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So she is ‘hunting’ in the forested part of whisper beach near the boarders of Dahlia, ^=^ With pups and in lupus form.
500+
The day was warm with the sun shining brightly with mirth within the heavens. The golden light filtered through the trees and dappled the foliage that still lingered within the dying holds of summer. The warrior moved silently, her movements fluid, ethereal. Her body sang quietly, content with the practice of war that had been tested upon her within the hours before dawn. Her training was pushed, and she worked diligently with focus and determination. She had regained already what had been lost. Now, patiently, she sought to push herself beyond that, to heighten her skill so that defeat would not come so easily.
The silence was disturbed by a soft rustling behind her. The twins followed close behind, their little bodies unable to maneuver with silence through the foliage of the woods. They were quiet, however, for they had grown watching the movements of their mother, and their father too. The heterochromia eyes carefully watched their woad-marked mother. “Are we going hunting, mamaidh” Honor asked, his small voice as quiet as his mother’s. The pied boy’s head tilted in question as he trotted up to walk abreast the warrior. Cwmfen nodded imperceptibly, her white orbs turning to look upon the small form of the boy that had taken the coat of her own father. "We are," the soft melody sang in confirmation. She had decided to take them farther than she had before, to allow them to explore and see a greater world than the world of the den and the forest in proximity. Much of the journey had been in silence as they had observed the unfamiliar woods. And, despite the distance that they had walked, the twins did not complain.
Chastity, her coat the colouration of the masked coyote, trotted alongside her brother. “Is dadaidh coming too?” the little girl asked, but Cwmfen shook her head. "No," the soft alto replied as her gaze returned to the path ahead. "Dadaidh is not coming with us today." The pups nodded silently, and yet they were not sad or disappointed. The twins understood with a peculiar understanding the nature of their parents’ lives. They did not resent the time away from their parents. Even now, the twins silently and mutually decided to learn how to hunt so that they could show their dadaidh what they had learned. Cwmfen herself was content with their understanding and her ability to teach them that it was okay. They would need to understand the nature of a warrior’s path and to know what it could mean and what could happen. They received such things well.
The warrior paused, her head lifting. The woad bound ears, already erected, pressed forward to listen. There was no sound yet, but there was a scent upon the wind. She recognized it immediately for one that she had met while she had been pregnant. The woad-marked she-wolf flicked her tail, and the pups fell still, falling in behind her. The forest grew silent. The bearer of the scent had shown her no hostility, but the pack upon the scent made her wary, for she was not unaware of the tensions between Dahlia and Inferni. Not all were as Ezekiel. Through the trees, she could see the boarder, but she did not proceed forward save for but a few steps made in fluid silence. The warrior’s mind grew protective of her young as instinct rose up and hostility with it. But the warrior’s control was held in place, the tranquility seemingly undisturbed as the white orbs, made bright by the half-light of the woods, watched the boarders with fierce intensity in the silence.
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Anselm moved quickly down the jagged highway that cut through Whisper Beach. His black tipped tail was held level with the rest of his body as he moved, though his ears pivoted constantly, pointing forward in anticipation of certain obstacles and sleeking back as he ran over clear, smooth ground. Every so often the pavement was broken up and jagged, and he leapt with surprising grace over the potholes and rubble, moving with such efficiency that it could only suggest he'd made this run before. He enjoyed a good run through these parts--they weren't very far from home, the terrain wasn't as chaotic as it could be in the Waste, and the vegetation was not as thick as it was in Arachnea. It was an ideal path for a sprint--the heat of the pavement only bade him to move ever faster, encouraging him to glide on ahead before there was any opportunity for it to rise up and agitate his paws.
Though Anselm enjoyed pushing his endurance to its absolute limit, there always came a time to stop. His sprint smoothly died down to an easy lope, and soon he veered off the automotive path and into the surrounding forest. The sound of running water beckoned him further west, and before too long he'd found a small tributary that drained from Arachnea's Revenge into the bay. He jumped in immediately--even in the centre of the channel, the water scarcely came up to his ankles. He continued to work his way down stream, kicking up droplets of water and snapping at the cool, clear liquid as he moved. Tiny minnows fled from the godzilla of a wolf, ducking behind whatever cobbles they could find, and puzzled woodchucks watched from the bank. Needless to say, his approach was anything but quiet.
The tributary he followed found its confluence with a larger stream, and only now did he notice the banks growing steeper and higher above his head. It seemed as though the rains they'd had in the last month had done an excellent job eroding the soft soil, and now it would be an interesting task to get back on dry land. He stepped forward once and found himself floating in a deep pool around a bend--he huffed water out of his nose and paddled forward, toes and nails reaching eagerly for solid ground once the water was shallow enough again. Deciding he'd had enough (he was no longer overheated from his run, the water was quite cool, and it wasn't exactly hot in the shade), he backed up as far as he could before bounding forward and leaping up to the top of the bank. The bank wasn't extremely high, but it was taller than he was, and it may have seemed he appeared from nowhere... except for the noise.
His nails dug into the earth and he clawed his way forward, not even noticing Cwmfen (who was now directly in front of him). His feet splayed apart slightly as he shook vigorously, a fine mist of droplets filling the air around him before settling on the ground around him. Only now as he looked ahead did his eyes widen in slight surprise. "Cwmfen!" he exclaimed, the syllables only slaughtered to a very minor degree. His tail swung slightly behind him in recognition--sometimes all it took for Anselm to feel better about someone was having met them once before--and he began to pad over, though he stopped dead in his tracks, ears back, once he noticed her charges peering at him from behind her.
"Oh, fuck. Sorry," he offered, back-pedalling several steps, knowing well enough most mothers didn't want blood-red eyed, tattooed males from the murderous coyote clan very near their young.
lawl, anselm is teh fail with kids. >_> [/html]
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I’m so sorry for the wait.. >n<
500+
The woad-banded ears lifted forward, as if hearing something. It was suddenly that the familiar male appeared, but, despite the suddenness, the warrior’s features exhibited no surprise. The pups straitened, their fur bristling slightly, but, when they heard the familiar sound of their mother’s name, the pups relaxed visibly. Cwmfen herself had bristled slightly in warning when the male did not pause. "Anselm," the tranquil voice replied in greeting. The two-egg twins were silent, their eyes simultaneously turning to look up at their mother before turning back to the strange male. He was not their dadaidh. They had known from the voice first, and now they could see and smell him. Their intense gaze was locked upon the other, though they, as they had been taught, did not meet the gaze of the older wolf. Yet, dichotomous, heterochromian eyes had briefly crossed over the crimson gaze, finding their colour as striking as the berries of autumn and as the blood of a kill. Curious.
The tattooed male’s crude words met the ears of all three Dahlians. The warrior listened to that sound with a mild curiosity, but that sound had never truly fit within the tones of her own soul. She nodded softly, an amiable smile moving across her quiet lips. "You meant no harm," the black fae replied, her voice soft as the melody danced upon the air with golden feet. Her words were meant both to assuage the male and to warn him. Her hackles fell, and she waved her woad-bound tail once in another greeting. The twins saw this action as a signal, and they both moved up to stand beneath her and beside her. "This is Honor," the soft melody introduced, indicating with her muzzle to the pied boy, "and this is Chastity." The black fae courteously introduced her children to the Inferni male. The eyes of the twins never left him. With the introduction, both lifted their gaze to meet the red eyes. “Hello,” they simultaneously greeted with quiet voices. There was no shyness within them, and they seemed strangely bold, strangely intense, as was unbecoming of children. Their curiosity was displayed in a different manner, and as they stared up at him, they wondered and were curious. But, once the introduction was made, they dropped their gaze respectfully and briefly met the other’s gaze.
Cwmfen’s gaze, which had fallen to watch her pups, listed once more. The alto melody sang lightly, almost mirthfully, through the consistent tranquility that was held within her song. "What are you doing here?" Perhaps it was a poor attempt at a joke, a joke in reference to their last encounter. But the black fae was not successful in such mirthful social displays. A faint smile danced upon her maw. She was not wary of his presence. The Adonis had enjoyed their last encounter, and she enjoyed his company. Despite his affiliation with Dahlia’s rivaling pack, the warrior found him to be a rare pleasure. He was not needlessly uncivil with her, and the Adonis approved of such a thing.
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Though he disliked children and was quite possibly the world's worst role model, his first instinct was avoidance and physical savagery was his last. He held no qualms dominating disrespectful youth, but that was a matter of throwing his weight around without using claws, teeth, or generally causing actual harm. He hadn't drawn the blood of a child since he had been one himself. Back then, it was necessary for survival. He'd made his first kill at a ripe young age of five months--his victim was only about a month younger than he was at the time. Throughout the first year of his life he had been expected to wipe out any potential competitors from neighbouring packs, and back then he'd taken his duties just as seriously as he did now. Here, though, things were very different. The lands were not constantly plagued by drought or famine. Here he could begrudgingly accept the noisy, needy creatures as their future generation and not a bane to his own survival.
Strangely, though, Cwmfen's children seemed very unlike any he had encountered before. Given their mother's cool, scrutinising demeanour it was rather befitting of them, though he regarded them with as much curiosity as they did he, though it was less intense. One brow arched in a display of some nondescript emotion--it wasn't scepticism or confusion, though perhaps it betrayed how bizarre he found them to be. Such strangeness was not unwelcome. At least they weren't jumping all over his legs trying to bite his face (or something). They seemed rather respectful and reserved, actually, and now he found himself settling his rump to the ground as he took a seat. His black-tipped tail curled neatly around his body and draped across his feet, though the tip flicked on occasion and was never in the same spot for very long (even when he tried to stay still, he often fidgeted).
Even their names were dignified and proper, and he dipped his head to the two youths as they offered their greeting. Though they physically appeared very different, their mannerisms clearly linked them as siblings. "Hey," he offered somewhat awkwardly--he scarcely knew how to talk to children so young to begin with, and the twins were clearly different enough to throw any ideas he might have had out the window. Consequentially, he was rather content to turn his attention back to the blue-marked woman. "Well, shit, they've already got better manners than I do," he said with a grin, intending it fully as a compliment to her parenting skills and the kids' behaviour, but also making no effort to modify his own crude idiosyncrasies. They could do their thing and he would do his--his language was never meant to offend, the words were just so engrained in his vocabulary and saying something like "shucks" or "golly" didn't exactly fit him.
"At any rate," he continued smoothly, "I was just out for a run." As if speaking of it reminded him of his own throbbing muscles, he rose from his butt and bowed forward in a lazy stretch before standing again and extending his hind legs one at a time for the same purpose. Here he wiggled around a bit until he was satisfied and took a seat again--this time he appeared more comfortable than the last. "How 'bout you guys?" he remembered to ask--hopefully he wasn't interrupting some key family bonding experience. | [/html]
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I really love your table, ^=^
500+
With the tattooed male’s greeting, the pups were silent. Because they had been addressed, the twins lifted their heads and gazes so that they looked up at the stranger they now knew to be ‘Anselm’. And they watched him that the same, peculiar curiosity of their mother. But his attention quickly returned to their mother, and so their gaze turned to her then. "Thank you," the soft alto offered at length, unsure of how to respond to such a compliment. It was at such times that her social ineptitudes could be known. In actuality, the woad warrior knew very little of raising children. She did her best to compensate for that lacking skill, and, although she knew that her methods must surely not be as those of other, more suited mothers, the pups seemed to grow and develop without large discrepancies. Their intensity and their silence did not seem unusual to her.
A run, he claimed, and yet so dangerously close to Dahlian borders. "You should be careful when lingering so close to our borders." She did not doubt that some wolves would not take as kindly to the Inferni hybrid’s proximity to the packlands. The warrior herself was wary of such a thing. Indeed, she had enjoyed his company, and she did not think that he would needlessly cause trouble. But that had been but a single encounter, and a single encounter, while, as all impressions, was a significant event, it was not enough to determine all things. And so she offered him the warning in good nature for his benefit but also as a warning given directly by her self. She was a protector of the lands too both as Adonis and a Warrior. She could easily separate the lines of her duty and a personal life for she understood that an enemy could be a friend and that a friend could be an enemy. The world was filled with dichotomies.
A soft, golden smile danced upon her maw. It almost appeared mirthful, although why the mirth was present was unknown. Perhaps it was merely that the song of the world sang warmly with the golden light of day. "I am going for a hunt," the soft voice replied, "and they have come for practice." The twins had thus far made their practice upon the larger insects of the woods. She had watched them, interjecting only when she had advice to offer. She showed them how to wait, how to be patient, and she showed them the importance of speed and precision. Both pups had taken well to such activities, and, rather than simple play, every wrestle, every pursued insect, was training. They seemed to enjoy it, the mother noted, and she encouraged them. She did admit a satisfaction in the knowing that her young followed upon the warrior’s path upon which both she and Onus tread. "I didn’t mean to interrupt your run," the soft alto continued, speaking with that polite, almost elegant formality. She herself knew of the importance of training, and it was not her intention to interrupt such a process.
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thanks! I love yours, too, it fits her so well oo; & sorry about the wait! D: -intended to do this yesterday but then got pwned by a headache.- -_- and huzzah, character development! >_> XD
@&#&$Anselm was slowly beginning to realise he oft failed to give females enough credit. He obviously valued the racy nights he'd spent with the fairer sex, and there were a handful (such as Cwmfen herself or Savina) that he valued on a deeper level, though usually he couldn't help but look down on them somewhat: human weapons could level the playing field in battle, but tooth and nail they were usually at a size disadvantage that simply could not be neglected. For this reason alone he was far more inclined to court them than to engage them.
@&#&$Now, though, something further was seeping into his consciousness. Things that came naturally to them were foreign and unlikely to him--perhaps she saw nothing exceptional in her instincts and capabilities, but her "not trying" was still worlds ahead of his "actually making an effort" (no matter how poor it may be). It occurred to him finally that they held a great nurturing strength that ought not be neglected; at least some of those he'd wooed in the past had persevered and raised his children alone. While he did a damn good job at taking care of himself, he was only half-useful when it came to extending that skill to others. And ultimately, their species depended more on the survival of the group than that of the selfish individual.
@&#&$It was rare for one as hardened in their ways as he to have such epiphanies, and he drank in the contentment and sense of fulfilment it offered quietly in his own little world. Despite his outward rigidity, the hybrid was always willing to accept new realisations and growth, even if it required accepting error in his previous ways of thinking. This new knowledge was even more welcome if something actually clicked into place and felt right in the world; he simply smiled and nodded at her warning, for a moment so caught up in his own thoughts he'd forgotten where he was and who he was with. "Oh, trust me, that shit-brown leader of yours would have my head if he could," he rumbled with a sneer; it was too much to expect a complete change of perspective or personality, of course. His tone held noticeably less malice than may have been anticipated, however.
@&#&$"It doesn't matter. I was finishing up anyway--a jaunt down that old highway to the shore always does me well." A pause. "I can help out, if you'd like," he added simply. He had no doubts Cwmfen was capable of handling the task on her own--though work in teams was always easier, and maybe the kids could garner something useful about cooperative hunting. [/html]
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Sorry for the wait! I was trying to keep up with the joining threads ><
500+
A single, woad-bound ear swiveled back at the crude language directed at the Lilium. A faint smile—perhaps a wry smile—moved quietly across the she-wolf’s lips. "Your head is not the only one he desires," the quiet alto imparted, the tranquility of those white orbs impassive as she met the crimson gaze. There was a brief silence as if she were seeking something in his gaze or face, but, when she spoke again, it was unclear as to whether she was satisfied or not. "But you should not tempt me with such words," the soft melody replied, and, although her tranquil words betrayed no thought, it did not seem as if she meant for them to be taken lightly. Regardless of what had passed between herself and Haku, the warrior was still required to fulfill her duty as Adonis, for her loyalty, while with Dahlia and Cercelee, was also with the Lilium. She would uphold the honor of the pack at whatever cost was required of her. "You have met him before?" While given as a query, it seemed as if her words were a statement also. While Haku liked very few (and it seemed as if she were no longer one of such few), she did not think that he would without cause desire another’s head. And there was much of the history of these lands that she did not know.
The two-egg twins looked up at the male wolf with their intense, almost fierce curiosity. They wondered at who exactly the male was, but they trusted their mother and were silent. They wondered also who ‘Haku’ was, and they wondered why he wanted the heads of other wolves. They would ask their mother later if they felt that such information was necessary, but they did not ask now. Two sets of heterochromian eyes shifted to look at each other as if they were somehow communicating through the silence. The white orbs of the warrior shifted to look upon them, watching their behavior with both curiosity and knowing. The confusion of the similarity of their souls was not a physical confusion but something deeper. A soft smile moved across the maw of the warrior, her fierce gaze diminishing for these small creatures that she had borne. Her gaze returned to Anselm, as did the gazes of her young.
The woad-marked female was felt relief, for she was never of an intention to trouble others needlessly. She nodded only briefly, perhaps imperceptibly, as if to acknowledge that she had interrupted nothing. His offer, however, was not expected. There was a brief pause in which she considered it, and then, at length, she nodded in acceptance. "I accept your offer," the soft melody sang, a quiet but bright smile upon those lips. She shifted then, to move once more into the woods as a fluid shadow. The pups followed immediately, and it seemed as if they were a part of the magic of the woods. The white orbs, luminescent in the filtered light of the day, turned back to the tattooed male. "You may come with us if you wish," the alto invited. Anselm as no enemy, at least not within that moment. And the black fae wished to keep her pups still within the safety of the packlands. It was not that she was being overprotective. The warrior was simply exercising her caution, and she did it well when the lives of others were within her care.
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"So it goes with monsters," he replied easily, not missing a beat. He held nothing but disdain for Dahlia's second-in-command and he had no qualms voicing his own thoughts on the matter. When Anselm felt as strongly about something as he did this issue, it could be a real task to get him to shut up. For the most part, the bronze hybrid knew what he liked and what he didn't--and furthermore, why--and just because his views conflicted with somebody else's bubble of reality he saw no need to silence them. "Now, now, I'm entitled to my own opinion--just as you're entitled to pledge loyalty to a cold-blooded murderer," he grumbled--though his tone was definitively bitter, it was clear that the malice wasn't directed toward her. Clearly he thought this should be enough--he didn't need permission from his enemies to be friends with theirs.
"Met him?" he remarked with a sharp Hah! "Something like that. Knew him even before that when I found the dead bodies of a mother and child he'd killed and put up on display; guts everywhere, the pup hanging from a tree. And then I guess I 'met' him again when he kidnapped my niece. Didn't actually see his face until the battle he lead on Inferni's soil, though." Here his teeth clicked together as his jaws shut with a snap, the fur along his spine bristling slightly on instinct. She could say what she liked, but Anselm knew his hatred was absolutely and entirely justified. "Anyway, I guess he thought that it was all appropriate retaliation for his sister being attacked after she trespassed onto our land," he concluded, guessing she'd want to know of the initial event that had triggered all of the mayhem.
"So how's that for a history lesson?" he remarked bitterly, though a glimmer of life danced through his otherwise darkened gaze. "You're cool, though," he added simply, daring to nudge her very gently with his snout. In reality, he'd never met any Dahlians as objectionable as Haku--heck, he'd gotten along just fine with Kol back in the day. Even through his thick prejudice and hatred, Anselm knew better than to persecute the collective for the actions of one. For the first time in awhile his gaze dropped to the two puppies and he sighed in defeat. If only he'd known the details of the situation between Cwmfen's lover--their father--and the irate beta, he'd go so far as to suggest she keep them safe from the lilium. Haku obviously valued the lives of children as much as he valued his own sanity; there was no way he was above the slaughter of an enemy's offspring.
Blinking back to the warrior who'd risen before him, he got to his feet and followed her in line with the children. He kept a safe and reasonable distance as they marched single-file into the vegetation, ears back and tail held low. He wondered what would cause such a strong woman to submit to the demon; surely he was beneath her? It seemed his fury had been exhausted, however, and he truly wished not to dwell on the subject a moment longer. It would get him nowhere. For now, he was content to follow her instruction and lead; he was a passionate individual, but he'd always been content to follow those he viewed as competent and capable--he was no leader. This wasn't any different.
perfectly fine, I've managed to catch a bastard of a cold or flu or something, so I've gotten a bit behind, anyway xX [/html]
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Okay, this wait is not oaky >< I hope to not make you wait again~
I like this table too—your minimalism tables are awesome!
700+
The woad bound ears drank in the tale that unfolded. The details had not been imparted upon her before; she had merely heard of abduction, rape, and death. Such things were not unfamiliar in the scenes of war, and so she had not thought much of it. Even now, the details were not unfamiliar, but she could feel the empty heat of Anselm’s bitterness and anger in his words and in the air. And the warrior knew Haku well enough to conclude that such acts had been unnecessary. (When were such things, when was rape, a necessity? Such lines fell loosely within the warrior’s morality.) It was the unnecessary nature of such acts that did not sit well with the warrior. Anselm’s niece had been abducted. "Do you not seek to extract justice?" The soft melody shaped the word within her mouth, and she smiled inwardly at the thought of her lover. But the tranquility was undisturbed upon her external features, for the particular history was not one to be taken lightly. "Haku’s sister?" Mew had been attacked? The warrior could see now the origin of Haku’s anger; he had always lacked control in such areas. A faint nod of understanding was given as she thought through the male’s words. The Raven Warrior wondered if it was wrong of her to desire war or to have been present within the lands at the time of the battles.
A quiet, silver laugh rose quietly upon the silence of the air. The soft nudge that was given was received without comment. Perhaps, if Anselm were another creature, such contact would be received with a warning snarl, a snap of her jaws, for it was not often that the warrior made contact with others. But the gesture was an amiable thing, and she knew that Anselm was not an ignorant wolf. The woad-marked crania turned to consider the caramel hybrid. "I’m glad to be held in such high regards," the soft melody replied. Had she been a social creature, such words may have been spoken in jest. But the song was sung with sincerity, and her laugh given in simple, delightful mirth. The language that was utilized by this male was not one that she was often accustom to hearing, and she found that its dance within the air was strange and yet not misplaced. The twins turned to look at each other. What is ‘cool’? they wondered, their little heads tilting imperceptibly. Are we cool too? But they were silent and would ask later as they turned their gaze to look up at the red eyes of the stranger that was no longer so strange. The twins decided that they liked Anselm, and so they felt comfortable and content.
The black fae lead them in silence for a great distance. Her maw lowered to the earth occasionally to scent the trails both old and new, and she scented also the marks made upon the trees and twigs. The pups watched their Mamaidh carefully and intently in the silence, and they would follow and imitate her. Together the twins paused to scent places longer than others, and soon they could understand what deer smelled like. It was indeed deer that the warrior now sought, for, where once she had sought only rabbits or beavers, the presence of the caramel male allowed for the pursuit of larger game. The warrior found that her body craved the nutrients of a deer’s graceful body more strongly than the nutrients of a smaller hare. It was a wolf’s hunger.
"There are deer not far ahead," the soft susurrus noted. And she indeed meant ‘near’, for as a glade parted before them, a small heard was found grazing. Carefully the warrior had taken them downwind, and the pups now had the opportunity to look upon the forms of the prey animals. The pups walked quietly forward, peering cautiously at the larger animals with curiosity. Their noses twitched as they scented the air, smelling strongly now the smells of their food. Pausing, the warrior turned to Anselm asking, "Do you hunt deer in Inferni?" The whispered query was spoken sincerely, for she did not know. Coyotes often did not hunt deer, she knew, but Inferni’s strange habit of conglomerating as wolves did may have changed such tendencies.
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» Not like I'm doing any better, sorry about the wait! ;_;
Anselm (in his younger days especially) had been notorious for his loose morals and a long list of vices--drinking, gambling, sex, and rampant drug use were part of his everyday life. Since then he had mellowed out somewhat, though he hardly felt any remorse or shame for his past actions. Even still, he possessed a few boldly marked lines that he dared not to cross, and he even felt compelled to punish those who neglected to obey those few basic tenants of societal decency.
Rape was never justified in his mind--men who took out their frustrations on a female were downright pathetic in his opinion. What, they couldn't attract a willing partner? Were they that unimpressive that they felt obligated to throw their weight around? Were they that stupid that they couldn't come up with some clever scheme to get laid? (Rarely was brute force the most intellectual scheme for dealing with any problem.)
He was also quite opposed to the slaughter of the innocent or defenceless, especially when there was no driving need for such ruthless behaviour. Growing up, there'd barely been enough food or water to sustain the local packs, and such tactics were necessary: even those that did not engage them directly in battle served as competition for the scarce resources available. In 'Souls, though, there was no shortage of food or water. There was really no cause for war that he had seen other than someone's ego getting stepped on.
"We took a hostage of our own. Eventually, the two girls were exchanged and a cease-fire was called," he said simply, figuring there wasn't any need for further detail. Perhaps they would revisit this topic at some point in the future, though as they rose and moved further into the territory, the entire quartet fell silent. As they penetrated deeper into the claimed land, Anselm found himself growing more and more aware of Haku's scent rather than that of any potential prey--it was a good thing Cwmfen and her family seemed to be on top of it. His gaze flitted about endlessly, never in the same place for very long. Though their noses were toward the ground, his was in the air. None of the scent trails seemed awfully fresh, however, and eventually he decided he had to trust that Cwmfen wouldn't just lead him into that monster's jaws.
Despite these internal distractions, his footfalls were remarkably silent. Only the painted woman's voice, hardly above a whisper, drug him from the hellish realm of his imagination and back to reality. His nose twitched and his ears swept forward as he considered the deer up ahead, and at her inquiry he offered a silent nod. Anselm hadn't had such a feast since his initial return to Inferni when he'd hunted with Gabriel, though he had brought down a couple of mountain goats since. Being able to shift into the half-ling form gave them an almost unfair advantage over any of their prey, though for now the hunting team was comprised solely of plain old quadrupeds.
"May I?" His voice came in a hushed whisper, one paw lifted in inquiry as the dew claw began to shift position and the claws to extend. As a wolf that practised the transformation between all three forms at least once or twice daily, he'd learned to shift even on the move--that necessitated some control over which parts went when (more so for the final transition from secui to optime, though the same skill carried over now). He wouldn't be surprised if she followed suit, though he supposed everyone had their own unique preferences when it came to the hunt. | [/html]
appending ooc ending: they bring down an animal together, feast, and part ways!
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