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WC: 375
The trees creaked as the wind bent them to and fro. Snow drifted to the ground lazily, oblivious to the tension that was emanating in waves off the tawny coyote’s body as he trotted along the border of the Inferni territory. He found it hard to sleep lately, finding it easier to patrol the borders instead of restlessly tossing and turning in his bed. As per his typical paranoid self, he liked to guard the borders, even if it wasn’t really his job. Fiercely protective of his territory, Sam liked to make sure no damn wolves were anywhere near the border.
On this particular outing, the tawny male was feeling a little unstable. His belly growled with unsatisfied hunger, though he didn’t feel like hunting. Any noise he heard, whether it was a snap of a wayward twig he himself accidentally stepped on, or the distant call of a bird, his coarse hair along his spine and shoulders would stiffen and stand on end.
Often times, Sam wondered about his sanity. When he was in one of his frequent bad moods, he felt that there was a hell of a lot of angry buzzing in his skull, slowly driving him into madness. But he dared not tell anyone this fact. They would brand him mentally unstable and dispose of him. He shook his head, the buzzing becoming angrier at this thought. He slowed to a stop, his front paws just over the imaginary scent line, separating the Inferni territory from those beyond.
But before he could turn and continue along down the borderline, a scent drifted to him lazily. It was harsh and bitter; he wrinkled his nose, his teeth bared, gleaming in the soft moonlight. The coyote lowered his head, his eyes narrowed, as he tried to spot the source of the disgusting scent. How dare those damn wolves even think of coming near Inferni!? He growled, loud and clear. It was a clear message; leave now or I will rip your throat out.
The tawny coyote raised his head, pacing restlessly just inside the Inferni border. His fuchsia eyes were slightly mad; his blind side duller but just as crazy. He growled again, deep and rumbling as he paced, his tail raised aggressively.
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All I ask is that Strel is not terribly hurt xD
Strel did not know what the hell brought him here, to the borders of Inferni. He knew about what the warnings were upon coming close to them, and he had stumbled upon a skull, then another, then another. The fear had blossomed in his heart, spreading throughout him like a disease raging uncontrolled in the body of an immunodeficient patient. He whimpered at the growl that echoed forth at him. Slinking away was no longer an option. He needed to run, though he did not know how generous this coyote was going to be. So this was going to be his first bad experience with one of those breeds. Snake had been nice enough, but who was this beast angrily telling him to leave? Strel meant no harm, and he was trying to move away as best as he could.
Sniffing the air, the redhead gazed about him to determine exactly where the growling coyote was. The overbearing scent marks near him blocked out the potential for him to find Sam on the border. The scents confused him, and he ended up entering the territory instead of fleeing it. That was when he yelped loud and clear. He shifted as fast as he could, knowing he could run far more in his lupine form than the other two since one was built for power, and the other for versatility. Strel was going to survive this, no matter what the coyote wanted.
"I'm leaving! I mean no harm!" he cried, pleaded passionately with whatever coyotes were listening to him, smelling him on the wind, and approaching him to rip his neck out. He cried out, walking out of the territory, back to where there was less to fear for trespassing. Here he could die, and that sounded like hell. Wolves were not welcome here and he had accidentally stumbled upon it, passing the skulls that cautioned his kind that they could easily not live if the other decided to rip their head off their shoulders.
Strel only hoped the coyote did not decide to pursue.
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wouldn't dream of it! crazy sam is crazy, anyway (wc: 312)
Sam growled again as the wolf stumbled about near the border. He didn’t seem to know which way was up, let alone where the scent line was. His lips cracked an evil smirk as the coyote decided to have some fun with this idiot. He snuck around behind him, keeping low to the ground as he did so. When he was right behind the larger canine, he growled, loud and deep.
Leaping to his feet, he glared at the wolf, his fur standing stiff on his back. “What are you doing here?” He demanded, his teeth glinting in the soft moon light. His tail waved back and forth a few times before standing stiffly upward; everything about his posture screaming hostility.
He took a step towards the other canine, wondering if he would actually get the opportunity to teach this brute a lesson. He seemed positively terrified out of his wits; Sam chuckled inwardly, relishing in the power he imagined he had.
The buzzing in his skull was making his head hurt. It was growing loud, and it was all he could do not to scratch his head like mad. Narrowing his eyes, he snapped at the air in front of him. He had almost forgotten about the wolf that was intruding. Suddenly, he lunged forward, teeth gnashing, as his mind cleared enough for him to pinpoint something to take his rage out on.
But all he was getting with his teeth was thin air; he was incapable of hitting an actual target. He bit and growled furiously, trying and failing to get a piece of the intruding wolf. He was beginning to get frustrated; he shook his head swiftly, trying to rid his addled brain of the angry buzzing that was keeping him from reaching the wolf properly. He lunged forward again, shoving into his opponent with his shoulder.
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You can knock him about if you want though, that I don't mind. Maybe a cut/scar here or there. c: this table also way does not fit the thread lmao
The coyote lunged at him, causing the redhead to yelp as he hopped out of the way last minute, feeling the breeze of the beast passing him. The lupine form felt familiar to him, but his experience in fighting with it was minimal. Remembering his childhood helped, after all the days he spent rough housing with Zachs. Then he had tumbled and rolled with his older brother. There had been no point in it then for the redhead, but he was sure now it was done in order to prepare a wolf for battle. Was it an inevitable fate for any beast that nature gave life to? Why was it so? Humans were not born knowing war, not all of them at least had been. Many had been oblivious, unaware, and even unsure of. Why was it that his kind grew up to do? Strel refused to believe it were true. Though he had to admit, all that tumbling prepared him somewhat for this.
"Leave me alone!" he cried, getting rather annoyed at the coyote. There was still fear there yes, but the fact that this coyote insisted despite his pleas and promise of leaving was annoying to behold. He wanted the coyote to stop, but it seemed he had to avoid the attacks as best as he could until the other got bored or Strel managed to get the upper hand. The latter was, of course, laughable. Like hell Strel would get a foothold in this fight. He was not even standing on all four feet on a ground of his choosing. He would be happy to survive with even a bite.
There was something wrong with this coyote, but Strelein did not care; whatever weakened him helped the redhead. That was good. His fear was slowly beginning to ebb and his confidence began to grow minute by minute. Maybe he could attack this brute?
The coyote came at him, shoulder crashing into the redhead and he went flying back a bit. He was off his legs though, so he had to scramble to get up in time in case the coyote went for the soft flesh beneath his throat and underneath his belly. Strel growled, surprising himself. "I said, leave me the hell alone!" he hissed out, baring his teeth at the coyote. He lunged, fangs snapping at whatever was in the way of his teeth. Most likely he would miss, having no skills in the art of combat.
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wc: 531
Sam stood, his legs spread apart and stiff. His eyes were narrowed, but he wasn’t looking at the other canine. No, he was glaring at the ground, his jaws open and salivating. His breaths were ragged and labored as he stood shakily, strings of spit dripping from his teeth.
The movement of the wolf snapped him out of his reverie. His hostility flared once more, but almost immediately after it piqued, it dwindled down, leaving the coyote feeling very tired and drained. He sighed, shutting his eyes.
“Go. Get out of here before I change my mind.” He wanted to turn his back on the wolf, but experience and his own extreme paranoia prevented that. Instead, he settled for backing up so he was fully in Inferni lands once more. The scent line, though it was invisible, did help to soothe his rattled nerves and provided him with a welcome flare of pride for his pack. This feeling of pack was rare, far and in between for the insane coyote; he didn’t know if he liked it or not.
But suddenly, the wolf attacked him back. This sent his blood into a rage; it pumped into his limbs, giving him a wave of renewed energy. The wolf snapped his jaws, catching Sam's pelt in his teeth. The coyote yelped as he felt the sharp teeth of his opponent pinch a small part of his flesh; he had just barely managed to grab a hold of him. Baring his teeth, he let loose a fierce growl. He was surprised more than angered by the response; this wolf had struck him as nothing more than a little lost puppy. But he had proved to Sam that he wouldn't be pushed around.
Not one to be outdone, however, Sam staggered forward, his muzzle wrinkled in a snarl. He leaped at the larger canine, his paws coming back to earth a foot or so from the wolf. Sam's head began to spin. He wanted to end this; the noise in his own head was really beginning to bother him. "Like I said. Get the hell out." He backed slowly once more back into Inferni territory.
He sat on his haunches, watching the wolf. He shook his head again, trying to rid his head of the ever present buzzing. This meeting had done nothing to reassure Sam that he was ready for this war. If anything, he needed a lot of work to control his addled brain. He knew he couldn’t confide in anyone in Inferni. It would be up to him to ready himself for the war. He knew that if he couldn’t get a grasp on this, he would surely get killed. It prevented him from fighting properly, and even if he was fighting in self-defense, he knew for certain that it would not bode well for him.
The coyote wondered what this stranger would do now; Sam had obviously backed down. If it had been him, and he was free of this damn condition, he would have most certainly have attacked at least once before fleeing. But that sort of retaliation had been him in the old days, before the first war.
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I kinda feel we should archive this now xD
Strel had fully expected the other male, whose actions had been growing stranger and stranger as the moments passed, to attack him back in a vicious fit. He expected those fangs to bury themselves into his flesh, biting into the tender areas like a hungry carnivore devours a freshly dead moose. Those teeth, so lethal if the coyote so wanted them to be, could rend his body to pieces, placing his freshly picked skull on the border of Inferni as a new addition to the other pieces of warning. His bones could be used for decorative staffs or some other absurdly outlandish tradition having to do with winning victory over the trespassing wolf.
But he backed down, letting the weaker animal go. Strel straightened, pose looking far more casual than before. He was still on his guard, remembering his childhood fights with an older sibling. Those teeth did not hurt nor did those claws intend to maim back then. The redhead gave a curious look towards the coyote. "Why are you letting me go? Couldn't you easily kill me?" he asked, knowing he should have just ran for it, for home, for the safety that his pack provided him. There he was safe and unless a hurricane came and knocked the land out from underneath him, that was how Strel was going to stay. "Don't you want to decorate yourself in pride with my pelt, bones, whatever the hell it is you do?"
This had been his fault, so he should not fault the coyote for defending his home. But it was so pointless. Strel had gotten riled up and his ego was getting bloated from the encounter. So even if he wanted to run like the coward that he was, he chose to move in close to play with his chances.
How could he have known there was a war about to play out across the way? How was he supposed to know that?
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wc: 313 (yes, I agree, archive soon?)
The taunting from the wolf hit Sam hard. He really didn’t know why he was backing down. Normally, he would have given the larger canine something to remember him by. He was ashamed of himself.
The angry buzzing in his skull was beginning to die down, giving him more thinking capacity. His aggression rose in a swift spike, and he leaped to his paws quickly. The fur on his back, freshly flattened, once again stiffened upward. His tail rose, and he bared his teeth.
“You think I can’t teach you a lesson you won’t soon forget, you insolent whelp?” He snarled. His tongue darted out to swipe at his salivating lips. “I could easily kill you, yes. It would be easy, like breaking a twig.” It felt good to taunt the wolf like he had taunted him; it made him feel better.
“As for decorating myself with your pelt? I only do that with clean fur.” The insult would have infuriated him, had the situation been reversed. He was growing tired with all of the taking. He stepped forward stiffly, preparing himself.
“This ends now.” With that, he lunged at the multicolored wolf, his teeth bared. The coyote landed with a huff on the wolf’s back, his front legs scrabbling, looking to gain purchase in the fur. His teeth found flesh, and he bit down. He held on, tasting blood, but not much. He must not have as good a hold as he thought.
The coyote released, paused briefly, before running at the wolf, hoping to drive him out. In all honesty, the wolf was bigger, more muscled. He could easily beat the smaller canine’s ass, if he had a mind to. His muzzle was wrinkled in a silent snarl as he rushed the wolf, unsure if his plan to run him out would work.
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Will be archived after this  thanks sweetie <3
Strel growled, letting his teeth showed in a display of force at the coyote. Those were insults to his very being and he took them quite personally. His temper flared, and he let out a low rumble from his throat. He was not going to take this stranger's shit, despite all of his fears of death and bodily loss. He spread his feet apart more for better purchase even as his limbs itched to run. The corners of his snarling lips turned up a bit. There seemed less to fear from the coyote standing before him than he had thought. The man had some issue going on, causing him to move poorly and his judgment was clearly on the fritz. It seemed as though a bit of clarity had come on the stranger, but it did not matter. Strel was still fast enough to move away and escape. Hopefully.
"At least I don't have the blood of innocen-" he stopped, yelping as the coyote's teeth suddenly sank into his back. Thankfully it was not deep, but it hurt him enough to cause a stifled scream. He did not want to have someone show up. He twisted his head around to gaze at the wound as the coyote moved back towards Inferni lands; it was bleeding, but weakly. It was nothing to worry about, for now. He just needed to get it washed a bit, and maybe get a cloth compress and he would be right as rain in a few days.
"You...bastard," he fumbled with his words, struggling. He got hurt, albeit mildly, but that was nothing to complain about. It could have been worse. "I hope you walk into a bear trap." Strel back up, then turned to run back home. His back ached, but considering his flesh was still intact, it was a good thing. Besides, now he know, he could defend himself if he really wanted to. He could also run away and survive. That was good to know as well. It is okay to be a coward. Sometimes.
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