Tough Skin But Tender Souls
08-07-2013, 09:10 PM
Burn the land and Boil the Sea; but you can't take the sky from me
Gargoyle was on one of his rare trips away from his family. Oddly enough, ever since they'd become rogues, he'd actually had more time on his hands. Without the offical title of a pack and borders they were without challengers, and without the target that pointed them out to murder-happy loners. Gargoyle had had to kill two -no - three wolves in the past season or so, it was something he disliked. Or rather, he enjoyed it so much that his saner half preferred him not to. He did what he had to. That was all - or such was what he told himself to let sleep come easier each night.
This day he'd gone off to search for new lands that he might move his family to. Seracia was a possibility, since the relations between the southern kingdom and the 'snow rogues' were still good. Nephilium Island that his friend had scoped out would work too. And then there was Fontamo Bay. Fond memories of this place. He'd almost died here once.
But it was a bit too stormy and unpredictable to bring pups to. Storms and tides here grew powerful enough to wash in leviathans from the deep. Or such he'd been told; he'd never actually seen anything bigger than a small marlin wash up among the kelp and shells. ...Until today. He'd come early to the kill. Early enough to see the grey beast breathe it's last. The gulls had already been circling by that time and Gargoyle had to bat them out of way to start tearing into the carcuss. Normally he just would've snapped up a bird and eaten that instead, but this was something new. After he'd ripped hard and long to peel away the layer of skin, he'd had to dig through a layer of fat that seemed almost as thick as he was wide. The bludder tasted good though, and he munched on that a bit while he'd circled the thing, getting a feel for it's size and appearance. It was something he could respect and feed on at the same time. It was incredible. By the time he'd returned to the spot on the side, the birds had picked through to the good stuff for him. He'd had to bear his fangs to a grey hawk but then he'd gotten to bury his head in the meal.
Perhaps that was why he hadn't heard the approaching pawsteps in the sand. He didn't realize he was no longer alone until frustrated words spilled from unseen lips. He pulled his head back from the fish, blood wetting tufts of his fur along his face and upper neck, and turning them into damp spikes. Lifeless yellow eyes peered about, but with the great wall of whale in front of him, there was no seeing anything. The newcomer must have been on the other side. Rather than walk around like a regular fido, however, Gargoyle, took a few steps back and then, with a stride and a leap, clawed his way up on top of the water-monster. With angry screechs and screams of every kind, the birds flapped from their perches and flew off to wing like vultures overhead. It was quite the entrance. Gargoyle stood half crouched upon the mountain of grey skin, and looked down upon the orange she-wolf who'd sought to rip into what he had found first.
When there was plenty, however, Gargoyle wasn't the sort to play keepsies. So long as the other wolf was polite, he was more than happy to share. But she didn't know that, and he didn't intend to tell her until he'd made up his mind as to what sort of persona she was. He'd made his first move, now he waited to see what her reaction would be to the sudden appearance of a dire-sized brute with no tail and a tattered ear.
GARGOYLE
41 inches of doberman & timber wolf
been just about everything but a saint
41 inches of doberman & timber wolf
been just about everything but a saint
08-07-2013, 10:07 PM
Burn the land and Boil the Sea; but you can't take the sky from me
The she-wolf's response was as dramatic as the bird's. Suddenly she was backpedaling - stumbling in the sand to fall flat on the ocher fur of her back. She was lucky on this day. What if Gargoyle had been another predator? Or a dark-hearted wolf intent on killing. There would've been no pause at the top of the kill then, no he would've already plunged his paws down into the sand and his teeth into her flesh. Her stumbling would've sealed her fate. The Timber Cross, however, had no such thoughts on his mind. He was merely preparing himself lest the fellow scavenger prove the dangerous, fighting sort that he was. This girl was no match and threat. He was an intimidating figure by design, but his days of taking pleasure by drinking in another's fear were long gone. The features that looked down at the stranger were devoid of humor or aggression, or anything really.
The other wolf managed to snap back to her paws quickly. Flustered words, came out quick and confident enough - perhaps a compensation for her rabbit-like actions. Gargoyle just watched her silently. There was no bending forward of the ears to show that he was listening. There was no recognition in those lizard eyes show that he even heard. But he did. Gargoyle tended to be a tough nut to crack when first meeting. He could speak elegantly when he wished, but he never talked for the sound of his own voice. His soul could burn with fire or ice, with passion, revenge and even love, but it was very rare for much to be shown on that deadpan face of his. It wasn't a mask. It wasn't an act. It was just old habit - a part of his personality ingrained long ago. For years the only thing that would've made his eyes sparkly and his jaws smile, was the hunt and the kill. He had better things to occupy his emotions with now, but that didn't mean that all of a sudden his face because glass. Rude or not, he was stone.
When the she-wolf had finished speaking, Gargoyle paused a moment, and then crossed one for leg over the other, beginning to turn away. "This side is already opened." Yes he'd noticed the pitiful tooth marks on the she-wolf's side of the beast. He was trying to be helpful. Though the lifeless drawl of his voice probably didn't lend itself towards that fact. If she feared him, she could keep struggling with her pit until he'd had his fill and left. Or she could come join him - it made no difference to the brute. He took a few steps across the back of the water-monster - yes, it was that large - and then hopped down out of sight back to his portion of the carcuss. A couple idiotic birds had come waddling up along the sand and begun to peck at the rend in the meat, but Gargoyle didn't even bother batting them off this time. They tripped over themselves, squawking to get out of his way, but this time stopped after a yard or so. They were getting bolder. They knew the predators wouldn't bother with them so long as their was such a giant catch right at their pawtips.
GARGOYLE
41 inches of doberman & timber wolf
been just about everything but a saint
41 inches of doberman & timber wolf
been just about everything but a saint