timeline: post meeting kaino at the polar sound, the syndicate's territory border, roughly a day or so after.

Tracking northeast from Syndicate's border, Sloan made her way along the frosty coastline. With winter looming over her shoulder, she needed something to keep her belly warm and full. Until she was accepted into the ranks with her brother, she would need to find her own food. Which, if she were being honest, fucking sucked. Hunt her own animals? Ugh, yuck. Getting dirty was tiring and made for a lot of work afterward to get her coat back into order. Sloan notices how the beach here has been picked clean. Where she thought cold water clams and mussels would be, there is nothing but discarded shells and broken rocks. What she thought would be an easy meal would now prove difficult. The growl of her stomach urges her forward, farther up the coast until a rumbling bellow stops her in her tracks. Looking up from the rocky shore, her olive green eyes widen slightly at the sight of the beast ahead of her. A mustache full of thick whiskers and tusks that nearly reach the ground. Taking a step back, Sloan wants to avoid the walrus, avoid getting into an altercation with him. No thank you, sir! She thinks to herself as she tries to keep a wide berth, but her luck has run out. As she gets just around the north side of the walrus, the beast turns, another bellow shaking her paws and the ground beneath them. Why was the fucker being so grumpy? Beginning to waddle his way toward her with a look in his beady eyes that truly meant business. Glancing around, she notices the small, white harbor seal that is near death, blood strewn across the rocks. Ah, that had been the smell hiding beneath the musk of the predator. Had she gotten to close to his kill? Or was he that desperate for something good to eat? Knowing she's being back into a corner, there would be no running from the walrus now. Turning on the blubbering blob, she lowers her head, lifting her lips to show pearly whites as her ears flatten backward. "You'll regret this, asshole," she growls before pushing off toward the walrus. As he moves to swing his tusks at her, lifting up his heavy form as a barricade, she leaps. Legs outstretched, grappling his face, teeth seeking to dig and mar any sensitive spot on his ugly mug.

1/3 - Fight Large Predator (Walrus)

Tracker. What's the tracker doing out here? Freezing her ass off. Freezing, the chill of the north sinking deep into her bones and leaving her raw. Raw, hungry, starving-- starving in ways that meat will not fix. Starving for something more, though she won't give it heed. Iscariot's gaze is sharp, all of her is too sharp, as she cuts through the Pines like a knife. Easily distracted, when the quarry isn't of the upmost importance. A scent not altogether foreign, mixed with the too-heavy, too-foul odor of the walrus. Churning Riot's stomach, though something eggs her on. Closer, until Sloan comes into view-- cornered before the beast. Slow suffering, grumbling sigh from the girl, before she's off like a shot. Sharp teeth at the walrus's rear flippers, snarling and snapping as she digs in. It's with all of her might that Iscariot digs in, unsure exactly where she should be looking to chomp the thing. Good enough. If she can serve as some sort of distraction for the beast's rage, that's good enough.

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Massive flipper swing, catching her in the ribs. Eyes slamming shut as she hangs on, claws slipping and sliding over the walrus’ slimy, wet, blubbery form. Her teeth in its snout, effectively avoiding its tusks or teeth, but trying not to vomit from the texture of those disgusting whiskers, she hears someone else. Claws scrambling over ice as someone tiny zooms in to a rear flipper. The distraction slows the walrus, panic seeping into its beady eyes as pain blooms from the point that Riot decides to attack. Sloan doesn’t waste any time. Using her paws to brace herself upon its belly, she keeps trying to find a weak spot so its blood may spill across the barren plains.

The slimy mammal swings, and Iscariot needs to keep well clear of its powerful rear flippers. Since when are these fuckers this strong? Since when are they this nasty, too? The smell alone is off putting, but it's no time for complaints. Teeth gnashing, the walrus is momentarily distracted. It's enough for her to really dig in, scrambling and clamoring as she throws herself at the creature's back. Climbing up, like a slippery, slimy mountain. Riot digs in as best she can, ripping and tearing at the flesh. It's all pretty blubbery and armored, really she's the distraction here. Riot knows her role, and she'll do it to the best of her ability.

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Exhaustion fills her slowly as she tries to wear the walrus down. The thing is massive compared to other predators she's had to fend off. Its front flippers whack at her hind legs, bruising them until she can barely dig her dull claws into its belly. Her teeth meet its muzzle, blood covering her and itself. With the help of her little friend though, the walrus is slowly realizing that they won't give up. Saxes never do, do they? Her mouth is sore, paws shaking with effort just as the walrus lets out a loud bellow. Ears slam backward, eyes shutting as she tries to avoid spit in her eye. The walrus begins to shake wildly, trying to fling her off. After a few good shakes, Sloan releases her grip and falls to the ice with an 'oomph.' She doesn't waste time though. Scrambling back to her paws, fury and relentlessness in her gaze, she barks and lunges at the walrus. Surprisingly, its enough for the beast and once the other girl is in safe distance, the mongrel slides back toward the water where it would be safe. Watching it slide away, Sloan is breathless and almost ready to pass out. Shoulders hunched, sides heaving in and out, the grin on her face is wicked, covered in blood and gore. "We ain't such a bad duo," Sloan says, words slurring as she turns her attention to the tiny imp.

A great earthquake beneath her paws, Iscariot shifting and scrambling. Snarling and scrambling, sinking her teeth into the blubbery fuck. It's close to throwing her, nearly getting the girl free on more than one occasion, but Riot refuses to let go. Not until she's fairly certain that Sloan is okay, too. Finally catching sight of the other girl, and watching as the walrus begins to relent. The thing wants little to do with them, if it can't fend them off, right? Finally relenting, releasing, getting herself to safer ground-- Riot would leave it to fight another day, satisfied that they'd come out on top and were no longer in danger. The pile of jiggle slips back, battered, toward the sea. Allowing herself to become a panting heap beside Sloan, a rakish grin painted across her face. "Not bad at all," still breathless from the effort, Riot needs a fucking nap.

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