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Calico
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Yeah, so basically I'd like only nova mountain replies. This is meant only to be a minor confrontation.
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In the short time that Calico had taken up residence within the Creek pack, rumors twisted his opinion of the Nova Mountain pack nearby. He didn’t actually understand what had sparked the tension between the two packs, but for obvious reasons, the black and white was heavily biased in one direction. Setting out to settle his curiosity, the large brute’s long legs quickly carried him beyond creek borders. Everything about him seem calm and collected; his pace was fluid and graceful, despite the face that his burly frame was rugged and worn from earlier days.
Large paws fell heavily into the Nova Mountain territory; pace slowing to a walk -- crown low, tail down. The chilly air was fresh at the base of the mountain where the land was attempting to recover from wildfire. He could see where the trees were trying to make a comeback, young limbs sprouting from the charred remains. With fall over and winter well on the way, the growth had stopped; progress had been suspended until spring rain stirred Earth from a snowy slumber. Whatever, Calico didn’t have time to waste on the foliage, he was on a mission: seek out a Nova Mountain wolf and discover the root of evil.
However, the black and white wolf was in no mood to continue frolicking up the side of the enormous mountain, so he remained on the lower portions of the territory and waited for them to come to him. With previous tension in the atmosphere, it didn’t suspect it to be long before a scout arrived to inspect his rival presence. Tawny-rimmed ears pivoted on his finely crafted skull. Chances were, Nova wolves were already aware of him. Calico was prepared for several to get the jump on him, or so he thought.
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This post has been edited by Calico on Nov. 23, 2006 - 3:24pm
like i need to defend my own innocence
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Bronx
Præfectus
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Lucky that border patrol didn’t always involve the borders.
Bronx was walking in his same elegant and rangy stride through the centre of the territory, but appeared nearer the outskirts than the main bulk of Nova Mountain. The lower recesses were now where his den lied; ever since Styx had passed away (along with any potential medical assistance through the winter concerning the scar on his foreleg) and the season had grown colder, the Præfectus had found himself a den of lower altitudes that was generally richer and more spacious anyway.
So in the last few weeks he was becoming more a frequent visitor to Nova’s lower portions, and that was when he spotted the trespasser. Naturally, he moved towards the wolf swiftly and smoothly, confronting him immediately. In a flash of thought, Bronx summed up the stranger as a physical being: he was big and heavy, but not as tall and long as Bronx and probably not as experienced. An easy battle, as he was subconsciously aware of. “Nova Mountain and your pack are not on good terms,” he immediately informed the stranger (in case the trespasser were to plea ignorant) as he drew nearer in a firm, deep and toneless voice; “you need to turn back at once.”
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Calico
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He was, to say the least, surprised when greeted by a wolf bigger than himself. Still getting a feel for the general population of the valleys, Calico’s only experience was with wolves that were smaller -- if only by a few inches. His head lifted quickly; a reaction to the black male’s sudden arrival, perhaps the wrong action when standing on rival territory. He corrected himself, though ears remained cupped towards the dark stranger whose emotionless voice stirred only an empty grunt from the creek wolf, “I gathered that earlier,” he commented briskly, a flick of his tail and an unimpressed sigh following shortly.
The black-browed wolf was disappointed that his exploration would be interrupted and put to death before it could really begin. Frustration stirred in his mind; spreading and overwhelming his conscious. Twisted thoughts made him sneer while images of a vicious attack played out in his imagination. However, Calico stood still save for the occasional twitch of his lips or flick of his ears, and watched the darker male through wickedly curious eyes. “But not the why,” he added abruptly, finishing his previous statement.
Calico was uncomfortable with the idea of turning his back to the black male. Trust was of the issue. And for the ebony wolf, he had none. In fact, not a single canine had earned the Creek wolf’s faith. Shifting, Calico stepped to the side, preparing to slowly stroll his way out of the Nova Mountain spread. Perhaps if he went quietly, he could go without bloodshed, and yet the pumpkin eyed male didn’t make it more than four steps before stopping. Ears back, he listened. Nothing in his posture said “let’s just be friends;” he was too proud to surrender.
For a moment, everything in the world around him was silent. Eyes gazed at a small rock; though if asked about it later he wouldn’t be able to recall its shape or color. His attention was focused elsewhere: a black wolf six feet behind.
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like i need to defend my own innocence
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Bronx
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First impressions had already been made. Bronx saw the stranger in a professional light; it was a trespasser and a Silver Creek wolf at that. The trespasser was simply not welcome here – it was easy to understand. Not welcome to walk, to talk, to question, to demand, to breathe… to do anything. However, this impression soon moved to something more personal – Bronx now officially thought that the male before him was another one of those mental retards. And, judging by what the stranger had just done, he was 100% correct.
The stranger had sighed in exasperation and, despite slight submission (what was the point of submission if your intentions were otherwise?), gave off an extremely arrogant impression what with his sneering and obvious questioning. “Ah,” he followed darkly, a deadpan sarcasm evident in his low voice, “so you knew that our packs were on very bad terms so decided to come over here, trespass and sneer in our faces – well, Silver Creek sure is lucky to have such clever footsoldiers.” Bronx moved a dangerous step forward. “If you want questions answered, you do not barge straight into enemy lines. You’re lucky you’re not dead already – I’m lenient. But not for long. I tell you for the second time – leave.” His fierce eyes glared at the suicide march unblinkingly.
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Calico
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Calico felt heavily undercut; odds at two - one with the black and white being the underdog. Fairytales of the underestimated becoming heroes filtered in and out of his imagination and he couldn’t help smiling faintly. Yet, this was no wonderland -- the other’s voice was a stale reminder. Right ear back and crown turned slightly, the creek wolf listened without interest. In one ear and out the other; and it was probably for the best since the burly male was avoiding any bloodshed.
He was insulted to be lectured on right and wrong, but his only response was an agitated twitch in his upper lip. A sigh was released. Long and heavy, it was icing on the cake which made saliva pool in his mouth. Resistance was futile. Pink tongue snaked from his waxy lips, sliding down the left side of his maw before he grunted as if clearing his throat for the chuckle that rippled in his chest. Calico smothered the laughter and took a few defiant steps back towards Silver Creek. Suspecting that he would be followed until clear of the mountain borders, he took his time to smell the roses along the way.
His nose skimmed just above the ground. So many interesting sights and smells were to be had, including the stench associated with the nova wolves. One in particular caught his attention. He wasn’t surprised to find the black wolf’s odor lingering on the lower parts of the mountain, and a worn path made him almost squeal in delight. He circled tightly and at one point, with one foreleg suspended, he carefully inspected a paw print before disturbing it with his own. He wanted to follow the trail; wanted to see the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Pumpkin eyes gazed back, obviously judging whether or not his curiosity could even be satisfied. So far, he’d only made it about a third of the way out of Nova Mountain.
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like i need to defend my own innocence
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Bronx
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Startled as your brevity
Turned to my longevity
Bronx was suddenly immensely impressed by the stranger’s cool and calm confidence and amusement that made him seem extraordinarily clever. Obviously, this was some inner-sarcasm. Acting not like a child, as the trespasser was, Bronx was not moved by the other male’s drooling laughter and arrogant little smirks; he was not going to boil over and come tumbling after him. The male’s ridiculous attitude had nothing to do with him; it was the fact that, when the fool finally did turn his tail and flee, he “fled” very slowly indeed.
So Bronx, of course, followed. In a flash, he was at the other male’s side and, in another flash, his teeth were out and he aimed for the other’s muzzle. Get your head out your ass and back over that border, he hissed, and you can forget your happy little fairy route… run. Straight over that border and back to Silver Creek, or you’ll have no head left to smirk with.
I can't follow your steps I must forge my own path
Can't go the places you went Overcome & surpass
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Calico
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Calico was no stranger to sneak attacks and filthy words laced with intimidation. He was a listener. The brute thought some instances out a little better than his jaunt across the Nova Mountain borders. Swiftly sidestepping, he took his muzzle just out of reach from the ebony’s snapping fangs. Upper lip curled in instinctual defense, a sideways glare fixed briefly on the attacker’s muzzle. He wanted to rush back at the black wolf, canines bared and crushing jowls aiming for the kill, but there would be no use in it now. His actions had placed him several feet away from the Nova wolf, pondering which of the two was the wiser.
His judgment was influenced but the sudden remedy compiled by the ebony wolf in attempt to scare Calico off his territory. The wolf was nothing more than a power hungry fool now; just a maggot on a rotting carcass hoping only to get bigger, spout wings and annoy any animal that crossed his path. “Foolish,” he insisted with a rough, low voice and then turned quickly; deported back across the boundaries by border patrol. Melting snow clung to his fur, swept off the low tree branches when he passed under them. He’d never understand the ways of the world, especially not in this lifetime. How could he? Calico had come to Nova Mountain on a mission; a set goal in his mind. But now his opinion of the mountain pack was tainted with personal chemistry.
Far from the happy ending of a romance novel, Calico’s pace changed as he crossed the scented wall. He felt weighed down and shook his thick coat to relieve the pressure. Particals of dust and debris floated on the atmosphere briefly before settling onto neutral soil. And he continued on, a glimmer of satisfaction in his pumpkin colored eyes. More than likely he’d be back.
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like i need to defend my own innocence
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Bronx
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Startled as your brevity
Turned to my longevity
Life was full of amusement. This time, it was – as often flew across Bronx’s path – the arrogance of a stranger. The fact that somehow the trespasser thought it clever to spit out the word “foolish” before he was on his merry way; that somehow that did some good to the situation or made Bronx feel threatened. No; all it did was inflate the stranger’s ego, no doubt; it was surprising that it had not yet burst. As expected (and indeed planned, since Bronx thought many times before spilling blood in situations that were more political), his fangs missed their “mark” and, also as planned, the stranger was soon legging it into the distance.
Bronx watched for a while, eyes blazing. Then he turned and moved back to border patrol where he would be able to watch the Silver Creek wolf until he was well out of sight. Creek was slowly becoming a word of poison in Bronx’s mind.
I can't follow your steps I must forge my own path
Can't go the places you went Overcome & surpass
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