Rakia advanced cautiously, her eyes tracing the icy landscape and frozen trees that reached out to the sky like skeletal hands. The sun, callous in its cold winter indifference, cast long, harsh shadows across the unforgiving terrain. Her breath formed a veil of white in front of her face every time she exhaled. Every sound in the frozen forest was amplified: the eerie creaking of frozen branches, the faint rustling of leaves encased in ice, her own heartbeat pounding like a war drum in her ears.

She continued her slow trek through the submerged forest, towering trees loomed over her as they worked their way to the water’s edge. She could see their targets in the distance, a pod of walruses lounging on the edge of ice. They would have to be quick. Quick enough to intercept one before it could escape them into the frozen ocean … and careful enough to avoid getting drug below the surface themselves. The walruses lay in a mass of blubber and tusk, their coarse grunting echoed through the stillness of the submerged forest. They were oblivious to the wolves’ presence, their milky eyes squinting against the harsh midday sun, their bodies rolling and shifting in languid comfort. Was this a good idea? Probably not. But that had never stopped her before.

"Rakia Perreau"

Melanth and Helonia were not ones to stay around certain wolves for so long. So to find themselves, once more, within Rakia’s presence only meant one thing. There was a hunt afoot.

Silent steps from light paws found their way along the frozen tundra. Frosty trees loomed overhead. Casting their ominous shadows over the icy earth below. Calls from walruses ahead spilled into the air without fault. Their dumbfounding just as oblivious to what lie closing in. Brown blubber hides easily sliding along to take a dip off the water’s edge. Others remained on the surface to do whatever it was that they did. Either way, Melanth and Helonia moved into position. Creeping to the left of the multi-colored woman. Barely making even the tightest of sounds. A wolf hunting a Walrus was unknown to her. Having never done so herself. Why not do something she’d never done before, right?
"Helonia"~~"Melanth"

He'd been out here before, but not during the dead of winter. Out here, in the barren landscape, the cold seemed to dig its icy fingers deeper into his bones than he'd ever experienced. Not quite his favorite terrain, but he was searching for something to help keep him warm through the chilly nights and enough meat to bring back to the pack. Perhaps if he brought a chunk of something good to the Warlord, it would show he was worth keeping around. That's what pack wolves did, right?

Keeping his stride long, steps steady and calculated, Wilder attempted to be as silent as possible. With the snow more ice than actual snow, its hard to hide the sound of his approach. Every quiet crunch beneath his toes could potentially give his position away. He was going to settle with some Barnacle Geese as their feathers would provide the most comfort and warmth, but the sound of deep grunting closer to the eastern shore caught his attention.

As his vermilion gaze sweeps over toward the walruses, he also notices two female wolves watching carefully as well. They ain't gonna hunt those beasts down themselves, are they? Wilder thinks to himself as he watches the scene for a moment. Maybe they'd like help? Wouldn't hurt to try? The words barely finish in his head before he's off toward pair, continuing his near silent steps with their quiet crunches until he's within whispering distance.

"Hope ya sharpened yer teeth. Their blubber ain' easy to tear," he comments, one brow raised curiously as he looks from the duo to the blubbering beasts that lounge all fat and dumb-like on the shore.

WILDER

He’d taken to a group again, for how long he didn’t know; but here he was prowling in turn with the blush colored woman — and the monochromatic one from the last few hunts. Small world.

He scanned the distance between their hidden spot and the lounging area, calculating the steps, the breaths, the heartbeat it would take to close the gap. The forest was a labyrinth of water and roots, but it was also an ally if used wisely. The walruses were being fat and lazy, having heaved themself’s up onto land.

"Their grunting gives away their position, but it also masks our approach." He spoke carefully, his voice steady and calm; a rumble meant to dance between the ambience and not alert their quarry.

Aristaios' tongue brushed against the sharp points of his teeth, his gaze fixed on the walruses. Watching, waiting. The challenge was one he embraced, and he quite fancied the tusks on some of them…


""

Rakia watched through narrowed eyes, her attention split between the hulking walruses basking on the icy shoreline and her newfound companions. The sound of Wilder's approach had been nearly imperceptible but her ears, finely tuned to the pitch of silence this cold landscape offered, had caught it. She remained still as the mountain, her muscles taut, every fiber of her being radiating a quiet, predator's energy. Her breath ghosted into the frigid air, dissolving almost as soon as it appeared, so fine was the line between seen and unseen in this place.

"Hmm," she hummed noncommittally at Aris' remark, her gaze never leaving the walruses. She had learned from past encounters that these creatures, despite their lazy demeanors, were not to be underestimated. The wounded could be especially dangerous. “I’m more of a fuck around and find out, type of girl.” She said lightly, her voice blending with the frozen wind, adding a note of amusement to the harshness of the environment. The glint in her winter-grey eyes suggested that this was indeed the truth.

She observed as the biggest among the lounging beasts lazily rolled onto its side, its tusks glinting ominously under the mid day sun. Its blubberous body was a massive reserve of energy against the biting cold and its tusks were not just ostentatious accessories, but deadly weapons. Rakia's gaze held steady on those glinting ivory sentinels, making calculations of her own. A frontal assault could be disastrous, but a well-timed strike from the rear, landing a hit on the nape just between the layers of fat and muscle... Rakia's mind was filled with countless scenarios, each one of them ending with the taste of fresh, warm blood staining her tongue.

Rakia flexed her limbs subtly, testing her movements against the slickness of the ice beneath her paws. The chill seeped through her fur, a tangible reminder of the unforgiving territory she was in. Yet there was a fierce satisfaction that pulsed in her veins, one that welcomed the challenge.

The pushed forward, as slowly, as stealthily as they could, and at the last possible moment, she launched herself forward. The world seemed to slow around Rakia as she closed the distance between herself and the walrus. Every detail of her surroundings stood out starkly – from the frost clinging to the submerged trees, sparkling like a thousand tiny diamonds, to the crunching sound of the snow under her paws, so amplified it was like thunder in her ears. The walrus, perhaps aware of its impending doom, stirred slightly. Its two small eyes opened, glistening with a hint of uncertainty. Yet it remained motionless, anchored by its own vastness, and perhaps underestimating the impending threat. Her heart pounded rhythmically in her chest, each beat a drumroll in anticipation of the hunt's climax.

"Rakia Perreau"

"Then let’s fucking find out." He murmured, his voice a low growl blending with the wind. He admired her spirit, the way she embraced the thrill of danger.

His gaze shifted to the largest walrus, its tusks gleaming menacingly. The challenge was clear: a frontal assault was suicide, but a strike to the nape might just do the trick. Maybe if they tired it out, cornered it away from the water. He watched as Rakia moved, and he followed suit. The brutes' muscles coiled, ready to support her attack.

As she launched forward, he moved in tandem, his body a shadow in her wake. The world narrowed to the hunt, the scent of their prey, the cold bite of the air.


""

”And this is why we hunt with her." Helonia had taken front row seat this go round. Melanth choosing to provide help if the situation needed it. Though she highly doubted that Hel would even need any. Their bodies moved as one with Rakia and Aristaios. Her monochromatic coat a perfect shadow along the winter blanket. Her paws slapped the iced snow. Pushing herself to latched onto a piece of the Walrus thick blubber hide.

Teeth sunk into where the spinal cord would have lead to the very start of its tail. If one could even call it such. Such thickness felt completely different from the easy fur of land animals. They did not sink so far into the area. But, she clearly had done some damage as the calls from the beast drew her ears back. The sound piercing through and alerting the others to what was happening.

"Helonia"~~"Melanth"

The words exchanged between the wolves bring a glimmer of a smirk to his charcoal muzzle. Fuck around and find out were just the type of wolves he found best to hang around. His gaze would stay trained on the target before them. Their beady eyes glazed over with pure gluttony as they lounge along the shore. Snorting and blubbering about without a care in the world. Of course, because in their world, the walrus is king. No beast dare to hunt down such a fearsome animal.

Except for a pack of wolves.

Doing his own calculations, he can tell the others have hunted together before. He can see that it would be best to take up the rear and do what he can where he can. Learn their ways, how they hunt as a group, no need to get impatient and try to be the biggest damage dealer. Wilder waits, watching and breathing, flexing and relaxing his muscles until the one girl takes off first.

His vermilion gaze tracks her movements for a moment before he follows her lead. Paws in line with the others, racing ahead, masked by the egregious sounds of the walrus attempting to appear larger and stronger than the others. Wilder notices the others going toward the nape, the spinal cord, the sensitive areas that will quickly lead to its death while avoiding the dangers of its tusks and massive head.

Taking strides toward the rear of the walrus, Wilder lunges forward toward the animal's tail. Paws digging in to keep his balance, head diving forward, teeth sinking into blubber, gnashing and tearing away at the thinner, sensitive skin. If he can take away its balance, render it unable to flop or move around, it would make the other's jobs eaiser.

WILDER

As the skirmish with the walrus unfolded, Rakia watched in rapt attention. The creature was enormous, a behemoth of pure muscle and blubber, its skin tough as stone beneath her sharp teeth. Yet, despite its imposing size and strength, she could see the fear glinting in its beady eyes as it began to come to terms with its ultimate demise. Rakia lunged for the beast as well, aiming for a section of its exposed flank where the skin was softened and vulnerable. Her jaws clamped down with an iron grip, teeth sinking into the flesh as she tore savagely, ripping away a chunk of blubber.

The walrus bellowed in distress, a haunting baritone that echoed through the frozen wood. Rakia's heart pounded within her chest, her blood thrumming with an adrenaline-fueled intensity as she held on tightly, her jaws locked around the walrus’s flesh. The beast thrashed wildly in a desperate bid for freedom, its movements causing a ripple of tremors that reverberated through the icy ground. Rakia planted her paws firmly into the snow-covered ground, her claws digging grooves as she braced against the terrified thrashing of the beast. Every shift of its bulk, every desperate attempt to dislodge her sent vibrations rippling through her. Blood, thick and rich, gushed over her tongue, a briny tang that sent her senses reeling, the harsh cold of the environment momentarily forgotten.

It wouldn’t be much longer now.

"Rakia Perreau"

Aristaios watched intently as the other wolves lunged for the walrus's tail and flank, their collective efforts aimed at overwhelming the massive beast with injuries and bloodloss. Their teeth sank into the thick blubber, ripping and tearing with savage precision. The walrus bellowed in distress, its haunting cry echoing through the frozen wood, but Aristaios remained focused on his own target.

With a powerful leap, he propelled himself over the walrus's back, his body a blur against the icy landscape. His muscles coiled and released in a perfect display of agility and strength, carrying him to the creature's vulnerable nape. The world around him seemed to slow as he honed in on his mark, the scent of blood and fear sharp in his nostrils. His jaws clamped down with crushing force, teeth piercing through the thick skin and sinew. The taste of blood filled his mouth, a briny tang that sent his senses reeling. He held on with savage determination, his powerful frame bracing against the walrus's frantic thrashes.

The other wolves continued their assault, their combined weight and ferocity wearing down the walrus's defenses. Aristaios felt the creature's strength waning, its movements growing weaker with each passing moment. He tightened his grip, his jaws sinking deeper into the nape, determined to end the struggle swiftly.

The walrus's bellows turned to gurgles as its life force ebbed away. Aristaios's powerful jaws crushed through sinew and bone, cutting off the creature's air and hastening its downfall. The walrus's body convulsed in a final, desperate attempt to shake him off, but Aristaios held firm, his grip unbreakable.


""

Their efforts did not go into vain. Each of them having chosen to puncture areas down the Walrus’s spine and tail. A teamwork which had its rewards. Gaze sliding up in time to see the other male jump over them all. His teeth finding their placement into the exposed thick neck. Puncturing through bone, tissue and jugular to prevent further sound to come from the beast. She didn’t miss the way it fell silent. That final moment where the body convulsed into stillness.

Helonia growled her approval. Releasing her attachment with a satisfying smile. If hunting with these wolves would provide her a day where hunger did not exist, she would do so each time. Blood dripping down the sides of a stained jaw. The taste of a meal soon to come lingering on her tongue

"Helonia"~~"Melanth"

Wilder nearly feels like a pup playing tug-o-war. Jaws clamped tightly over the walrus' rear flipper, his paws digging into the snow, toes splayed out as his body leans back until his ass is nearly sitting on the ground. He can hear the tear of skin and blubber, that haunting baritone of wailing cries, as the other wolves tear and rind at the beast. Slowly, but surely, the walrus would be no match for four grown wolves. No longer was the monstrous creature the apex predator of this barren wasteland.

Just as his body starts to protest, the walrus begins to grow limp. Too much blood has fallen from its opened wounds. The life leaving its beady eyes as the last of their teeth wear down the poor thing. As soon as it no longer thrashes about, Wilder releases his grip and falls backward. Exhausted and feeling overheated, he pants openly, breath curling around his muzzle as he looks over to his bloodied hunting companions. Hopefully they'd be willing to have a meal sooner than later!

WILDER