[Quest] When you are being hunted,

[Random Events]

 surviving triumphantly in a hostile environment 

The summer heat has driven the wolf higher and higher into the mountains, until the sea is only a distant dream gleaming on the horizon at sunset and the city is a memory of the thick scent of smoke and horses. 

(He saw her again before he left, the mare with the mis-matched eyes that burned like coals and sparked like flame. He saw her and he smiled his long lupine smile, licked his teeth, willed her to follow. He knows something, feels something being born and forged between them, even if he doesn’t know quite what.)

For the moment, though, he is alone. He stalks hares through the thinning forest, dark-needled conifers that carpet the ground so that each step releases the sweet scent of spruce and cedar. The wind that sluices down from the peaks is cold and bracing and still tastes of winter, and the dark wolf’s ears turn at each sound, the high thin keen of an eagle (hunting, too) and the snort of a caribou when it catches his scent. It is good, he thinks, to have teeth, and a keen nose, and to course through the undergrowth as easily and swiftly as though he is a river cutting through. It is good to be a predator on the hunt (even if there is a space inside him that feels empty but never had before, like a room he never knew was inside him has been unlocked and is waiting to be entered). 

He follows the trail of a hare from a fallen log taller than he is, through a thicket of burrs and buckthorn. The former snags a tuft of fur from his haunch, but he does not notice; he is joyous with the hunt, and a thorn is nothing to a wolf. And then - oh then! - there is a clearing, and the hare is huddled in the grass, nibbling, wary, not wary enough. The wolf crouches, low and still, and creeps forward, each paw a whisper on the ground, silent as his own shadow. 

But he is not the only hunter. 

Before he can spring, before his jaws can close around the hare’s neck, there is a splitting cry that shatters the stillness of the forest. Even the dust-motes seem to freeze, suspended, golden as chaff. The hare freezes, too, one paw raised - and then there is a flash bright as lightning, and his prey is gone, gone beneath a body of snow and ash - a gryphon. 

He is too proud and too furious to think; the wolf leaps with a terrible sound rippling from his throat, his jaws wide, wide and his teeth sharp. The snow gryphon shrieks its surprise and fury as he barrels into its shoulder and wing and the beasts tumble end-over-end, spitting and snarling in a sound like the world being rendered. It beats its wings, it lashes its leopard-claws and eagle talons, and the wolf does not relinquish his hold on its throat. If there was snow it would be painted red.

And then its claws catch him, raking open his stomach, slitting open the skin as though he were the hare and the hunted. The wolf relinquishes his hold to cry out and the gryphon beats him back, back with its snowy wings. They are both panting, both bleeding, and the ground between them is sown with iron. Adrenaline is too much the master of the wolf for him to note how badly he’s injured, and neither of them take their eyes from the other, and both of their gazes promise only death. 

---

@Morrighan might feel the same hollowness in her that the wolf feels and then she might feel it ache like something is wrong, terribly wrong. She might too, feel pulled towards the mountains where a hare is dead and a gryphon and wolf are both starting at each other with blackness in their eyes and blood on their skin. And maybe, she might then feel a pull to do something, anything (because surely that hollowness is starting to feel as endless as hunger).

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This quest was written by the lovely @griffin

Enjoy!

[Morrighan]

A LITTLE MAYHEM NEVER HURT ANYONE

Grueling tensions // Want me in a spiral // I'm waiting to unravel // Twisted motives // Drive me in a circle // I'm dying to untangle

Something pulls her to the mountains and she can't quite explain it. Perhaps it's the urge to patrol the borders as the Court's new Warden, or it's just where her hooves are taking her today. Either way she trots along, using her peripherals to keep a close watch for any sudden, suspicious movement. She is taking her new position very seriously and as such, holds her head up high.

Morrighan feels thankful that something is going right lately considering how the relic hunt had ended. She and the others had come face to face with a large snake guarding the relic. She, like several others, thought she would be strong enough to attack it head on. Not too long after, she was proven wrong when she was sent into a dark abyss and spat back out onto the shore. Even after happening several weeks ago, she's still salty.

Relic or not, she is still the Warden and she wears her new title proudly. So far, there is nothing suspicious happening here. Even with Raum defeated, she doesn't trust a moment of peace. There is always someone out there bound to cause problems and she'd be ready for them.

A noise catches her attention up ahead and her ears flick forward to the mountain. She isn't sure what it is, but it sounds like something in distress. The mare picks herself up into a trot and moves onward, all while listening to shrieks of what seems like a type of bird. When she gets closer, she sees the flapping of wings along with blood splattered in the snow. She watches behind a ledge as the scene unfolds.

Her eyes widen and there is a fury racing through her when she realizes the gryphon is attacking a black timber wolf. Ever since the war back home, she's hated the wolf species. They were not common around Novus, but lately this same wolf has been seen lingering around Denocte. He's always difficult to catch once she spots him and it always pisses her off. Now that she sees the gryphon clearly kicking his ass, she smirks.

The ground beneath the two creatures is stained red from all the blood spilled already. It appears the wolf has a wound to his stomach and the gryphon has his fair share of bites. They are both panting and glaring at each other, the determination clear in their expressions. They will likely die just trying to rip the other apart. At least Morrighan will have entertainment watching the wolf finally get what he deserves.

But then there is a dark figure in the distance.

At first, she thinks it's just a shadow or a trick of the mind, but it appears to be an equine figure. They are still completely black, but have enough of a form to be more than a shadow. The tendrils of their mane blow around in the air even though there is no wind. She cannot see their eyes, but somehow she feels them bearing into her.

Something inside her tells her that it's Caligo.

The mare isn't sure how she knows, but she's almost positive. It's the same feeling she felt during the snowstorm with the colt when she almost left him laying there. Back then, it was the statue that did it, but now… is it really her?

Her gaze had shifted away from where the figure stood, but when she looks back, it's gone. She blinks and feels confused, but there is not much of a moment to think when the gryphon lunges again. At its move, so does the wolf, but it's moving a lot slower than the creature due to the stomach wound. He's determined, Morr will give him that, but he's clearly losing. Her satisfaction was quickly fading and being replaced by an indescribable ache, followed by a sharp pain in her side. She winces.

The gryphon has its talons clamped on the wolf, squeezing him so tight he lets out another howl of pain. Did Caligo make it so she could feel the wolf's pain? It makes her furious, both at the God and the wolf.

Fuck.

Morrighan charges forward, igniting fire at her feet as a warning. The gryphon lets go of the wolf in surprise, but it does not give up yet. Instead, it flies towards the mare and lets out a battle cry. She doesn't hesitate and twists around to kick the creature with her back legs which are entirely engulfed in flame. The gryphon shrieks as its feathers are singed and it falls to the ground in pain. The impact and cold snow snuff out the fire on its body and it quickly gets up and flies off. She snorts and waits until the creature is almost out of view before turning to the wolf.

He looks terrible and is lying on the ground pathetically. For a moment, she wonders if he's dead, but she can see his sides moving with each breath. Morrighan nudges him with her snout. "Get up," she orders in a cold tone, getting a strange sense of déjà vu.

She can hear the wolf laugh under his breath before he moves in an attempt to stand. "So, you finally caught me, eh?"

"Barely. You seemed to be doing a good job of getting yourself killed."

"Maybe, but here you are, my knight in shining armor. Or should I say, my princess?"

"Don't," she spits, her nostrils flaring. "And don't think this changes anything. Your kind disgust me and this was just an exception. Next time, I'll leave you for dead."

The wolf has a cocky smile on his face before Morrighan turns to leave. She doesn't get too far when she hears him call out.

"If we're going to see each other so much, could I at least get your name, fire-hooves?"

"Morrighan," she answers flatly without turning her head.

"Bram."

"Well Bram, you better hope I never see you again," she threatens, only then turning back to give the mongrel the stink eye. He returns it with an even bigger toothy grin. Morr rolls her eyes and continues forward back to the Court keep.

Little does she know that this is just the beginning.

@Random Events"Speaking."

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