied his shield and adjusted his grip on the knife, and closed at a brisk walk. Depending on the experience of this opponent, he might have been able to make due with no battle-gear at all, but it was impossible to tell how fast or talented he was with a blade. It was better not to take the risk, and it was easier to defend unarmed than to attack a defensive knife-user anyway. Leading with his shield arm, he held the knife slightly back at his right. When the younger wolf attacked, he would intercept or at least deflect or redirect it with his shield, and come in with his right hand.
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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[html] lol, that didn't work. Sorry he just kinda zoomed everywhere, you can take a chop or slice at him if you wish.
Red panicked as the huge gold wolf closed the distance between them quickly. He leapt back in surprise and did the stupidest thing he could have done with his dagger; he took a blind shot. His knife missed the wolf, though maybe only by six inches, and buried itself into a tree trunk a few feet behind the other wolf. However, Red had more pressing issues as the large canine was suddenly on top of him. The hybrid ducked and tried to dodge, moving quickly away from the large wolf or at least as quickly as he could. Red probably wasn’t fast enough to avoid all injury when he did this, and the larger wolf could get a few good hits on Red, depending on his attackers swiftness. He used his small size to move around brush and trees which he hoped would prove cover if the other was attacking him. Red was moving towards the tree where his dagger was.
Sol desperately tried to dislodge the knife, but it was stuck to far in the tree. He could get it out if he wasn’t being attacked by the other. So Red fell back on basic instinct and took flight over fight and scrambled up the tree in a squirrel like fashion. Only when he was up as far as he could go, which wasn’t very far seeing as it was a small tree and had weak top limbs, did he look down again.
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Nah, we'll leave everybody unharmed for now =P
Skoll rose his shield as the diminutive wolf began his throw, and released the blade. As the steel sailed over his head, the warrior pressed forward, but slowed down as he began reading the smaller canine's reactions. He was frightened, running frantically, full of scared energy as he darted with impressive speed around their makeshift battle ground...if it could be called that, given this sad display. Following him closely, Skoll drove him up a tree. Though neither of them had been touched, the battle was over. Skoll sighed.
"What are you doing here?" He called the short distance up the tree, pulling the intruder's knife out of the tree and putting it in his bag for the time being. "This is claimed territory, you have no right to be here. What's your business?!" He growled up, more irritated than full out angry. The throw had been a bad one, but he'd still intended to do harm to Skoll within his own home. He wasn't slow, if he'd been angry or continued under the impression that this hybrid might have been from Inferni, he could have damaged him severely. Still, it was hard to see the running around he just had and to feel threatened. Not to mention the immense size difference.
"You don't have to come down yet if you don't want to, but I want to hear what you came here for." His hackles were falling back in place as he stood there, looking up awkwardly, talking to a tree.
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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Red bit his lip when he saw the larger wolf take his dagger. He had very few things when it came to material possessions, and his dagger was by far his most precious. Really, it was his fault, for making such a bad throw. Somehow, the situation reminded him of when he had once chased a squirrel up a tree. The tiny beast had hung from a branch and chattered at him angrily. Sol half felt like doing the same, but he wasn’t exactly a squirrel.
”Yo come, yo miro. This place no claim before.” Red had guessed by this point that the other understood very little of his normal speak, so he tried to limit it to English phrases and words. The one thing Red didn’t understand was why everyone seemed to think that this was their territory. Or, at least this wolf did. Sol had been this way not a month or so before and there hadn’t been anyone here. Wolves didn’t come from trees, so where had this pack come from?
”Yo come, make round, miro. Yo come check tree. Tú, ¿De donde eres? Come from place?” Red pointed whenever he said ‘tú’ or ‘yo’ at the large wolf and himself respectively, but he still wasn’t sure if the other understood his questions, or his answers. ’This is very frustrating.’ Red came down a few branches, so that the other could see him better. The hybrid placed a hand on his chest. ”Red Sol”
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A little short, but I feel like we're on a roll, wanted to get it out pronto.
Skoll couldn't understand half of what the wolf was saying, though he gleaned the idea that he hadn't known it was claimed territory, and that he didn't know because Shadowed Sun hadn't been here for very long. Quite an embarrassing situation...there had been some kind of language barrier that had been preventing the little guy from understanding his questions easily. Likewise, Skoll had marched in with an appearance that seemed to suggest menace--not something he could help with his life story practically etched in scars into his skin--which hadn't made the other very willing to talk anyway. He was glad he hadn't hurt him.
"Skoll," he said, indicating himself with his right hand, his left still bearing the small shield from before. He'd probably end up giving the knife back before long, so it was best that he not put everything away just yet. "Do you speak common speech? English?" English wasn't a word he had grown up associating with his language, but had learned it through a foreigner along his travels. After all...to him it was just common, everyone who didn't speak it was foreign, his language was the norm.
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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[html] Indeed. Last one from me tonight, need sleep.
Red saw some of the anger go away from the larger wolf. Maybe his fur had relaxed? Anyway, the danger seemed to have mostly passed, for the time being. He descended until he was about a few feet above, this way they wouldn’t have to shout as much. It seemed to him that they had managed to get over some sort of gap by exchanging names. Maybe this was how the first people had been when they encountered another tribe. Red steadied himself and sat on the branch, his feet dangling in the air. He was still being careful though, unless this wolf could also climb, Sol was pretty sure he was out of Skoll’s reach.
”Yo hablo English, some. Pequeño.” Red made a gesture with one hand to show ‘small’ or ‘little’ as he said the last word slowly. Sol made a mental note to try and speak more English. He went back to a question that the other hadn’t understood. He motioned to the area around them with one hand. ”Te place now. Come from where? Before place now?”
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Hm...we'll need to find a way to take this from uneasy conversation to fight training.
"Ah," Skoll understood him better this time around. He pointed up the mountain. "Over the mountain, in the valley called Bleeding Souls. Many wolves crossed over recently." He indicated the land away from the mountain, out beyond Shadowed Sun. "Many packs live on this side, now." He hadn't smelled any kind of strong wolf presence when they had first made their exodus, but it stood to reason that a few loners had made their homes out here.
"What were you doing with the knife? There is a group of coyotes and coyote hybrids not far from here with a reputation murder, I mistook you for one of them at first. Sorry for that." He took several steps back from the tree, allowing him to leave it if he was so inclined. He wouldn't give the knife back until he was outside of Shadowed Sun, though...no one had any business carrying them into someone else's land in the first place.
He had done so once, into stolen land to tell the coyote queen to keep small children on the interior of her land; the clan she was running was going to be one with enemies, and it was obvious that she and hers lacked the ability to keep them safe from some of those they had made enemies of. At that point, though, she and her lackeys had been drunk with righteous anger, they had absolved themselves of all guilt in the situation, and simply mocked or screamed hatred at him, brandishing weapons of their own against the solitary form of the battered wolf, axe in hand. Apparently he had made enough of an impression on them before that they hadn't wanted to chance a fight when he was armed.
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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[html] Hmm, tried to turn the conversation in that direction.
Red nodded and looked over in the direction that Skoll had motioned. So a bunch of strange wolves had come from across the mountains into his forests. They weren’t really his forests, it wasn’t like he owned them, but Red sort of thought of himself as their protector. Red always felt like trees were beings, creatures almost like squirrels and wolves. They were different from rocks. Sol could swear that the trees understood what was happening around them, that they were sentient.
Red perked his ears up at the mention of his dagger. However, his face changed to slight confusion and then something like disapproval. ”Yo tengo knife siempre. Yo find knife en,” Red stopped suddenly and twisted his face up like he usually does when he is thinking hard. He tried to convey the idea of the ‘house’ to Skoll, because he didn’t know what they were called. ”Yo find en mucho trees, all bent juntas. Trees together, dead tree.” Red tried drawing the box-like outline of a house and made a roof with his hands. He blinked his hazel eyes a few times before continuing.
”It shame be blame for kill porque kin. Not all coyote es mala.” Red was serious now, and kind of sad. It was a shame to be blamed for murder just because of your species. Not all individuals in a species were the same, were they? Sol perked his ears again, then flattened them in embarrassment. ”Yo soy sorry for tiro knife. Yo soy mala shot anyway. Need practice more. Yo tengo for protect against rogues. Yo mostly corro, Red go away quick en tree.” He seemed sad for a bit, then perked up again, cocking his head slightly. ”If yo like Skoll, I no worry about mala wolf o mala coyote. ¡Tú make ellos muy nervoso! “ Red laughed at his own joke.
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Is there a difference between the yellow text in quotations and the non-yellow text in quotations?
The language barrier would be difficult to overcome. Many words that were uttered were completely indiscernible to Skoll, and for all he knew, it might be true the other way around, as well. He didn't understand the nimble canine's first sentence, and while he got the impression of the house, he didn't know for sure what Red Sol was saying about it. It took a moment for him to begin decoding what was being said. He shook his head.
"So, you found the knife in a human house. And I don't blame you for the murders, I just have to be careful around people who might belong to Inferni." Generalizations weren't ideal, but they were necessary. Mala must mean bad, if Skoll was correctly deciphering the context around the word. Red Sol was repeating some words over and over, perhaps in an attempt to help the larger, unilingual wolf understand him.
"If you...were like me, no worrying about bad wolves and coyotes?" As soon as he said it, he smiled slightly. "I worry about mala wolves and coyotes a lot, for my pack." He gestured at the territory behind him. He wasn't sure if he would be understood. "I defend others from mala wolves and coyotes."
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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[html] Only the stuffies in yellow is what Red says. sry. o-o
It frustrated Red that his language frustrated Skoll. He almost felt bad for them not being able to understand each other very well. Still, there wasn’t a whole lot he could do about it, unless someone taught him better ‘just-English’. ”Sí, human make house, Red find knife en house.” He only understood half of what Skoll said then, something about the Inferni and blaming for murders. It sounds somewhat like an apology, not an accusation, so Red took a guess and nodded.
He perked his ears up and listened carefully to what Skoll was saying, it seemed that they were trying to understand each other better now. The larger male had used one of Red’s words, ‘mala’, and in the right context. Something about his ‘pack’, maybe that meant his land? ”Protect this place from mala coyote y wolf? ¿Como ‘pack’?”
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"Right," Skoll said, indicating general affirmation that they had a loose understanding. "I protect this place, because my pack lives here. Other wolves, my friends, my family." He didn't have any blood relations...not in this part of the world, at least. He supposed that SnowOwl and Skirnir were still alive, maybe even his parents, but he didn't think he would ever see them again. He wouldn't have anything to say to them, anyway.
"You say that rogues have been bothering you? I wasn't aware that there was a problem with loners out here...though I should have guessed." There had been plenty of fighting for him back in Storm, though the wolves were not fighters of the same sort that he'd found elsewhere during his travels. It followed that in a place without established powers, without blocks of land claimed by influential groups, free-agents would cause more trouble and hold more sway. After all, out on the barren tundra he had been able to roam and fight freely, developing the reputation which had eventually created an opportunity for him to meet the warrior whose training would change his life forever.
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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The hybrid nodded at Skoll’s words, his face brightened. So, this ‘pack’ was of other wolves, his family. The concept of a bunch of wolves living together was a bit beyond Red, who had lived the past few months alone and wasn’t able to remember anything before that. In a way, both Red and Skoll were similar in that manner. They were both pretty much loners.
Red nodded at Skoll. ”Sí, mala wolf come. Ellos attack Red cuando para dormir.” Red placed his hands next to his head as if he were sleeping on them. ”But now, Red safer. Yo duermo en tree, tree leaves hide me.” If he had had his cloak right then, he would have pulled it out. It really was ingenious, just a regular old sheet or something with leaves worked into the fabric. He covered himself with it when he slept, but there wasn’t enough room in his bag for it.
”Yo tengo problem con rogues, though. Yo no miro any recently.”
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There we go, sorry I was slow to get to the lead-in for teaching.
Skoll really was a loner, if he took a moment to think about it. He had lived with other wolves for most of his life now, but he had always lived apart from them even while he resided within the pack. He positioned himself at their border, a barrier between them and their enemies. His duties consumed all...he had been here for over three years, he should have had many more and better friends than he did. Still...perhaps that just wasn't how he worked...or maybe he was too different from those who lived here. He was a warrior with a strict professionalism...that was a dominating force in his life, and it was easier for him to connect with those of similar mind.
So, Red had survived by hiding in the trees. An unusual solution, but he had no doubt it was an effective one. Wolves weren't typically tree climbers, and those looking for trouble wouldn't generally think to be searching the canopy for a victim. Red also seemed to imply that there hadn't been any more recently...almost certainly due to the sudden encroachment of so many massive groups of wolves. He pulled the knife back out and studied it.
"You should never throw your only weapon," he said after a moment of contemplation. "Then you can't defend yourself, and they have your weapon." He hated projectile weapons, though throwing one of two axes (awkwardly, lumber axes weren't designed to be thrown) he'd owned long ago had helped him kill Phrexus, the fire-breather. Still, the advice was sound. Red Sol probably had figured that out already, though. After all, he'd just scrambled up a tree for dear life after having lost his weapon.
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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[html] That's okay, I am enjoying our thread. ^^
Red smiled at Skoll’s reply, and he had to agree with the larger wolf there. It had been rather stupid of him to throw his knife and have no back-up plan. But then again, he had panicked. And the dagger wouldn’t have done him any good used as a melee weapon; Red was by far outweighed by Skoll. Even though people like the Romans considered fighting from range to be dishonorable, they had to admit it did have its advantages. Sol smiled again at Skoll, his face partially hided by the umbrage.
”I don’t usually miss.” Other than a slight bit of accent, he spoke this in almost perfect English. He had picked up that ‘I’ and ‘Yo’ meant approximately the same thing during their conversation. Still, Red was mostly speaking the truth, not just boasting his own skill. Being alone in a forest for 3 months with nothing to do but practice throwing your dagger day after day, Red had had a bit of practice with his weapon. Red frowned slightly, because there was one other problem with Skoll’s advice. ”Yo no tengo otro. No otro knife.” Red pointed at the knife then made the ‘absolutly not’ motion with his hands.
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Likewise =)
Skoll didn't know what Red Sol had said at the end, though when he did speak English, Skoll had no trouble understanding him. Looking down at the knife, he contemplated tossing it up to the tree-climbing wolf, but thought better of it. After all, if it hit a branch on the way up, for Red failed to catch it, he would have a tumbling, sharp object coming down onto his head.
"Come on down, I'll escort you out of the territory and we can talk on the way." He backed away from the tree to give the diminutive wolf space to jump or climb down. Now that he thought on it, he couldn't return the knife yet. It belonged to Red Sol, but Skoll couldn't arm an intruder within Shadowed Sun, regardless of how well-meaning he now seemed. "I've seen wolves who used throwing blades before, but they always carried several. The last one carried six." It wasn't a common weapon to be found. He didn't actually know the technique to throwing one, as he disdained thrown weapons. He didn't like throwing his axe, but Phrexus met everyone who faced him head-on with a plume of flame that burnt the fur and seared the flesh. He only had to see one of his disfigured victims to know that he wasn't going to allow himself to suffer the same fate.
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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