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 Posted: Fri Aug 05, 2011 11:27 pm
They were terrible.
They were terrible, and wonderful, and horrible, and so many other things - tiny, frail, warm and soft - and she’d never been more horrified of any one thing in her entire existence. They were hers… they were hers…
And they had come too soon.
Tiyana had wanted, very desperately, to have given life to these three little beings somewhere she could leave them - where they’d be safe, yes, and cared for, but also where she could spend the shortest amount of time with them, and therefore not imprint herself on their tiny newborn minds. It would have been best for them all - herself included. It would have been best. Then, they wouldn’t have been born within the dripping confines of a poorly-dug badger den, hardly any sort of shelter from the summer rains, muddy and gloomy, filled with roots and the heavy smell of its old tenant. But she had done her best to make it more appropriate, though she wanted no more than to push on; only when they were at their most desperate need of escape did she finally stop, regardless any pain she might have been in. Pain was nothing, she could handle pain.
Though she was such a small wolf on her own, and young, and inexperienced. How she managed three was, truly, a miracle, though it did help that each was much smaller than the average newborn. They were premature, definitely, and though it caused her great grief, perhaps it was for the best.
She had been with them, crouched around them, gently treating them with as much care as she could muster, for quite a while now. How long? Weeks. Maybe. It most certainly felt like weeks, during which she drank little and ate even less. She couldn’t leave them and trust that floodwaters wouldn’t take them where they slept; she didn’t hunt what wasn’t right in front of the den, and sadly, what she did catch consisted of lizards and moths. A lack of nutrition had worn her body into something unattractively thin and sickly, her fur rich with mud and burrs, her belly shrinking as she tried to keep up with their voraciousness… as they drank what little health she had, and took it for themselves.
She didn’t know whether to be angry with them, or guilty for the world she had brought them into. They didn’t know any better, they were hardly old enough to see! But they were killing her, and she needed to move them somewhere safe before she succumbed to something much darker than her wasteful complaining thoughts. She could complain all she liked, but that didn’t change the fact that she was now effectively in charge of three lives that she herself had created. With help, yes, but Adonai was nowhere nearby. She was on her own, and alone, as she hardly considered the puppies to be intelligent enough to realize their situation. They certainly couldn’t change anything.
But she hadn’t gone far enough away from Adonai and his pack, and certainly not far enough from their sister pack. She hadn’t had the strength she thought she did (and usually had, though she admitted she wasn’t usually pregnant when she tried to travel). She didn’t know how far she had gone, wandering through strange forests and stranger territories, but if she were to turn around…
She didn’t want to go back, feeling as though she could hardly look Adonai in the eyes and explain why she had left, only to return with whelps; she didn’t know how he would react, or if he would accept them, or if he would become angry… no, she didn’t think he’d harm them, they were his own and he would respect that, but he wouldn’t be happy with her. She didn’t want to face him again, but if their little ones were to have any chance at a decent life, then she had no other option.
He could have them, dammit, she was much too young to have this sort of responsibility thrust upon her shoulders!
~~~
And so Tiyana decided to move the tiny pups, on a day when it seemed the least amount of terrible happenings would occur. Somewhat sunny, but maybe a little overcast; stagnant air that tasted of midspring humidity. It wasn’t a short trek, and there were certainly many moments when she thought one pup had dropped behind, or became lost, or died - all things that, luckily, just weren’t true. It was harrowing, and she was sure that if the environment and its dangers wouldn’t get to them, surely she would.
Still, there were three of them and they seemed in fair health. At least she had managed that.
She couldn’t imagine that they were terribly far by this point, as for the first time in many weeks, she began recognizing the ground on which she tread. It was a place she had been before, and it smelled of familiar things; it wouldn’t be so long before they would come to the rock, where she had first met Adonai… ground zero, so to speak. The landscape was far-removed from the wintry paradise she’d once paraded through, all sleek-coated and glossy-tongued… how disappointed he would be to see her now, hardly able to keep the back-end of her little son from dragging on the ground as she carried him forward.
Of the three of them, he had been the one to whimper and complain the loudest; her daughters were quiet, and resigned to walking on their own well enough, but his tongue never once stopped flapping if he was forced to take to his own paws. It was easier to carry him than to worry about him flailing about, catching himself in every godforsaken burr or rat-hole that sprung up in his path… granted, this was a journey they shouldn’t have survived, but it did grow to be very annoying after it was made clear he wasn’t in any real peril.
She had to give her little daughters credit here, for being as steadfast as they were. Her youngest was so reserved, and so spare on words, that she was hardly any sort of bother - though a bit of an odd sort, she certainly wasn’t weak. She didn’t complain, or whimper, or speak at all, really, making her very good company to have when Tiyana’s nerves could grow no thinner. She just marched right along, despite the confines of a tiny body, hooded olive eyes hardly asking despite the situation as though already resigned to whatever fate might have in store for her. Brave, then, or perhaps just too young to know any better.
The middle daughter brought the most heartache, however, though not so much in actions as appearances; she wore a calico pelt much too similar to Adonai’s for Tiyana to ever really feel comfortable with her, and even now she didn’t mind the bit of a gap between them as the little pup wandered the path at her side. She was curious, though in a tempered way, and what time she spent taking in the world around her, Tiyana spent wondering if Adonai would have any questions about the origins of their pups. The red jester and the little black silent one might take after herself too heavily, but at least the calico could show who their father truly was. Tiyana hadn’t been so secretive with her past encounters, but she had been honest enough to Adonai - she had no reason to lie, when they hardly spent any of their time talking about other interests.
Briefly, she thought about what Adonai might name them… but then she banished the thoughts just as quickly, rounding on the flat stone tor that had once been her throne and dumping her tiny cargo at its base. “Rest a little, mis amores, it isn’t much longer,” she murmured quietly, settling her own shivering bones on the ground and letting her head sink to her paws. “We are nearly there…
He was hot, and he was achy, and oh, how his paws hurt! And he didn’t want to be here, wherever here was. It was plain, and there was no water, and nothing to eat. Not even a scrap to chew on or play with, or a mud pit to wallow in while his paws recuperated. He was hungry, and he was tired, and he was done with this great adventure Momma was taking them on, especially since not once had she spoken a word as to where they were going. Just ‘somewhere new.’ Only ‘somewhere better.’ What did that mean? He hadn’t much experience in the world of New Better things, so he could only trust she knew what she was doing.
Tongue stuck comically out the side of his mouth and already setting the pitch for a well-placed hungry whimper, he found a spot near his mother’s side and began chewing on her toes - only to be shoved away and given a rather dirty look that in no way deterred him from proclaiming his need for food. His sister with all the funny spots could flop about and wander as she pleased, and the weird dark one could be broody and unabashedly quiet where she was - so long as neither of them tried to weasel food outta Momma before he did.
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Posted: Sun Aug 07, 2011 11:49 am
 Everything hurt. This was nothing new. From the moment she'd opened her eyes, the world had been pain. The light? Too bright for her unadjusted eyes. The air? Too cold for her fluid-soaked fur. The ground was rough on her tender paws, and the swiping of her mother's cleaning tongue had pulled on fur, yanking it about and tugging on her still-soft skin. Nothing had been what one could consider "pleasant," especially not this. Walking. Endless walking. It seemed they would never stop, would never find rest. Perhaps this is what life was- pain. Nothing but discomfort, fear, hunger, ache and the knowledge that comfort would always be given to others.
The other pups were nothing to her- leeches to the large one who had whelped her, who had nudged her onto her paws and walked away, setting the clear example that if one didn't keep up, one would be left behind. Very well. She would not be left behind. When her dark eyes had cleared enough to let her focus on the world at large- what were all these strange objects? This... place that she had arrived into?- she trotted along, following at a safe distance. It hurt, honestly. Stretching as-yet untested muscles to the limit, remaining silent when secretly she wished to curl up and whimper, to be caressed and soothed... This was her lot in life. Very well.
The one who was weak was carried. He received attention. He received attention. He was able to curl up next to the large one, to burrow against her soft fur, be given gentle nudges, to suckle and be fed. She was ignored. Fine. If that was the way it was, that was the way it was. She would not be weak, even if that was how weakness was rewarded. Her paws could carry her as long as they needed to, and even though she was dangerously near exhaustion when the big one finally stopped, the silent pup defiantly paced about a bit longer, forcing herself to continue moving as her sore paws cried for reprieve.
A single luxury was allowed: she cast a disgusted look at the whining pup even as she ignored the wandering spotted one. Weak. He was nothing but weak. If not for the large one bearing him along, he would've flopped to the ground and lain there for anything that might come along.
This was not a world in which weakness would always be rewarded with tender care. She knew that instinctively, felt it on a level that she didn't have the words to name.
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Posted: Thu Aug 18, 2011 11:52 am
 Adonai was a mess.
He had wandered haphazardly through his pack all this time, feeling lost and edgy. He loved Tiyana. That was the truth of it: more than a way to keep himself occupied, to bolster his ego, he really did love her. Perhaps he had realized that too late. Perhaps he had been so concerned with the propriety of their relationship -- so overwhelmed with guilt that he was somehow taking advantage of her affections -- that he had not stopped to simply acknowledge the fact: he loved her.
And then she had left him.
He didn't know why she had disappeared. He certainly didn't know about her pregnancy, although the thought had crossed his mind once or twice. He always pushed the thought away, unwilling to come to terms with it. He would imagine some other reason for her to leave. He had offended her in some way, surely. Or perhaps she had simply recognized what he had feared all along, that a wolf twice her age had no business sharing her affections.
And yet....
It was a shame, really, that she had not confided in him about the pups. He would have willingly taken them from her and allowed her to leave, if that's what she wanted. He would have viewed them as his burden to bear, not as something to inflict upon a young and delicate unwilling mother. He, the older and responsible half of the couple, should hold the majority of responsibility in these things.
But, she had said nothing to him, and she had been gone so long now that he was beginning to think it had all been a dream, and she would never return to him. His capacity for self-despair was endless. In that moment, though he hardly knew it, he would have had quite a lot in common to share with his estranged son. They hated themselves equally, at that point.
Feeling quite sorry for himself, he found his way back toward their meeting place almost by instinct, head thoroughly in the clouds.
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Posted: Sat Aug 27, 2011 11:55 am
Rather than fight the whimpering one for a place by the large wolf's side, the pup chose to pace around a bit more, relishing the hurt of each sore paw hitting the ground, the exhaustion that threatened to drag her little body into the dirt. Her dark eyes slid back to the heaps of fur that were her mother, sister and brother, before she found herself a niche at the edge of the large, flat stone.
Wedged half beneath it, she scraped at the dirt to shallow out a spot before curling her paws against her belly and finally, finally letting her jaw rest, leaning her head into a soft patch of scanty grass. Away from the others, she could breathe, relax, let herself feel each and every ache that pulsed through her still-new body. It felt strange- everything felt strange- but it was exhilarating all the same.
Although she'd managed to be alert and swift the entire journey, the soft sounds of her siblings' breathing, her mother's scent nearby and the comfort of the cool, moist soil combined to lull the pup into a doze, her little body wedged as far beneath the edge of the stone as she could get. It would have been better, perhaps, if she'd been less hard on herself, taken the pace a bit slower, but the long toll caught up with her at last. Olive eyes slipped closed, and the young pup was soon deeply asleep.
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Posted: Thu Nov 17, 2011 8:08 pm
For that briefest of moments, there was relief. Freedom from the constant worrying, the strain and weight that had seemed so necessary, but now in the peaceful quiet, seemed just as equally impossible to bear any longer. How had she not broken under it before now? So many unfamiliar coves, glenns, and territories, all the threats of a million scents and sounds… but now they were on familiar grounds, a place where she had never been pressed for safety or comforts. Safe… safe. They would be safe here.
Gods Above, she needed a rest. Her little red jester was such a bother, crawling over bones fragile as ice and stepping on shriveled innards that might as well have shattered under his tiny paws. He was so very good at being annoying, and while she should have been keeping an eye on all three little whelps, he seemed incredibly keen on keeping her otherwise preoccupied. “Give it a rest, small one,” she grumbled, nudging him away time and time again as he tried to reach her belly; she didn’t think she had anything left to offer for him, anyways.
She closed her eyes, and it was bliss; she left her worries behind and slipped into a resting so much deeper than any she had allowed previously, and could not stop herself from falling victim to her fatigue.
~~~
Somewhat removed from the group and with her own goals in mind, the calico pup quickly found herself in a bit of a dilemma. To stop was a beautiful thing, of course, as even now she felt the twings of muscle spasms running the lengths of her stubby legs - but there were still things to look at, it seemed, a rarity of unfamiliar territory that might as well have beckoned her onwards with all the promises of comfort and food that, even at this age, she knew her mother could not provide. The wolf who cared for her as one cares for a pestilence had kept her alive, yes… but if there was just one drop of drink, just beyond those fronds…
She had little idea on how to find anything worth drinking, as the pools where they had rested previously had always been quiet, and somewhat stagnant. Her little ears, quaint and still floppy, searched out any sound whatsoever in the afternoon calm, trying to discern between the flap of bird wings and the sound of grass as it was pushed about in the tapering wind. Water made little splashing noises, she thought, at least when something hit the surface. Perhaps…
Was that what she heard now? Something low and close was shaking the weeds, a darkness amongst summer foliage that picked at her curiosity until she gave in and fumbled forward.
~~~
Ah, she was so soft. At least, where she didn’t have muck in her fur. She could try to shove him away all she wanted, he didn’t care - it was only a matter of time before she grew tired of struggling, anyways, and then she’d be the most comfortable of resting places. Maybe her neck, or her tail… he liked to wiggle between her front legs, sometimes, but only if he was cold - and he certainly wasn’t feeling that way now. Disappointed by the lack of lunchable milk and rejected a number of times that finally solidified her lack of interest in his conquests, he finally settled into the shadows that gathered at her side. Why not? She had drifted out of nudging consciousness, and the game was no longer fun when she wasn’t pushing him away. He could be comfortable here, if only…
If only there hadn’t been some sort of grand commotion, and if she hadn’t leapt up so quickly with a feral sort of scream as the shrill wailing of some animal in pain broke the peaceful little glen. He tumbled to the ground, yelped as it truly hurt, and then looking beyond his mother’s legs, began to understand fear.
It had tusks, great tusks, and from one hung a small calico body, impaled by the belly and hanging limp as the beast shook its massive black head.
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Posted: Thu Nov 17, 2011 10:23 pm
A sound of pain, and she was alert, instinct fighting over physical exhaustion and pulling her eyes open.
It was nameless. Nothing in her brief experience had given her a name for something like this, but the threat it presented was all too clear. Blood was a scent that she knew- coppery and warm, with a bitter undertone that spoke of lost life- and a scent that was coming in droves off of the hulking thing. The corpse of her sibling was irrelevant- already dead, there was nothing to be done.
The thoughts tumbled over each other, scarcely acknowledged before they'd already passed. She was young. Too young for this. Too young to face death when she'd barely attempted to live. Thoughts of struggle came and fled as the pup sized up the thing that bore the lifeless body of one who shared blood and parentage with her. This was a fight she couldn't hope to win, and attempting it would be futile. It wasn't anything she consciously knew, nor could she have put it into words had she been so inclined. It was instinct, and it spoke to her now. Be still. Be quiet. Rub about in the dirt. Hide your scent. Get further under the rock. It's too big to reach you there.
Instinct spoke, and she heeded the urgings from the deepest part of her mind. The large one who had birthed her would have to care for the others that belonged to her, weak though she was. This pup would care for herself, and she did so. A slow, careful rub of her fur against the soil, and she wedged herself further beneath the rock, only the gleam of eyes showing that she watched, and watched intently.
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Posted: Sun Nov 27, 2011 9:18 pm
All her tragedies combined could not freeze the blood to her veins as this one moment did, as that tiny life was there and then gone - right before her eyes - before she could do anything to prevent that slavering beast from taking it with a swift shake of the head.
Horrible. Horrible. Horrible. No, no her puppy, not her little calico, her dear little…
Tiyana’s eyes were glazed and her lips pulled far back against her muzzle long before she realized she had taken to her paws, all the forest for naught as all she saw was that oil-black monster and its twisting, wet nostrils that found disgust in the body it had inadvertently pinned to its muzzle. It could fight and paw all it liked, but only now was it regretting its decision to gore the little puppy - backwards tusks were not the easiest to free, least of all from something much too small to see properly with crusted, mustard-colored eyes. It shook and shook its massive head, and squealed out its frustration, but could only be angered further by the flopping legs that pattered against its jaw; Tiyana saw the swing of small paws, and internally, she collapsed.
Her body, however, reacted in the way a wolf in her situation should. Protect your young, save your child, the enemy’s before you and won’t relinquish its hold on your dear little one.
It has your child.
Tiyana only knew one pup then, and though physically she could not best the wild boar, she still beat out a savage cry and threw herself forward.
~~~
He didn’t know what to do. His instincts must have been broken. But in that moment that his mummy turned wild, any sense of self-awareness fled the little puppy’s fleeting brain; he wanted away, away, just away! But he couldn’t get away, not now, not without a red-tipped tail to show him the way. She went forward, and he should have gone back, but he couldn’t move, fixed in place amongst flattened grass and nearly just as flat to the earth as his surroundings. Very stupidly, he stared. Very innocently, he was given the impression that she could save him from the monster and maybe even get his sister back.
Reality hit hard in the same way the boar’s great tossing head did, as with little effort it tossed Tiyana’s best intentions aside - she was brushed aside in a way that had her tumbling, the impact of her body with its muzzle being just enough to free his sister from its tusks. The calico body made an arc, hit the ground, and rolled a bit, coming to a stop just where he could cower behind it; too close, in fact, for that bitter smell of blood made him retch in a way that mealtimes couldn’t evoke. He could see her, and she wasn’t moving. Her eyes were wide, but again, so was her belly. He was sick.
The beast spotted its earlier annoyance, remembered its fury, and without much concern for the red jester at its side, barreled down on the calico pelt, churning up mud and grass with cloven hooves that saught to tear the corpse to shreds. He just so happened to be too close, and too similarly-shaped to avoid detection.
Still, he saw the haggard shadow of his mother as again she took to the boar. It veered and she latched her fangs onto its cheek, perhaps saving her little son as a funny side-effect to her own righteous anger; it bucked and stomped, but she wouldn’t let go.
An he couldn’t do anything.
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Posted: Fri Dec 02, 2011 1:15 pm
Adonai wandered for a long time, long enough that he hardly remembered when he had left, or where he had intended to go. It didn't really matter, anyway. Tiyana was gone, and even Thrush had left. not that losing Thrush was any loss, mind, but she had been an amusement in the dark hours of his self-loathing, and she provided a way to blow off some steam.
Now, even that was over.
He had just started to get a good mope going when the sound of a wolf in pain caught his ears. No...a puppy. The sound was unmistakable, and the way it was cut short caused his stomach to lurch with sudden uneasiness. The scent of blood on the air confirmed his terror.
Adonai was a good wolf. Certain others would argue that fact. He had been maligned by many creatures in his life, and he deserved some of that. He was flighty and quarrelsome and tended to pursue shallow relationships. But he was also honorable, and he would not stand by while an innocent life was damaged.
Shifting his course, he loped toward the smell of blood, his ears pricked forward to the sounds of snorting...snuffling...growling...he was liking this less and less as he approached.
As he crested into view, his blood froze in his veins. It took only a second to assess the situation, but it seemed to stretch forward into eternity.
The pig...Tiyana...the little red pup...the corpse of the calico. From his vantage point, Adonai could not see the little black pup who had hidden herself away in the rocks, and her scent was disguised by blood. His eyes wouldn't leave the calico girl. She was his. That much was obvious. he might have questioned it from the appearance of the red pup...but the little girl left no doubt in his mind.
Something ferocious welled inside of him, and he was running before he even knew what to do. He blazed past the red pup, throwing his body between them, and bore down on the pig that now threatened to kill his beloved the way it had slaughtered his young, unknown daughter. "Tiyana!" He panted. "Get out of here. Grab the pup and RUN, I'll fight it off!"
He didn't want for her to respond before he threw himself into the pig, attacking with claws and teeth and an adrenaline-fueled ferocity that was shocking from the gentle old man.
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Posted: Wed Dec 07, 2011 10:12 am
She was, only in an offhanded sort of way, cognizant of the blazing white arrow that struck forth at the boar; she saw him the way a battle-blinded dog sees from the corner of their eyes, as a small and insignificant thing until it seemed he was right on top of her, battling that evil beast in a way that clearly outstripped her own strengths. But still, she could not accept what he was bellowing - she didn’t hear him, not really, not when she had the taste of blood in her mouth and the pain of fresh loss still tearing into her soul. She wouldn’t release her grip on the boar’s cheek, not until it tore away in her mouth. She hardly even looked at Adonai before her chest rumbled with a deep and unrelenting snarl, both toward him and the boar equally.
This was something she needed to do, and damn anything that got in her way of getting some sort of revenge for the little fallen one. She had failed, and was a failure; she needed this petty redemption in a primal way.
But just as deep as her instincts to rent everything before her to shreds were those of the boar itself. To be delivered from one annoyance, only to have another immediately latch on to a very tender place? It was maddening, and filled its eye with a thick coating of blood that was as frightening as it was infuriating. This black one was stubborn, but perhaps easily beaten down under heavy cloven hooves. This white one? A new threat, and a new number added to problems that could not easily be defeated. Its nostrils flared and its eyes rolled madly as it flung its head one way, then the other, impaling the skinny armpit of its black antagonist and once again shaking it away; would it be gone for good, now? Tail flicking and body slamming about, the boar began thinking of an escape - even if it had to press on through the white one’s sudden, fresh attacks. This was new pain, and was much more defined than any thus far, so much so that the thoughts of calico patterns began to stick badly in its simplistic thoughts; another calico thing, come to maim? Better shake down the haunches, lower the head, and thrust forward with all tusks ready to score.
~~~
Again, the little jester had a body flung toward him. Again, he smelled the sharp tang of blood where he shouldn’t have, in ways that he detested so very badly that he responded with an acute spasming of the gut. But he didn’t have any more to give, or to get rid of, and so was reduced to a very ill-feeling, shuddering puddle of fur and nerves as his mum took that hit and didn’t immediately get up. He wasn’t sure what he saw when the big, white calico took to wings above his head, as much an angel and a godsend as he was a bewildering sight the pup never thought he would ever see. He didn’t know whether this was some new form of torture, and was only slightly relieved to see the calico wolf’s intentions were to render that big monster harmless to his injured mum, hardly aware that he was crying so loudly that his squeaking voice could be heard even through the tumultuous fighting.
But perhaps that was a good thing, as in response to that tiny, piercing voice, his mum again climbed to her paws.
~~~
The war she felt inside was not one to be taken lightly, or pushed aside. Fight, fight that thing, kill it! But save the little red, pick up your young one who still lives, and flee…
She was hurt, and badly. She felt the slice of a tusk under her front leg, and was burning with a pain that did not register mentally, but warned her that any steps further would be met by a full-body unwillingness. As she lay there on the ground, trying to force herself up, she recognized Adonai for perhaps the first time since he flung himself into battle; saw his rush into action as a reflex, a strange deformation of the Adonai her mind turned to when trying to figure out from where his animalistic retortions came. She had three good legs, and wanted to fight until they were all taken from underneath her! But then… then, she would have to ignore that pathetic wailing that was filling her ears, digging into the pit of who she really was and trying to overcome the thought that one life must be avenged.
She stood, wavered, and looked to the boar, but it was far too busy trying to brush off Adonai’s ferocious attacks. She looked the other, and saw the little cowering creature that huddled by that little life lost. No pressure could be placed on her forepaw, not without an acute and terrible pain threatening to fell her again, and the flurry of oil-black against calico white left no clear opening for her to dodge in and score a fatal hit.
She had no choice.
As much as she wanted to rail against Adonai’s advice, she turned to her jester, took him by the ruff in a less-than-gentle manner, and made a hopping effort for the cover of forest, all the while in a full bristle that warned she would drop that pup in an instant an be back in the fight again if she thought she could manage anything. She didn’t want to run away, and just the thought had her nearly on fire, but this one was still alive…
She couldn’t shake off the feeling that she was forgetting something, then, as she hobbled away.
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Posted: Thu Dec 08, 2011 1:01 am
"Tiyana!" Adonai's blood ran cold as he saw her fly back. He managed to dodge the beast's thrusting tusks, but only barely, and his blood ran cold as the dainty female fell to the dirt. His heart thudded to a halt in his chest, and for one brief moment he was certain that the world had come to a screeching halt.
But then she was alive, and sound drained back into the world, and he realized that the tusk had only gone into her flesh, not through her chest.
Infuriated, the white wolf fell upon the boar with renewed rage.
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Posted: Mon Dec 12, 2011 6:45 am
Usually, such attacks didn’t phase the wild boar. Usually, creatures would see just how big it was and run the other way; they would notice its posturing and its threats, and take to heart the warnings that this powerful animal conveyed through bellowing nostrils and flaming eyes. The black creature was retreating, which was good, and spoke well of the boar’s success - made it pig-headed, and rash. So it had missed the white one by a hair’s breadth?
But it was still nervous, and wasn’t sure how to take the angry jaws that snapped and tugged at great mouthfuls of flesh. The white one didn’t see its scuffling hooves and bristled back as a warning, and bore down with such a ferocity that the boar was forced backwards, head to its chest to protect that one vital spot. Scores of wounds opened up all over its body from the wild thrashing of a demon possessed, and flinging its tusks about, it squeezed shut its one eye and tried to escape.
~~~
Tiyana didn’t know safety anymore. It was a concept that just didn’t exist, not in the furthest reaches of her brain, and as such, she didn’t know where she was supposed to go. Already it took willpower and strength to abandon the glade, almost chewing on the little red mouthful of fur in her agony; where was she to flee to?
A brief memory slipped through the cracks, and solidified her only choice. A small hole in the ground, a stretch of the word ‘den,’ where there was still a warm and secluded feeling… where she could tuck in her pup, and hide from the treacheries of the world. A fox den that had once been shared now offered itself to her, and she turned her nose to find it.
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Posted: Tue Jan 03, 2012 1:27 am
Adonai bore down on the boar with a nearly supernatural rage. The more he fought, the angrier he became. He had lost a daughter, a sweet, beautiful little girl who he would never have the opportunity to know, now.
And he had lost other daughters, in the past. One, who could barely stand to look at him. The other, who would kill him if she had a chance.
A son, too, he had lost, by virtue of that stupid pack.
What had Adonai done to deserve this? What had he done to deserve any of this?
Disregarding any blows dealt to his own body, he tore at the beast as though his sanity depended on it.
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Posted: Tue Jan 03, 2012 8:03 pm
It was bewildered. It was beyond anguish, no longer knowing anything but the teeth now tearing it to death. The boar was doing its best - it was using its tusks to their full advantage, and was doing an incredibly good job of tearing into the white terrorizor, but still - the wolf would not relent! The hatred that seethed in his breath, his eyes, and his fangs - it would burn the boar to its very center until nothing was left!
And it couldn't escape, couldn't even back up without the wolf following and continuing to ignore self-preservation as he filled a lust unlike anything the boar had ever known. This wasn't a fight. It was vengeance. Even its simple mind could gather the facts and see that much.
Spitting blood and nearly cracking its teeth as it ground them down in terror, the boar could take it no longer. It twisted its head to the side, hardly able to see through the veil of blood, and tried to run.
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Posted: Tue Jan 03, 2012 10:27 pm
At one time, Adonai might have advocated for peace, forgiveness. He might have been satisfied with retreat.
But not any more.
He snarled, a wordless cry of anguish and pain. He was bleeding from a half-dozen wounds, but hardly felt them. He cared about nothing. He only wanted to tear apart the boar, as though perhaps in its destruction he could somehow get his life back.
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Posted: Tue Jan 03, 2012 10:49 pm
It could take no more. There were no weaknesses in the wolf's walls, no opening for it to squeeze through and flee with its life still intact. Its ears were gone, torn off in mighty fits of fury, and it could no longer see; great patches had been torn from its body, and so much blood dribbled from every concievable vein that it was only a matter of time before it would be fatally weakened.
No amount of pushing forward won it any favours. No attempts at turning back would save its life. The boar fell to its knees, heavily, and let out a massive, saliva-and-blood-soaked squeel, giving in to the mightier beast.
Though it might have been a victory, the boar would never relate the killing of the pup to this swelling of anger. It just couldn't draw those sorts of lines.
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