Wendigo was in a much better mood as he meandered through - right through - the border of some dinky southern pack, stopping only when he was several feet past the border. Well, why wouldn't he be in a better mood? Having made the decision to get on with things, to start pushing envelopes and buttons and getting known, he felt more himself inside his shiny, lovely skin. Of course he'd picked this pack at random, knowing nothing at all about it, and that's how he'd pick the next too, and the next and the next, until he'd worked his way through every pack on both continents or been captured, whichever happened to come first.

And then the real work would start.

But for now... the harassment phase, and it would start out here with this podunk town he'd never heard of. Cool.

Humming to himself, he systematically began to mark a new "border" inside the real border. A Wendigo-border, a metaphorical line in the sand, then flopped down inside this new "territory" - we'll call it Wendigo-land - and waited, casually cleaning and sharpening the metal claws on his forepaws.

Hattori was getting old; felt it the worst first thing in the morning. Heaving himself out of the den never used to be something he had to think about or put any degree of effort into. But his joints clicked, his old shoulder injury was acting up more and more as of late- he wasn't overly concerned, but he certainly didn't like it. Though fair few wolves enjoyed getting old, he presumed, even if they did so gracefully.

And speaking of grace, there was a marked lack of it to the North of Tojo's territories. Hattori- like every wolf- didn't have a keen, all knowing sense of whatever was going on within his territory, but he did have a nose. And piss stank, carried on the wind like a rancid alarm call.

Hattori had no questions to ask, no accusations in mind as he charged north with companions in tow. He did not call for back up, though he knew full well the others would have come to his aid if he'd asked. This was something he was intent on dealing with on his own, and even with his older age he was still very much capable of doing so.

Barrelling onto the scene, he knew his brash approach was more than loud enough to give himself away, that there would be no sneak attack or guarantee this would end in his favour. But what else could he do? Such insolence couldn't be left unchallenged, his pride would not stand for it.

Intending to make the first strike, Hattori used his forward momentum to hurl himself forward. Their builds were both about the same, but even without a size advantage on his side, being hit by something fast would always hurt more than something slow. Something something physics. His jaws snapped, as he made to muzzle grab the stranger, only for his own speed to work against him, his attack not quiet as accurate as he'd intended.

Hanzō vs Wendigo for maim (sick arse eyebrow scar yo!)
Round 1/2
Age: over 1
Size: Dire wolf
Build: Balanced
Offensive Battle Accessory: Tanto
Defensive Battle Accessory: Shinobi cuirass
Companion 1: Asian Golden Cat, Male - Battle - Boosted
Companion 2: Mountain hawk-eagle, Male - Battle - Boosted
*Companion 3: Akita, Male - Battle - Boosted
Mutation 1: Enhanced vision - Perception
Mutation 2: Antelope horns - Offensive
Mutation 3: Reinforced bones - Defensive
Skills: Master Fighter & Master Hunter
Specialty: Bloodletter

Wendigo was comfy and secure in his new territory as the sound of feet crashing through underbrush reached him, and he turned a smug, pursed lipped smile towards the sound, slipping his claws back on. Awww, was someone mad? Poor baby. He stood. Faced the approaching wolf. Took a breath to declare his sovereignty over this patch of earth within the pack's territory. Mouth began to form welcome to Wendigo-land. But the wolf didn't stop to do any of the usual bluster and threat, but kept coming. Wendigo barely had time to set himself, to splay his stance and dig in, before the black and orange tornado hit him. His breath left him in a grunt, pain blossoming hard where his shoulder caught the other wolf's charge. He jerked his face away from slashing jaws. A snarl tore loose when the teeth caught his face anyway, a searing pain over his left eye where they met in his brow, piercing through raggedly. "You," he panted in a low growl, pushing back against the male, hard, "are tresspassing," he lifted a forepaw and lashed out with the metal claws towards the meaty side of the male's shoulder, "in Wendigo-land." He lolled his tongue out, bloody where one of his own fangs had clipped it when he was hit, and sought to lave it over Hattori's eyes.


Wendigo vs Hattori for maim (wicked shoulder scars)
Round 1/2
Age: over 1 year
Size: Dire wolf
Build: Balanced
Offensive Battle Accessory: Gauntlets with Steel Claws
Defensive Battle Accessory: Elk Skull Helm
Mutation 1: Saber Teeth - Offensive
Mutation 2: Scales - Defensive
Mutation 3: Cat Eyes - Perception
Skills: Advanced Fighter & Advanced Hunter