[breedings] Wolf Breedings

[Minsuil]

Your Username: Minsuil
Your Wolf:
Prompt Reply: He slept curled up, knees drawn inwards, as small as he could possibly make himself. It was an old habit, one that a small colt had learned during cold and wet nights. Then he had been alone, but now there was someone at his side. Torrential slept ever night curled up in a similar ball at his back, a small ball of fur.

When he woke, he stretched out and wiggled his toes ... Toes. Dryspell looked at his hooves and found paws instead. He looked up. Torrential was there, staring back at hims with her golden eyes. Her ears twitched back and forwards, she raised a paw and Dryspell understood.

He stood. He looked up to the moon above. Torrential turned, and he followed. When she began running, he also began running. The feeling of the earth beneath his paws was so different from that of the earth beneath his hooves, but so familiar at the same time. They ran side by side paws thundering against the damp earth of the swamp, and their hearts beat as one.

Dryspell knew he would never be alone again.  

[Ruriska]

Your Username: Ruriska
Your Wolf:
Prompt Reply:

Eyes snap wide.

Breathe in.

A world of scents.

A world of sounds.

The earth is rich, wet and if he focuses he can hear the bugs and the worms as they travel through the muck. The smell of it is so strong he can taste it on his tongue, drag it down into his lungs. He knows that a group of boars has passed through here, leaving behind their mark. His stomach twists, a rush of hunger and his mouth opens. He can feel saliva gathering between his teeth, no- fangs.

A whine.

He looks over, eye to eye. It’s disconcerting at first, as he faces down the wolf with hardly a height difference between them. Those powerful jaws are so close. Fate, he remembers as the wolf growls, his scent aggressive. They tested each other once before and they will do it again. Instinct is all that matters now and he curls his lips back, lets forth a snarl from deep in his belly.

I am meaner than you, it promises, I will destroy you. I will tear your throat open and leave you for the crows.

Fate’s body language shifts instantly, tail tucked and ears back, ready to please. There is no need for violence. No need to shed blood a second time. So he stands taller, ears forward and tail up. They are pack. Stronger together and where he goes, Fate will follow.

They play for a time. Tussling, covering their fur in mud, rolling together with snapping jaws, their teeth never puncturing skin. He feels lighter and stronger. When he twists around, finds purchase in the soft earth and bears Fate down with his whole body, teeth gripped loosely around his throat, he feels unstoppable.

When they rest, it’s side by side, Fate’s tongue licking along the side of his face.

A quiet moment.

Until hunger drives them up, sends them pacing into the night, noses keen. He is always aware of Fate nearby, whether he is in view or not and together they are relentless and ruthless. Together they are swift and strong, driving prey into waiting jaws. It is exhilarating; the snap and the crunch, the rush of hot blood and the fire in his belly sated.

It is so much easier like this, he thinks, so much simpler.

But it’s not his forever.

The Killing Moon lifts his head to the sky and lets out a mournful howl. When Fate joins in, it fills up the hollow spaces inside him.  

[Amorpheous]

Your Username: Amorpheous
Your Wolf:
Prompt Reply:

Thick fur, teeth sharp in a jaw made for snapping, and claws pointed extended from padded paws made for running, this form was comfortable; it was right. Each night was different, but it was familiar--it made more sense than seasons in a body not made for pack.

When she woke up in these dreams, she was greeted as family, not simply companion, her pack milling about her, snuffling at the dirt crafted by their minds and licking affectionately at her face. The five of them push and nudge at each other, pleased that the earth now shifts under five sets of paws rather than four.

When they looked up, the moon shone down on them, cradling her children in her distant grasp. They shared a howl, sounding more numerous than five in every shift of their throats. It is a hundred winds, whipping through trees and past rocks. Sometimes they run and in her ears, she can hear thousands of paws joining in on their journey, packmates that have come before her and those that have yet to come.

Tonight though, they hunt. In this form, she is graceful, knowing what to do with her limb. It is almost a dance, the way they know exactly where to move with only a flick of an ear or a glance. When it is over, the hunt ending with blood filling their mouths and meat filling their bellies, they lay down together. Their breath mists in the cool arm and she thinks, mournfully, of the morning when this skin will fall away and leave her naked once more.

When she wakes Ends in Blood is pressed against her side; she thinks that she can almost smell the hunt on them. That was what he was named for after all.  

[Amorpheous]

Your Username: Amorpheous
Other Party's Username: Minsuil
Your Wolf:
Other Wolf:  

[Huni Pi]

Your Username: Huni Pi
Your Wolf:
Prompt Reply: When Sheen sleeps that night, it is to the weight of another kimeti's head resting on his neck and the soft sough of breathing in his ear. He cherishes the contact, the intimacy, the trust placed in him, as much as he cherishes his dutiful familiars standing guard over their small rag-tag herd of kin and animals alike.

But rather than deep, uninterrupted slumber, Sheen finds himself roused to not any noise in particular but to the lack thereof. Eyes open to a world of grays, of lights and shadows. It's a world that hasn't been this large since he was a foal. When he tries to rise on all fours he notices the difference, the change in him. His legs end not in one solid hoof but in toes, the separation into individual digits that move practically independent of each other is unnerving. The sensation is thoroughly alien but not entirely unpleasant.

He assesses himself: four legs though shorter than he's accustomed to, one head, two ears, one tail, he can't tell what the state of his horns are but something tells him they're missing.

His ears flick towards a sound: the light panting of one at rest. And when he turns to its source, he finds his wolf familiar, Resolve, staring at him expectantly. It's when Sheen stares back and sees his reflection in his familiar's eyes does he realize he's taken the form of a wolf. He feels no fear, no anger at his transformation, and he can see no sense of distrust or apprehension in the mien of Resolve's body.

Resolve gives a light yip, tilts their head to ask: What are you orders?

Sheen looks to the sky, to the moon that pulls away from its curtain of clouds, and his chest fills with song. He throws his head back into a howl, no words in his mind but feelings and sensations surge and fill every syllable. Resolve joins him in a duet, and they howl long and loud until the echoes die away.

Sheen waits, and waits, and waits. And when his hears pick up a faint answer in the distance, he runs to it. He doesn't order Resolve to follow, the wolf does it of their own accord. Sheen doesn't mind that he and Resolve have much ground to cover, he relishes the feel of the ground, marvels at the difference between hooves and paws. He knows that he must wake eventually from this dream but until then, he will cherish this moment.  

[Maxx D]

Your Username: Maxx D
Your Wolf:
Prompt Reply: He was here somewhere. He could sense him, even though he was so very good at that. The scene was serene, for now, a swamp expanse dotted by brush and half-submerged.

He was here somewhere, Lying in Wait.

When he lowered his head to take a cautious step, he was almost surprised by the view of a paw. Another step - another paw. He was almost surprised, but strangely at home - Smile More was not a stranger to different facades, and this was merely a different form. A wolf, why not? Perhaps he could track his pet predator instead. Or perhaps, he could bait him instead.

He started jauntily padding over to a clean pool of water, fastidiously cleaning the mud off his little claws - how novel it seemed, as he licked between the toes absently. His eyes were scanning the terrain, since there were only so many bushes that his sneaky pet - companion - could be in.

Perhaps Smile More had appeared too keen. There was no movement in the leaves.

He straightened up, shaking the water off his thick fur, and casually started to browse through the foliage, pretending to eat.

Still no movement.

He started to nibble down the hedges, tasting from each cluster. He stopped letting his eyes wander, and instead, mindfully turned his gaze purely to the mossy green.

A rustle. Was his ears pricking? He wasn't sure. He flicked them experimentally and stuck his snout into the bush.

Another rustle. He waited for what seemed an interminable silence, and pulled his face out to turn around.

A shadow loomed on the ground he glimpsed, quickly expanding as a dark wolf leapt from behind the brush and descended straight into him.

In the ambush, Smile More thought, his wolf seemed bigger than he remembered. His heart beat faster - as his head snapped round to view his companion - friend - he could see the predatory instinct in his eyes...

...and the playful flop of tongue as he pounced.

As they rolled and wrestled, Smile More snuck in a few severe bites: this is for the mongoose you didn't share, he barked, and this for inappropriately sniffing at that doe!

They separated when the mud weighed their coats down, and he lay on his side, breathing heavily, with a grin. b*****d, he growled.

He was a Kimeti again the next time Lying in Wait bit his rump.  

[Jun D]

Your Username: Jun D
Your Wolf:
Prompt Reply: Standing Still is next to him - as her namesake, standing still. Her eyes are soft and warm; she is light on her toes, she is waiting. She is waiting for him. He unfolds, rises on silent paws, and pads over, tail gently swishing. When she takes off, he follows right behind.

This is the way it should be.

They run. Through wet marshes they run, nose to tail, sending long sprays splashing out behind them, sinking imprints into soft mud and silt. Sometimes it is not marshes, sometimes sand, hot to the touch and then cool like moon kisses. Sometimes it is tender grass, sometimes the icy crunch of frosted snow. Sometimes it is only darkness, forever and ever and ever. It doesn't matter what they run through, they just run.

When they reach the end of the world, it is abrupt, and she stops with a grace he tries to match. There is nothing but from the scents around them he can tell there is everything at once – when she throws her head back and howls, she is not alone.

He doesn't like to say too much, but this is different; he closes his eyes and joins the pack.


Your Username: Jun D
Your Wolf:
Prompt Reply: What took you so long? is what she'd have said, if she were still a mare. But she is a wolf, and so what comes out is a roll of her shoulders as she rounds on the caiman. So Soft gives the barest flick of a tail, darting in to lunge a decisive bite. They are used to this. Used to each other. Perfect.

The battle is hard, the caiman large and deceptively quick. They dart and lunge, lunge and dart, sometimes snarling, mostly silent. It would have been made easier with the rest of the pack, but this is not a prey for dogs. It is only the two of them, but that is enough. They fight as one – one heart, two tearing jaws.

The battle is long, but the triumph supreme. The blood that rains is hot and thick, sharp and delicious in the air. They exchange proud glances, but that is all – the outcome had never been in question, to feast was celebration enough. They bring it home to the pack.

Where is it, she asks about, puzzled, after she wakes, a mare again but not really, where is the caiman? We got it yesterday, So Soft and I.  

[Maxx D]

Your Username: Maxx D
Other Party's Username: Jun D
Your Wolf:
Other Wolf:  

[thyPOPE]

Your Username: thyPOPE
Your Wolf:
Prompt Reply: When Hides Among Wolves falls asleep, he is surrounded by family. It's nearing the hot season in the swamp, and he finds himself thinking of his parents' cold homelands. He's heard of them only in stories. They sleep apart, but in the same clearing: his mother and his father facing each other, Hindsight above them, and Landmark keeping pace with a light foot. Brother curls into his side despite the sweltering heat.

They are family, after all, he thinks, when he wakes and finds only Brother. He is not concerned: because his parents are family. They'll always gravitate toward each other again. Anyway, they have breakfast to find, or something, and his wolf - his Brother - Brother is much larger than he'd remembered.

He touches his forehead to Brother's and is surprised to find that it is soft.

Of course it is soft, he thinks, but -

Brother pulls himself to his feet, his bright gaze wary. He tosses his wet nose into Hides Among Wolves' neck, and Hides Among Wolves responds almost on instinct: he pushes Brother onto the ground and holds him there, face to face. Everything feels so sensitive this morning. He hears a trickle of water and scents the air - it feels...cold. The scents seems subdued, and yet Hides Among Wolves feels like he's never smelled pine so intensely or the chill so bitingly, and of course he's never thought that Brother gave off such a distinctive - he looks around. The world around him is grey and white and soaking, dirty snow piled up on boulders and soil wet with dew, perhaps.

This is not where they fell asleep last night, he thinks, and Brother rolls again to his feet and begins to lope away easily.

This, at least, is normal. Hides Among Wolves gives chase. They're running toward the water, and abruptly he realizes, looking down at his pawed, clawed feet...

No. Brother's face stretches strangely when he hears Hides Among Wolves give pause, his tail giving a gentle thump between his legs, and he turns back easily and rubs his side up against his - his brother's.

Hides Among Wolves has never been the fierce one, the silent killer. He hunts to eat well but has always been content with life in a little pack: not gentle, but not vicious, like his perhaps too-precocious siblings can be. But then, he thinks - but then, being a wolf is not always hunting. Being a wolf means pack, a family who'll run by his side. Together, they can conquer anything.

Even this mountain-cold. It's time to eat, isn't it? It'll be different, in this body, but his teeth are sharper now, and they can work more precisely, even if they'll be missing his sheer strength.

That's okay. They'll adapt.

Your Username: thyPOPE
Your Wolf:
Prompt Reply: Not much fazes Three Nights. There's the thing: she's always been a good scout because she always figures out a way to land on her feet. Even when she's been left for dead.

And she hasn't been now, has she? She curls her sharp, sharp teeth into a grin, and Landmark's ears flick forward, ever alert for something to threaten. Right - she has the body, but not the instincts. She lets loose a yipping bark and plunges herself into the swampwater. It's an ordinary day. She had been thinking sweet fish, first. When they've eaten, they can play. And, perhaps, avoid Three Nights' mate - he'll certainly not be pleased, although she knows she's recognizeable.

At night when they've had enough of playing tag and their bellies are full, she and Landmark lay down side by side. Ordinarily Landmark makes for a better bodyguard than companion - sharp-eyed, always weary. Tonight Landmark lets Three Nights' canine tongue make her thick coat sleek and vibrant. They fall asleep together.

When they wake there is Wolf Skull and there is Hindsight, and Three Nights is a totoma again, but Landmark is pressed up against her. Here she'd thought she'd known her wolf...but you can always stand to learn.  

[thyPOPE]

Your Username: thyPOPE
Other Party's Username: anemosagkelos
Your Wolf:
Other Wolf:  

[Huni Pi]

Your Username: Huni Pi
Other Party's Username: N/A (mystery breeding)
Your Wolf:
Other Wolf: Mystery breeding  

[Amorpheous]

Your Username: Amorpheous
Your Wolf:
Prompt Reply:

Sometimes when she dreams, she is alone; sometimes the entire pack is with her. This time, only Lights the Night stands with her when her eyes open. They are pressed comfortably together, side by side, breath misting in the night. There is no impetus to run or to hunt, and sometimes, in these dreams, it feels like Running will finally have the eternity in this skin that she craves; however, as soon as the thought crosses her mind, her body remembers that this is finite, this is just a dream, and when she wakes she will stand above her faithful companion once again.

Lights the Night senses her sudden sorrow and nudges her gently, nose to cheek. There is nothing they can do, nothing to be done; all dreams must end after all. They have this night though, like Running has had since her very first dream where they had run as a pack, the sound of blood and paws thumping in their ears. Lights the Night came later, but now it seems as if she was always there. Another nudge, a flick of a tail and a few bounds away, Lights the Nights beckons Running to follow.

They’ll walk tonight, enjoy being wolves.

So they go, following instinct and nothing more. They tussle, roll in the mud, and press their noses, their paws, against tree and rock. They feel the give of their bodies, the tension of their muscles, as only wolves can feel as they climb higher and higher, getting closer and closer to the moon in the sky.

When they can climb no higher, they settle onto the ground against each other and howl. They howl because there is joy in being wolves and sorrow in the knowing that this is a dream. They howl until they fall asleep and when they wake, they are still side by side.  

[Amorpheous]

Your Username: Amorpheous
Other Party's Username: Jun D
Your Wolf:
Other Wolf: