Fel trekked the mountain range, hearing the padding of her creature behind her. And yet, in the presence of the other, she spoke not a word. The only noise from her that could be distinguished between the gusts of wind that tousled her fur were the light click of her claws on stone and the rugged humming of a marching tune. It was sung mainly on one’s way to death or honor in battle, but Fel happened to treasure the tune. She was the epitome of a stoic personality – unphased by happiness or grief. For an hour or so they walked, unhurried but not ambling. And then, on the graveled slope of the mountain, she stopped.  With an expert hop, she calmly slid down to the ledge below, legs angled in such a way where she would not topple over. The gravel did scratch her paws slightly, but they were much too rugged to be badly hurt.


She huffed, skidding to a stop. She would wait for her pupil to join her before growling out the orders. They were plain and simple. “Now then, creature… Fight me.” Immediately, a snarl erupted from deep within her throat and her tail rose like a banner into the cold, harsh air. She was balanced on her paws, firm yet mobile. Her muscles, like a finely tuned machine of war, rippled rhythmically in a preparedness to counter whatever may be thrown at her. This would be their first true, full-on spar, and her apprentice was ready for it. She needed the experience with fighting large wolves, and Fel was about as large as they get.

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Their trek today took them to the neutral lands open to all members of all packs. The dingo hadn't travelled here before. She went where her mistress commanded, but perhaps a little adventure would be good for her. As a little pup she'd always been adventurous, getting herself into all kinds of dangerous situations. She used to scuffle with her siblings or beg her parents for more stories. She loved stories, she loved learning about their history. The entertainment it provided was also exciting. On their way Fel hummed a tune which seemed unlike her, so Narla knew there had to be meaning behind it. Narla was happy to walk and simply listen, head and tail swaying with the music. She might have liked to join in if she had known the song but guessed Fel preferred not to discuss it. They reached the edge and Fel, without missing a beat, popped herself over the edge. The warrior knew the other female wouldn't bring her out here just to have her watch her suicide - that wasn't Fel's style. Fel was a fighter, she'd die on the battlefield if ever. Narla watched her mentors descent before making her own plunge. A quick jump off the edge and sliding through the gravel down the slope. She leaned back on her haunches, practically sitting, to balance herself. Her claws were mostly healed after her faults on the ice, but they still stung a bit as they sliced through weak stone. She realigned herself as she reached the bottom, keeping herself upright. She shook the dust from her fur and sat waiting for her mistress to give her plan. Fight me. Narla smirked, holding back a laugh. On her home continent that had been a friendly challenge used multiple times daily. Of course Fel wouldn't know, or care, about any of that. This was a real challenge. Narla immediately lowered herself into a fighting stance, tensing muscles in preparation while she scanned the area for any help. She might as well start simple - best not to use her best move. She ran forward towards the Beta, feinting right before sliding left and lunging up at the much larger female, intending a swift bite to the jugular. Her frame was already small but she kept her tail and ears down, making it just a little smaller.

Fel waited, eyes trained on her creature. But they weren’t blindly trained, no. Her icy gaze held the other analytically. What were the things she could do? Fel didn’t imagine she knew anything masterful, but didn’t leave it an impossible thing. As the other ran, she craned her neck, protecting what was most precious. As a rule, she never folded her ears. That was for the weak to perform, and for the stupid to go for. Fel watched, watched each paw step. Eyes could give much away, but this was gravel. Gravel told all. And oh how boring everything was. A fake side charge. The mentor expected better. The second she slid, with that awful sound of churning gravel, Fel turned to meet her. She never made counterattacks until the last second she could afford, right when it is most convenient. But the brutish fae did not turn her open maw to the other… No. Too boring, and Fel would play this defensively. Instead, Fel jutted forward to meet her with her shoulder directly at her, sacrificing it instead. There was a sharp stabbing where her creature’s teeth pierced her hide, but her skin was as thick as her fur, so it would take some tearing to do a major wound. How pleasant, how sweet and comforting it felt! The connection was made.  The lunge had been upward, since it had been aimed at her neck. This was all Fel had wanted for it. And then, connected, Fel bore herself down at a sharp angle, intending to, with all of her strength and her weight, bear the dingo down onto the rocks and drag her across the gravel. The pain would flood her shoulder, and Fel would chuckle with a dark happiness at it.

“Marrrrvelous,” purred he, the executioner of the weak. The words rolled off of his tongue like milk… No… Like blood. He picked up his catch, a mountain hare, with a large clawed paw and held it before him in the air. His steely eyes stared, without blinking or swaying, at the puncture wounds left by his teeth. With a sudden snort, he threw it away, and it landed behind him with the lightest of a thump. With a slow glance over his shoulder, he chuckled, “Thumpity thump. You’re the same alive and dead. The same useless, brainless morsel that is half-worth the effort put into finding you. But alas, thumpity thump, your name is your own demise!” He rose to a crescendo in his monologue, cackling wildly. But then, after a second, he stopped. His laughter, blown away by the wind, was replaced by the sounds of a distant padding of large paws. “Oh dear me, this should be wonderful!”

With deliberate, silent steps he snuck up to the two wolves as they had just begun the fight. Or… were they wolves? One was certainly a wolf, but the other seemed more like a mutated coyote. Strange. Intriguing. “Maybe she will taste even sweeter than a coyote. They are much too gamey,” he whispered to himself thoughtfully. Then, with another glance at the larger wolf, he added, “She would seem too old and stale. Her meat would not be as delightful. But mummy told me it isn’t polite to waste food. She will be second.” He thought for a moment, glancing back at the heights from which he came. The rabbit! Oh well. Mother would be disappointed. Tsk tsk. But he would bring back more for himself. That’s all she wanted for him, after all… Not to starve, that is. With a pompous purr, he hopped down to them, blatantly interrupting whatever it was that they were trying to prove amongst their races. “Pardon me, but I was told that it is rude to show up at a guest’s palace uninvited, let alone without a…small morsel. A ssssnack, if you will. I’m sorry to announce that I shall have to take one of you, and you, elder wolf, are far too disgustingly near death to eat. I’ll take her, and don’t you interfere.” With the end of that cheerful dialogue, he trained his eyes on the dusty thing. A huge grin rose upon his face, and his orbs glowed with a wild, insane fire. Claws out, he wiggled his haunches and built up his power for a pounce.

Success. She felt the large wolfs flesh give way beneath her jaws, compressing like a sponge. It was far too easy. Narla knew she was playing her weak moves first, saving the best for last so this shouldn't have worked on Fel - a far more experienced fighter. Why had it been so simple? The dingo had been about to remove herself from her mentor when it became all too clear. The close quarters left the smaller animal trapped and at the mercy of her larger, far more brutish opponent. The Beta toppled her, throwing the little Australian down onto her back, pinning her with her crushing weight. Narla could feel her lungs being slowly crushed, the air forced from her body. As it escaped it took with it the sound of pain, an involuntary whine slipping through her teeth. She wriggled and squirmed, trying desperately to relieve herself of the pressure as the gravel was quickly digging into her back - though not enough to do any damage. She strained and strained against the larger beast, hearing a heavy thump somewhere, like an animal had just landed after a descent from a significant height. Pointed ears swivelled madly, the sound alerting her instinct for danger. Fel let her up, sending air rushing back into her lungs. It set Narla panting for just a few moments, as if she'd forgotten how to breathe and had to learn again. The Warrior was quick to roll onto her belly and stand, flanking her superior, marking the clearly visible threat that spoke to them. At her Beta's word she gave a terse nod and lunged forth. This creature was much bigger than her, bigger than even Fel. A frontal attack would do no good, she had to be quick, constantly moving. She darted forward, snapping at the creatures forelegs, and jumped back again. She ducked right, darting in to snap at its left hind leg, and jumped back again. Then around the back, hoping to tug on its tail before scurrying away once more. She didn't care if any of her blows landed, they just had to keep the thing on its toes.

Fel was at first pleased with her counterattack, but a moment later she would only be annoyed. It would have gone perfectly, had the creature not been so small and light. Skidding her on her back across the ground proved too easy, and the brutish wolf’s hind leg slid out backwards across the gravel, making her fall directly onto the exposed underside of her trainee. The fall landed her dingo’s tiny hindpaw buried directly in her gut, drawing out a pained grunt from the stabbing sensation of her own body weight on the small surface area. In return, she snarled and, with a slight scramble in the rear as well as repetitive and rhythmic grunts, continued to push them along the rocks until a guest showed up.

Or rather, according to him, they were the guests and he the unlikely host. It wasn’t overly surprising to see a cougar in these lands. Fel halfway expected it, as she had seen traces of their inhabitation before. With a glare of dissatisfaction, she got up from her whining warrior to address the feline threat properly. The clearly deranged fiend said he wanted Narla and not her and, Fel had to admit, there was no better arrangement. She dipped her head to the cat and chuckled cynically, “Well then, foe of ours, have at her. If you win, you will have rid me of an obligation.” Pausing, she inspected her shoulder. The bite-mark was steadily oozing blood but was nothing serious: just her thick skin, and not her muscle. With a wicked smirk, Fel looked to the tawny creature that was her pupil and rumbled, “Kill it, and you’ll have a week off from training. It’s idiotic, but stronger and faster than you. Keep that in mind. Off you go.” The beta then stepped aside and sat down. She had of course made it seem like she would simply allow the duel to go about unmediated, but this was far from true. The muscles rippled tensely under her thick, masking coat. Though what she said to the cougar wasn’t entirely false. She could just leave the little thing to die here, and never have to worry about her again. But a beta would never do that, and neither would Fel.

Annoyance ran down his spine in a shiver as he waited for the she-wolves to stop wrestling and surrender to his glorious jaws. That was what he called them. His mother said he needed to stop with his flowery language and strange behavior, but he would always just purr in amusement in response. She would shake her head with a sigh. What a failure, she would murmur. But today he would dine on fine dingo meat of a rare sort. As the meal ran towards him, he prepared to pounce… But then he reconsidered.

The thing ran at his paws, and he jumped back roughly to avoid the jaws. He frowned, whiskers drooping. How was it that such fine creatures tried such low-life attacks? Before he knew it, the thing was launching at his hind paws, which he swiveled around to protect. The bite that landed was no more than a nip, but it angered him. When the tail was the target, he snarled and, with his cat-like reflexes, turned and aimed a heavily armed paw to rake across her tiny, barren side. “Kitty’s had enough of your games now!” He snarled and ran after her, pouncing with claws outstretched for her back once he reached a good aim.

In and out she ducked and wove. Snapping, nipping, yelping. Distractions were everywhere, confusing and angering this feline creature she faced. It was an odd creature she was up against. Narla had seen its like once or twice before. The creature and its kin was the opposite of all wolves. It's was far more flexible and cunning where a wolf was solid, square and loyal. A paw was flung out by the thing, claws extended. She felt the heavy weight smack into her side before the lancing pain of sharp claws marred her side and sent her reeling. Her small body slammed into the rocks at the base of the slope they had only recently descended. The dingo scrambled painfully to stand, to make her fight with this creature one with dignity. She would not die without a fight if that was to be the outcome of this affair. The creature rounded on her, snarling something that the ringing in her ears made it impossible to hear. So quickly it all happened that the beast was upon her and a sharp blow cracked across the back of her head before the world went black.


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((If there are any typos in this or the next 8 posts, please forgive them.))

Fel watched the fight escalated from zero to ten in a matter of seconds, eyes wide and observant. Narla was foolish, but so was Fel. She had known the dingo would stand no chance. But when the puma slammed her pupil onto the ground, the launching of the demon’s muscles was more automatic than they had ever been. Fel would usually pause for a split second, weighing her options. But there was no option here. No doubt. She could not watch Narla die.

With a snarl, she slammed herself against the beast. He was taller, stronger, and heavier but she was large enough to knock him off. The foolish cat had been staring and salivating on her prized student, who really was so much more. The slam took her breath away but would be enough to check if Narla was still alive. And though she was unconscious, there was still a slight breathing pattern that shifted her ribs. So long as Fel lived, Narla would not die at the maw of this menace. Hackles raised (for once), she bellowed a snarl to the cat in a way that echoed across the mountains. “For every drop of blood she bleeds, you’ll pay with your own flesh.” She stepped over the limp figure and dashed at the cat while he was down, seeking to grab the higher end of his scruff. She reared up with it in her jaws and then fell entirely, using a bit of extra muscle in her neck to slam his face into the gravel.

That was the cougar: victorious. He landed squarely atop the little beastie’s back, with a triumphant hiss. How dare she touch his tail? So rude of his snack… so very, very rude! There was nothing to do but kill her for it, yes? But oh he could savor it for just one moment. Mother was wrong. He would be fine tonight. And the tough meat of the old hag in the corner would last him a month. But this succulent chunk of flesh… One’s mouth watered just at the look of it!

Alas, t’was not to be. Not yet. A snarling fury of black fur knocked him off and sent him rolling to the edge of their platform. Furiously rolling his shoulders, he managed to stop the sliding just as his feet came off the edge and met nothing but air. The gravel he had displaced tinkered down pleasantly. “Oh my…” He looked out over the scene, dazed. It really was beautiful. He never understood why mother had left him here all alone… Did she not like the area? His fuzzy thoughts sharpened as reality returned to him, and his sides hurt from the fall. How dare she? Making threats and spoiling dinner? She would be the one to pay. Snarling and hissing, he got up, only to be greeted by a biting hold at his scruff. It was thick and protective, though it made him very uncomfortable and let out a hiss. He swiped his claws viciously at her bulky body, intending fully to land some deep wounds and weaken her. Why would the wolf go for such a useless spot to attack? What was this idiot doing…?

His face flew towards the ground.

Oh.

Pain seared her chest where the claws tore into her, fueling her rage but draining her blood. Driving the cat’s skull into the ground, she let go and darted back slightly, watching him. Fel purposely did not look down at her chest, avoiding seeing the damage. Her own damage was… insignificant. The fight was now, and tending precious wounds would come later. But that did not stop the blood running down her and slowly soaking her fur. Her muscles had been spared, but skin torn badly. But here and now, she waited for the feline to rise, hoping his vision and smell had been damaged significantly… or at least temporarily. When he did dart up with a hissing fury, she rushed in nice and low and aimed for the jugulars. Narla would live if this thing died. Narla couldn’t die. She wouldn’t. She was the only one worth giving a damn about besides their Alpha.

Sharp yowls and screeches filled the air as his unprepared, gorgeous face met the gravel. Something in his nose flooded with agony and blood rushed out. His eyes were struck as well with shards that came up, and his vision temporarily blurred as he was disoriented. Shooting up, he thrashed his head and sent a flurry of claws to protect himself from the attacker who he could not see. They hit nothing at first but then all at once, she was there. His paws felt her before his throat so he darted back, but her fangs caught the skin there anyway. He was caught, and so was she.

So he swung his paws around her shoulders, trying to get a firm hold of her and pull her onto the ground, tearing that patch of fur she held in her mouth in the process. His vision flickered blurrily and he sniffled, having to breathe with his mouth and taste his own blood running down his snout. No matter. She was to die, and he to eat.

The plan both worked and failed. Fel herself had won an inch but given a mile, being pulled onto the ground. She gasped and heaved, the wind simply leaving her lungs at the impact. The chunk of skin she had ripped out fell somewhere beside them, and droplets of blood from both parties splattered her face. Her shoulder was in a great deal of pain, but she was in close quarters with the beast. With a final jolt, a push, a shove: her maw flew outwards and tries to latch onto the jugulars. But she was much weakened now, and her strength ebbed. There was only so far she could reach without making her shoulder worse. Blood was already everywhere. She bit, he thrashed, and she let go. They separated, and Fel rolled with a pained wheeze, trying to catch her breath.

Swiping, mauling, flailing. He cried and roared, letting his voice be heard across the mountain range. The world would feel his fury.

He yowled unhappily at the new fangs. He’s hit! He’s hit! He wailing and moaned, coming out with a slight gargle. The bitch’s fangs had punctured his throat and that was all, but it was too much. He was dying. He felt it now. It hit him. Not in the pain, which caused him to hiss and screech, but in his mind. He pulled away, heading towards the coyote thing. The feline coughed out, “If you can’t win… Make mother proud of your death!” He paused, essentially throwing up blood. It flooded his lungs, not helping the insufficient of oxygen that found its way down his respiratory system. Vision fading, he stumbled towards the limp creature. He would take her with him.

Her vision faltered for a moment, but she knew she was well alive. With the burning, throbbing pain in her shoulder and chest, there was no doubt about that. She blinked away the cougar’s blood, gasping in precious air.

Breathe in, breathe out. Don’t… die.

After a moment, she began to see. And all she saw was the lumbering creature staggering towards her pupil. The limp body was still breathing, for now. The puma approached.

"…no."

Fel wobbled up unreliably and ran, with the strangest gait, towards the target. There was nothing she could really do but hit him with her own mass, and that’s what she did. She tumbled with him then, falling on top of him and his panicked and heaving sides. Knowing he would not get up with her on him, she relaxed and breathed deeply, closing her eyes. She needed more air for a sassy final word to the conquered beast… Conquered by nothing more than his stupidity.

Without reaching his goal, he was knocked over. No, no! He was dying! He needed to take that thing with him! Mother! MOTHER! He screamed, or rather tried to. It came out in a gurgle. He spat the blood from his mouth and groaned out to his killer, “Mother… Mother said I’m…” He hacked, “I’m special.” He tried to move, but couldn’t. It was futile. There was no way he could get up with that thing on him. Besides, his strength was exhausted. He closed his eyes and murmured to himself, “I’m special…” With that thought, he faded into darkness.

Fel, regaining her breathing, rose with a series of grunts and wheezes. The cougar was dead, but they weren’t safe either. The bleeding needed to be suppressed for both parties. Icy eyes darted around, finding a small cave and an array of rocks that looked promising for cobwebs. Fel was no healer, but she knew basic first aid. You lose too much blood; you die. Simple.

She staggered over to there, swiping her broad tail and catching the sticky stuff in thick sheets. The cave was the most bountiful. Thankfully, with the cold weather approaching, all of them were abandoned. She winced as she swatted a firm layer of them across her shoulder with her long banner. The rest were used to treat Narla’s torn side and a bit was saved for her own chest. Fel figured the slight holes on Narla’s back wouldn’t kill her. After resting for a few minutes with her amateur bandages, she rose and rolled the smaller canine onto her back then took the dead cougar by the tail and began to haul them shakily back.

About midway the bandage on her chest peeled off and began to bleed profusely again. Fel had to drop the cougar where it was and hurry back on what strength she had left. Every step shot daggers through her shoulder, and every stride felt like her paws where weighed down with boulders. But Fel made it to the healer’s den. She had passed Desoto on her way there, giving him an order to retrieve her kill (and find his way by her trail of blood). Its pelt would line her den. At the healer’s den, Fel would gently let her pupil down before rising, barking once for them to hurry, and falling over in exhaustion. She slept for the rest of the day.