Humans must have been odd creatures, taking sap from trees like ticks take blood from the body. Cicatrice didn't get it. She wasn't against human technology, or those who wore clothes or had piercings, she just didn't choose to herself. She remained alone. There were many reasons for this, not the least of which was her uncertainty about being back in a pack when the last she had been in was when she was a mere 5 months old. Then the coyotes had come, slaughtering her littermates and attacking herself and her brother. They had taken her away, and she did not know of her brother's fate. Had he survived? He certainly hadn't been taken captive as she had. Cicatrice, "scar" it meant, according to the coyotes who had given her many scars. It was the only name she new, she didn't remember her name from before, her mind having long closed that door and locked it tight. They had beaten her until she'd learned, to watch them, to study their fighting tactics, and then she's fought back, and kept fighting.
Cicatrice had seen wolves during the year of her captivity, but they'd fought with the captors, and had won often enough so that her captors would drive her away from them before they got too close. Her escape had required the blood of the captors, and no little planning for her. Coyotes were not stupid. Cruel and savage they may be, but they were cunning too. She'd killed to escape, killed adults, which for her was a real triumph. Born a Luperci, her parents had rarely shifted, even though they'd had the ability. The captors had also been shifters, and they'd used it to the fullest. She'd learned its true value from them, ironically enough.
In her Secui form, she moved along one of the trails through the maple trees down to a stream she'd found. Light splintered down in golden rays through the trees and danced on the water. It would be dark soon, as the forest was well grown here. The she wolf thought momentarily of the Inferni the hybrid she'd met days earlier had mentioned. She was relatively close to their territory, but not close enough she thought to worry about crossing it. Not that she minded coy borders particularly, she certainly didn't respect them as she might Wolf borders, but she didn't feel like screwing around with any right now, not until she had a better idea of their numbers and the local pack dynamics. Sighing, the large scarred female flopped down at the base of a large tree. No point in leaving one's back exposed, now was there?
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indent It had been a few days since Andre’s death, and Gabriel still felt nothing. The kill had been justified, and the kill had been right, but the fact of the matter was that his half-brother was laughing at them even as he fell. Even though he was dead, that didn’t change what he had done to Talitha. That was something that would haunt the girl for the rest of her life, and he hated them, those wolves, for letting it happen. Shaking dust from his coat with a huff, the hybrid made his way along the forest trails.
indent Haku had not shown his face in weeks, and that bothered him. He did not trust any wolf, save Fatin and perhaps his father, but that was part of a well grounded psychological affliction. Flicking one ear back, he spared a glance towards a flittering bird (not Marlowe, who was doing his job) and then caught an unfamiliar scent. It was a wolf, and one that did not belong to any pack. Lifting his head and advancing further, he soon spotted the female, though said nothing as he neared. They were still out of comfortable speaking range, and he didn’t care to shout at some stranger.
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Inferni. She'd recognized the scent on the male before she saw him. He was older than she, but not by too much. Silver eyes gleamed in the shadows of the trees as she watched him. He was definitely part coyote at least. The large, scarred she wolf simply raised her head, and looked at him. Her posture and demeanor spoke of mild interest, though she was in actuality focused on the male who came from a territory guarded by the heads of its inhabitant's enemies. Some of the heads, she'd noticed, were wolves. This didn't bother her overmuch in regard to her own safety. It simply reinforced her opinion of the killers. She wondered what this male would do. She wasn't on his land, or very near to it, for that matter, and she did not fear a fight. She had not had the backing of a pack for most of her life and could take care of herself quite well if it became necessary.
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indent He saw the look in her eyes. It was a subtle thing, something she had learned to hide. Of course, it was there all the same—and he knew what that look was. That was why he stopped in his tracks, eyes darkening just a hair. So many others had given him that look, even before he had begun to resemble a dog more then a coyote. Those men (and women and children, he supposed) had gone up in flames. California was a hot-spot, and the brushfire had been fast spreading, indiscriminate. That was why he had gone to the sea, to watch the cities burn. God’s Will was undeniable, and he had set Gabriel to burn.
indent In the end the burning was great. He remained still, watching her, defensive as a man in his position had learned to be.
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The hybrid stopped and seemed to draw in on himself, a subtle defense mechanism. The dialating of pupils the tensing of muscle. An interesting reaction all in all. She didn't thhink he was actually afraid of her, though that would be something. Inwardly she considered and evaluated, outwardly her cool demeanor remained unchanged. Around them the forest continued its subtle turn into twilight. This land didn't belong to anyone, so she had as much right to be here as the hybrid did.
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indent There was no fear. There was simply reservation, thinking. She was not a part of Dahlia, and that at least meant she was not a political issue. He could do as he had to if it came down to that. Both of his ears went forward, and his hackles rose slightly. Whatever else he was, Gabriel was dominant, and having that disrespected by anyone was a challenge. A subtle, unreal one, but a challenge none-the-less. His eyes remained vicious and hot, as they always were, and his tail rose. They didn’t have to speak. You have a problem? was written all over his body, as it was with hers.
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OC: Nice post! <3 I should add here that I don't have any particular injuries in mind. Cicatrice doesn't hold significance for a given injury like some people. I'd rahther keep her facial scars as they are (so I don't have to rethink them for avs, lol) and I don't want her killed or crippled, though considering she and Gabe would probably be fairly matched. Not sure though. Cica can inflict any injury you want if you want that, or if not we can have them evenly matched or somethingg... Whee long oc part, sorry! XD
OC:
Ah, there it was, that flash of dominance. Silver eyes watched it come in the form of raised fur and darkened eyes. Dominance was all well and good, on one's own land. This however, was unclaimed territory, which, in the mind of Cicatrice, made this hybrid no more or less dominant than she. While his eyes were gleaming hot, hers were cold as ice. Her own ears flicked up, and the white fur along her spine rippled. She was no pup who would cower to a coyote. For this one was such in her mind, simply by acting as he was. She tilted her head at his unspoken challenge as she flexed her paws, almost in an unconcerned fashion before rising smoothly to her feet, keeping her head level so as not to expose her throat or other vitals. She was no stranger to the fang, claw, or pain. Evening breeze shifted, playing over the large she wolf's pelt of silver, black, and white, hiding and then revealing the numerous scars that attested to past battles. She'd fought her share of hybrids before, and she was quite certain this male had fought, and likely killed many a wolf. She wouldn't be added to the number.
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Blah, I thought it was crap, but thank you! I'll let you pick the scars however you want, since I tend to leave that open. I figure we can have them have a draw, and go at it for a little before both backing off?
indent Neutral lands or not, the issue was now one of biological, canine instinct and nothing more. She was larger then he was (as he was still in his Lupus form), but he had the speed advantage. She was the ice to his fire, and her gray and white was contrasted by his gold and red. The scar on his face was caused by a wolf, and her own by coyotes. They were misplaced opposites and that was why, in some way, this was inevitable. Lowering his head and waiting for an unseen signal, Gabriel suddenly rushed forward, and snapped at her, jumping to the side just as quickly.
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OC: Sorry for the wait, one of my professors died on Sunday, and this week has been... tough (its a reatly small university) Amyway... Forgive me if this sucks 
IC:
Cicatrice believed in playing fair, well, mostly, she mentally corrected herself. Seeing the male stay in Lupus, or Latrans, in his case, she began the shift herself. Fighting in different forms was generally a bit awkward, so she accomidated and shifted to her own form. Not much about her changed, other than muscularity and some anatomy. In the time it took her to change forms, the male rushed her.
Silver eyes watched, evaluated as his teeth raked the thick fur on her side. Fortunately, it was thickening for the onset of winter. He was quick wen he darted aside. Many of his kind were not so. She lunged, twisting back on herself to snap at his legs, coming in low.
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indent The fact she elected to lower her only advantage meant she was either foolhardy or believed in some noble pretense that would serve her little here. Gabriel would not kill her, that much he knew. He would not break his moral code, but the challenge had been unavoidable. Like the men who had driven their countries headfirst into the Great War, this could not have been changed. Remarkably, he felt nothing.
indent Her teeth grazed his legs, taking fur, and he pulled them back. Pivoting on his hind legs he dove for her flank, pinning his ears against his head.
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He was fast, as all of his kin were, fast and agile, though not quite as agile as he would have been were he a full blooded coyote. She grazed his legs, flicked away the fur that had come with them. Hybrids were a tricky lot, there hadn't been any in her captors' clan, they consdered hybrids to be vermin of the worst sort. It depended on the attitude for her. If they sided with coyotes, they were just as bad as them, but if they sided with wolves, well, she was more open minded. The she wolf evaluated even as the male dove for her flank agan. Considering, she used her weight and went with his motion, she swung her weight into his pivoting hind legs as his fangs, diverted by her movement, hit the thick fur at her upper foreleg. Cicatrice looked back at him and lunged for his hind legs in an attempt to unbalance him.
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indent The fact she was a wolf was a fact that was irrelevant. Had she been a coyote, he would have done the same. His hatred for her kin, his own kin thanks to his father, was something he only used when needed. Gabriel spat out fur and felt her move. For her size, the wolf had weight on him and thus managed to accomplish what she was aiming for. As she went for his hind legs he stumbled, hit the ground, and kicked up with his own feet. It would catch her under the chest or belly, and had her momentum led her forward, his forelegs were pivoting wildly, teeth snapping. As soon as his hind feet connected with something, he brought them down and began scrambling to roll over and get back on all fours.
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(sorry for the short crappyness, I'm in the middle of studying and stuff)
A snarl rippled from her throat, vivid and feral as the male fell to her move. This move had worked before, which was why she'd used it this time. It was usually followed with a swift bite to the throat or belly, depending on how much pain she wanted to inflict. She used a foreleg to ward off his flailing limbs, though she did get hit a glancing blow. Grunting in irritation, she snapped downward, using her weight to hinder the male's attempts to get to his feet.
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Finish soon, since we're both busy?
indent Her teeth caught his back, and he bucked, wriggling out of the she-wolf’s hold. Gabriel used the speed he had been trained to use, and spun around. Lowering his head, he growled deep in his throat, eyes darkening. He made no move to go forward again, realizing that this would result in a stalemate. He could feel the heat on his back from the wounds she inflicted, and shifted his feet. The language was there, indicating that they were finished.
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OC: and life escapes me again XD
She admired his speed and agility at the same time she despised it. Cicatrice braced in expectation of the hybrid's next attack. They were well matched, even she was reluctantly willing to recognize that fact. Watching him with eyes like that glinted in the growing darkness, she licked her jaws and let her pink tongue lawl a second before she bared her teeth in a sharl. Really, she'd been tired before she'd gotten into it with this mongrel, now she felt it again with the adrenaline brought on by their fight ebbing. She shook herself, only now noticing the bastard had gashed her shoulder. Glancing at it, in mild irritation and surprise, she shifted her gaze back to the male. He wasn't unscathed, she was pleased to see. She looked back at him, an unnamed expression on her features. Stalemate, and that was annoying. She'd have preferred to have beaten him outright, but well, at least she hadn't lost. Shoe couldn't have stood for that. Cocking her head in a "what now?" kind of look, she stayed her ground. She'd been here first, afterall, and backing off was not something she believed she needed to do as they were on unclaimed land.
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