For Fear of Time | Raven

[Ὀδύσσεια♐]

R O S K

It was a dismal day just like the last. The entire world seemed to be masked in the thick fog, blanketing the Dhole and the never-ending woods as if wanting to suffocate him. Too bad for the miserable Gods that brought down this never-ending sea of drowning mists on Ravensbruck's inhabitants though, for Rosk was sure he had sunk low enough in life that he could not be shoved to further depths. Amber eyes dart around the forest, unamused by the mockery and uncaring that the sun could not penetrate the forest floor this day. It was cold, too, though the snows had melted for the time being and left a slush of dirt and mud to trod through. His paws were coated in it, his fur clumped in patches of it here and there from his unsuccessful hunts. No, he didn't care that he could not feel the sun's warmth or see beyond many yards. He only cared that his stomach was cramped with knots of hunger.

Once upon a time he'd been better than this; marching through life with success and great ambitions. Now an entire day of hunting and he had nothing to show for it. Sometimes he wondered what Edra had seen in him as a mate. Had he once been better? More talented? Stronger? Rosk couldn't really recall and if he were being honest with himself, he didn't want to. All he wanted to do was find sustenance and live another day.

The form of rusted red fur meandered along a great fallen tree, a fallen remnant of what it once had been. He smiles bitterly to himself without humor due to the silly kinship he felt with the behemoth. His nose is down and he snuffles along the bark in hopes of discovering the trail of something. A squirrel, a mink or even a mouse or five would suffice. Auds swivel atop his head in an effort to discover if anything were hidden about the area, only to be bombarded with a brief snapping of twigs and scuffling. His head springs upwards, slightly curved ears pinpointed in the direction of the disturbance. He should have been more cautious but his hunger drives him forward instantly, scrambling along the massive tree until a startlingly similar figure comes into view below in mere seconds. She's mostly reds and creamy whites with splashes of black, just like him. Her tail is fluffed, her body a longer than it was tall, like him. Her fur seems thicker than his own, though, perhaps further adapted to the more northern regions of these lands. But Rosk could care little in this moment for what she is, only that she is about the same size and not dauntingly larger like so many others. In her jaws appears some kind of small mammal that has his heart leaping into his throat.

With a pinching stomach and no other source of food to speak of, Rosk did what any hungry soul would do. With a flurry of movement his paws carried him from the log and down to the earth, towards the other Dhole. It happened very quickly and perhaps too fast for her to fully react against. One moment he was unseen and the next, unceremoniously crashing into her form in a frenzy of flying dirt and twigs. His canines flashed, though he was not aiming for the she-dog. Instead his small jaws found the kill and claimed it for himself, scuffling a moment to free it from her before bounding away as quickly as he'd come. He flees for the same wall of fallen trunk with the intention of scaling it as easily as he'd descended. Unfortunate for him and yet perhaps fortunate for her, Rosk misjudges the height for the face was more sheer this side, just managing to hook his forelimbs over the top. The momentum surged him forward a moment, only to bring him back down the next before he could gain enough leverage. In all his failed glory he fell straight back to the ground in a heap and a huff.

♐

NOTES: A valiant try, at least. hah
WORDS: 684
TIME/LOCATION STAMP: Mid winter, on border of Regnan and Schreien.
TAGS: ⋆Ravɛn

[⋆Ravɛn]

Daleia had surprisingly adjusted to Regnen quite well. She had always been able to adjust quickly no matter the circumstances, but this was the first time that she actually liked her home. Regnen was breathtakingly stunning, surrounded by wide trunked trees and beautiful landscape. She could only imagine how it would look in the fall, with reds and golds making up the majority of the foliage, the air crisp and clean. As it was, the little Dhole found herself trotting along through the forest, rounded ears swiveling atop her skull as she moved. She’d woken earlier than morning curled safely in the warmth of her den, reluctant to set out into the fog that awaited her. She’d forced herself to eventually, the idea of finding a meal for Fenrir fueling her movements. Perhaps, if she was lucky, he would allow her to pick at the scraps of whatever she found. She was smaller than he was however, much smaller, and whatever she found would likely not fill his belly as easily as it would fill hers.

Regardless, she would not be swayed. It was difficult to see through the dense fog that surrounded her, and what little vermin she did find would not be nearly enough for Fenrir. On and on she went, her tiny paws leading her closer and closer to the southern border until she considered turning to try further east. She turned, her side brushing gently against a thick clump of brambles, and from within the dry foliage burst a startled hare. Daleia squeaked in what she imagined was an undignified way, startled to stillness for a moment before darting after the hare. The creature was quick, but so was Daleia, and it was so frightened that it zigzagged back and forth between the trees until eventually Daleia looped along beside it to cut the creature off, gathering it in her jaws. It gave a desperate kick of its hind legs before Daleia shook it vigorously, stopping only once it was still.

It was a good catch she realized proudly, plump and warm between her teeth, and she turned with the intent to return to the dens as swiftly as possible, but her surroundings gave her pause. In her attempt to subdue the hare, she’d unknowingly followed it just over Regnen’s borders into the Schreien forest. Frowning at her own carelessness, she loped forward, fully intending to cross back with all the swiftness that her paws would allow…until something barreled into her with enough force to send her sprawling, her fur raising along her hackles as her catch was snatched abruptly from her jaws. The weight lifted off of her suddenly and she leaped to her feet, whirling with bristled fur to face the intruder whose attempt at a stealthy escape had failed. She was surprised to find that he was nearly a spitting image of her, the same rounded ears, and the rich auburn fur accented with both ebony and ivory, staring her in the face. His eyes, however…they were a deep amber while her own was a rich shade of chocolate. Still, their likelihood did not ebb her tide of anger.

”How dare you!” Daleia snarled furiously, looking very much like a small, livid ball of fluff. She strutted forward, dimly noting that he had perhaps an inch or two of height on her. Regardless, she marched towards him, cornering him with the sheer incline against his back. ”Who the hell do you think you are? You thief! Give me that at once.”

Her voice was nothing short of demanding and disdainful, the irritation clear on her fox-like features as she stared the stranger down fearlessly. Her impressive kill still dangled from his jaws, and Daleia decided that she would not leave until it was safely in her clutches. She had painstakingly caught it for her Dominor, and despite the way her belly rumbled in response, she fully intended to take it back to him.

☀

NOTES: She is so furious xD | WORDS: 659 | TAG: ~

[Ὀδύσσεια♐]

R O S K

It was his side that broke his fall, a great whoosh of air forced from his lungs in a grunt with the force. Pain shot through his shoulder and down his spine but was swiftly forgotten about. It would surely bruise. Rosk thought, for all his will to live, he was not yet defeated. As quickly as he had fallen he was twisting to his paws and whirling to face the other Dhole with her kill still dangling in his jaws. She was furious, that much was certain, face contorted with both surprise and disdain. Her hackles were  raised along her shoulder and spine to the point she almost looked larger than he was. Rosk was marginally taller but her coat was thicker, offsetting the difference. He was thankful she was not of the overwhelming majority in Ravensbruck; not towering above him, looking down on him. Thankful she appeared nothing of the ones that had taken everything from him. He wouldn't have had the guts for this if she were. Did that make him a coward? The mere consideration was abruptly shoved from his mind. This was no time to dwell.

He narrows his eyes at the fuming she-dog before him, noting that she had him cornered against the great log. How dare he? How DARE he? One must always be daring in this cruel game of life and death, something he had learned quite harshly, and he clamped down harder on the rabbit, some of the blood dripping down his chin. It was so warm, the life just leaving it moments previous, and it made his stomach rumble painfully. It didn't matter to him that he was possibly stealing a meal from a creature that could be just as hungry as him, or that there was a chance she had mouths to feed somewhere in this forsaken forest. It barely occurred to him that she could have been a slave seeking food for her dominor. If he had known... would he let her have it in hopes she would not be torn to pieces like Edra?

Narrowing his eyes at his adversary, Rosk stared with a hardened gaze. No. He had to eat and he would not give it up without a challenge. He thought about making a break for it though a swift glance around deterred him. Every which way would only bring him closer to her, something he wasn't prepared for yet. And yet something from deep within him stirred, some wisp of amusement bubbling up from some long forgotten place. She was so angry, despite her obvious prowess at hunting, and she had a strangely proper way of speak. Her more delicate muzzle was downtrodden, her brow pinched in a manner that mirrored his own mask of contempt. He felt the twitch at one corner of his maw, the ghost of a smirk, his eyes a strange mixture of aggression and humor in one.

Before allowing her a move to try and take it from him, Rosk dropped the kill and flung himself over it, weighing it down. He wasn't the heaviest brute in the land, but she also wasn't very big either. And perhaps it was a last resort. With his mouth now empty and meal secured below, teeth and claw free to guard, he spoke. "Come and get it, she-dog." It was taunting, his canines flashing and something of a growl escaping his throat. He could only wait and see if she had the guts.

♐

NOTES: -laughing at these two-
WORDS: 580
TIME/LOCATION STAMP: Mid winter, on border of Regnan and Schreien.
TAGS: ⋆Ravɛn

[⋆Ravɛn]

He was absolutely infuriating, that much Daleia could plainly see. Her mind was a whirl of possible scenarios as he smirked at her, clamping down harder on the hare. There was certainly no chance of trying to trick him out of it or threaten him; she was certain that it would not work, and that made things even more difficult for her. There was a brief moment where she wondered if he would leap at her in some attempt to stun her and run, but even as she thought it, he plopped down directly on top of the corpse, his challenge clear in his words. Daleia stared at him in total disbelief, her bushy tail quivering with her rage.

”You cannot be serious,” she muttered mostly to herself, agitation rising higher and higher with each moment. Finally, with a loud cry of exasperation, she leapt towards him, dodging out of range of his claws and muzzle to circle around beside him, diving for his furry body. She pressed hard against him, trying with all of her might to force him bodily from the kill, her little sides heaving as she gained…absolutely no ground. No matter how hard she pushed, muscles straining, it was obvious that Daleia was no warrior. She was not meant for physical altercations, and finally when she managed to move him not one single inch, she leapt away from him in a flurry of fur, huffing as she sat back on her haunches.

”Fine!” She snapped, shaking her muzzle back and forth vigorously, her eyes narrowed as she looked away from him. Her tail still waved back and forth, although it was certainly not out of happiness. She’d crossed the Regnen borders for nothing, putting her own safety at risk for a kill she could not even prove she’d caught. Her intentions had been good, but would Fenrir believe it if he realized she had left? No, she thought grimly, memories of her previous dominors upon catching disobedient slaves flashing through her mind. He would not.

”Keep it if you want it so badly, you awful creature,” she said, whipping her head around to gaze at him with all the contempt she could muster, scorn laced into her tone as if she were speaking to an unruly pup. ”I hope it keeps your belly nice and warm; meanwhile, I must try to find something else to take back to my master!”

Despite her words, she made no move to go. She was reluctant to go back now, her failure as fresh a new wound. She took a moment to study the male critically, taking note of his sleeker fur and hungry demeanor. She herself was certainly not plump – she had missed too many meals to be considered that, but she was not skinny. Then again, neither was he; it was the determination in the set of his jaw and the gleam of desperation in his eyes that suggested hunger. Still, she sniffed and lifted her nose as her words filled the silence.

”You very clearly need it, anyways.” She smirked as she allowed her eyes to roam over him again, her comment meant to jab no matter that it was partially false. Physically, she saw no reason for him to complain. ”Whatever are you doing so close to Regnen’s borders, anyways? I hope you’re not wanting to join. I couldn’t tolerate you if you did.”

☀

NOTES: She's so formal and he's just like "lol nope" | WORDS: 570 | TAG:Ὀδύσσεια♐

[Ὀδύσσεια♐]

R O S K

Her fur was long enough that Rosk could see the minuscule quiver stemming from her muscles to each hair. She was absolutely livid as many had been before her in his days of kill-snatching and thievery. Really, Rosk was a fine hunter if his head were in it, but it had been pulled and yanked every which direction that he could hardly focus enough for the task anymore. So many rabbits just like the one beneath him had darted before his eyes, only for him to hesitate from his thoughts long enough for it to get the upper paw and flee. His mere survival had mostly been scavenging from abandoned corpses, to flushing out small mice, to stealing just as he was now.

The angry female was perhaps as determined as he and though he wished she would have given up then and there, he was not surprised when she made good on his taunting. She barreled at him, swerving around to get at his sides in an attempt to avoid his jaws. Rosk could have twisted around and bitten her, could have flailed out a few claws to her face. Instead, he leans his weight in her direction to combat her incessant, furious shoving. There's a constant growl ebbing from his throat as she does this, a warning, though he doesn't act on it. No quicker is she there that he realizes she is hardly a physical threat. And as he steels his muscles to plant himself to the ground more firmly she is hopping away in immense frustration.

She sits there in a flurry of angry fur and annoyance so thick she doesn't need to speak for him to feel it in the air. There are far more awful creatures in the world than me, he thinks bitterly, though the mention of a master is a kick in the gut. With a clenching of the jaw and the heated scowl of the eye, Rosk knew he couldn't afford to extend any sympathies to her. Rightfully, this was her kill and he did not doubt that she perhaps needed it a margin more than himself. However, it did not sway him for the snarling in his stomach was too great to ignore. Survival was a cruel game and one he'd learned to play, no matter how much he liked it or not.

Through his unrelenting silence and glowering, Rosk realized he could steal away the opportunity and run. She was off to the side now, not caging him against the trunk as forcefully as she had before. The tension in his form jumps and he raises slightly from the rabbit, a swift glance spared between the female and freedom until it quite suddenly glues to her reddish frame. He could see it now: a proper female with proper speak, who couldn't contend with a rival. She'd been defeated so easily. He hardly has it in him to feel insulted by her jab though his lips tug over his teeth slightly in protest. "Sorry to disappoint, she-dog, but I've no interest in your little pack. If they're anything like you I'll take my chances with the wilds," he stabbed back, quite ready to take his leave.

♐

NOTES: Teach 'im a lesson, Dal! xD
WORDS: 536
TIME/LOCATION STAMP: Mid winter, on border of Regnan and Schreien.
TAGS: ⋆Ravɛn

[⋆Ravɛn]

"Sorry to disappoint, she-dog, but I've no interest in your little pack. If they're anything like you I'll take my chances with the wilds.”

Daleia scowled, digging her paws into the slush beneath her as she stared at him. She was the intolerable one, he dared suggest! She’d been minding her own business, determined to be on her merry way when he’d barreled into her and ruined everything. She had never met someone so selfish, and yet…and yet she was the type of dog who looked after herself primarily. She did not do it in the same way that this stranger did, but still. She had grown accustomed to smooth-talking, to using her wit to get her way. And this instance would be no different.

She waited patiently, careful not to focus too hard lest he guess at her intentions. She simply sat still with her eyes narrowed and the scowl on her face, wrapping her fluffy tail around her tiny paws. Her patience was unending as she watched the smug little dhole shift his weight, and then he was lifting himself fully off of the hare, presumably to flee. She did not hesitate at all; the tip of her tail flicked once and then she sprang, darting forward to snatch the hare from beneath himself before dancing away, the kill held triumphantly between her jaws as her glittering eyes focused on the brute. After a brief moment she dropped it, immediately moving to stand possessively over it, the scowl upon her face having transformed into a venomous smile.

”If it was that easy to take it back from you, I wouldn’t have bothered speaking with you at all,” Daleia said smugly, before growling a quiet warning to him. ”I will not let you take it again.” She cast a quick glance over her shoulder in the direction of Regnen before looking back to him, wondering how quickly she could grab the hare and flee over the borders if he tried to thieve again. He certainly wouldn’t try to mess with her if she found Fenrir, who towered so massively over them that it was almost a cruel joke. ”My dominor wouldn’t take kindly to your rudeness…and he’s much larger than you.”

Needless to say that this also meant he was much larger than Daleia herself, but she wondered if it would sway him at all. Truly Fenrir was a colossal male, which the stranger did not know, and he would have offered her protection if she needed it as she was his sklavin. Truly though, Daleia had no desire to call on him for assistance, because it would mean admitting that she had left Regnen, although she was still so close that she could faintly smell his scent on the borders. However, the dhole in front of her didn’t need to know that.

”If you’re really that desperate, I can catch something for you,” she sniffed. She did feel a pang of sympathy beneath the irritation, for he must have been ravenous to steal and defend his actions so vehemently. She would not give him the hare she had caught under any circumstances, but maybe…

”There is a stream near to here, if you’d like me to show you. It hasn’t frozen yet this winter, so there will still be fish. More hares too, if you’re lucky. They stay very near the water.”

It was where she would have gone afterwards if she hadn’t caught the first hare, and although it would mean being away from Regnen for longer, Daleia could use all of the good karma that she could get. Placing both paws protectively atop the hare, she gave the ivory fluff of her chest a few licks to smooth it down before clearing her throat.

”Daleia, by the way.”

☀

NOTES: eheheh, she's so smug and arrogant | WORDS: 633 | TAG:Ὀδύσσεια♐

[Ὀδύσσεια♐]

R O S K

Rosk never had been intentionally brash or abrasively mean. There was a chip on his shoulder, sure. He detested those he came across first sight even though he was aware the unfortunate events of his life were not their doing, yes. However, he vastly preferred no confrontation and verbal quarrels were something that was most usually beneath him. If he didn't need to confront, he wouldn't. If he could snatch something and run then it was always the path he chose so that he might slip back and sulk in the shadows once more. But this female was so haughty, so smug, that he warred between letting her comments slide and biting back. And he seemed to be dealing with a double edged sword; one moment she was shaking in fury and the next, poised before him with that soft fluffed tail curled around her delicate paws, gazing at him with chocolate eyes that he didn't trust.

It seemed right that he did not trust her, too, for the moment he had risen from the rabbit with every intention of at last fleeing with it, she was bounding towards him. It happened as quickly as he'd snatched it from her: one moment it was tucked safely under him and the next it was in her small jaws. She danced back with triumph on tiny paws and he was upright in an instant. Growling in surprise and irritation that she had outwitted him after he'd already disregarded her capabilities, Rosk hopped one stride towards her just as she took a step back and guarded the kill beneath herself. How quickly the tables turned! His move was a forceful one, tail high and eyes ablaze with hackles skyward. He stared her down, shocked by the daring move as he'd thought her easily defeated. Amber eyes flitted from her face to beneath her, stomach lurching at losing the meal just as soon as he'd gained it.

"And you place your trust in brutes so much larger than you? They could tear you in two, little she-dog," he said with a voice laced in anger and... and was that mild concern? Rosk didn't know and he didn't think too much on it, only focusing on the fact she threatened him with the wrath of this master she spoke so highly of. On the fact that she seemed all too willing to scurry back to him and present him with her prize and perhaps tattle on the Dhole that had tried to steal it. He'd never understand it. If he were her, he'd have fled across the lands of Ravensbruck and hid from the towering beasts that ruled it. He'd learned that the most difficult way.

Again he was appalled by her suggestion and his skin flamed under his coat with embarrassment. Did she pity his obvious desperation and distress? Such a notion didn't sit well with the male and he flashed his teeth at her, backing up a pace or two to glower at her. "Catch something for me? You already did that." No, he would waste no more time here for his pulse was already racing. If she were generous and wanted to give him something, he wanted what she already had. He already felt exposed here in the open, his stomach clenching painfully every time he looked at the plump rabbit under the female's paws.

He wasn't really listening to her, only catching her name when he sprung forward. Their forms collide, tumbling through the slush and mud a few feet until he'd pinned her to the mucky ground. "You have too many words, Daleia," he hissed, though it seemed to lack the venom he wished it had. Rosk planned on leaving it at that. He planned on snatching the rabbit one final time and at last running before the she-dog could regain herself. Something froze him, though, and he halted in his turn to leave, gaze drawn back. He had given it very little consideration before but he was startled by it now. For a moment he simply stares down at her, perhaps looking as surprised as she probably was but for varying reasons. Aside from her color, this female looked nothing like Edra. This one's fur was too long, her eyes differently colored, her muzzle more delicate. Rosk wasn't sure what it was, but something about the fact tormented him less than if she had been similar... and yet it jarred him.

As quickly as he had tackled her to the forest floor, Rosk was suddenly jumping away on tense and heated legs. He scrambled successfully up the great log this time and disappeared on the other side with not another word, leaving the rabbit for his mind had swept elsewhere. He needed to get away, disappear into the fog.

♐

NOTES: ;O
WORDS: 796
TIME/LOCATION STAMP: Mid winter, on border of Regnan and Schreien.
TAGS: ⋆Ravɛn

[⋆Ravɛn]

"And you place your trust in brutes so much larger than you? They could tear you in two, little she-dog.”

Daleia frowned, ears twitching at his tone. There was something there, laced beneath the anger, something that she could not quite put her tongue on. Daleia had never been shown much concern in her life, so she did not readily recognize it when it presented itself, especially not from a brute such as him. And it wasn’t as if he was wrong, either. It would be all too easy for Fenrir, who towered so ominously over her, to decide that she was more trouble than she was worth. One clamp of his jaws and she would be doomed, one hard shake of that great head and she would go as limp as a ragdoll, lifeless. It was a daunting thought…and yet it was all the more reason to obey him. He was large, he was strong, and his intimidating size and brute strength was the only protection that Daleia had, fickle as it was. She, who was tiny with only her wit to survive on, could only slink in the shadows of those larger than her, hoping for protection no matter how much she loathed her dependency.

His words were no gentler when he spoke again, all trace of that mysterious emotion gone. She frowned at him, opening her mouth to snap a retort when suddenly he was springing forward, body smashing into hers once more. She yelped as she rolled beneath him, her little body partially curled on itself when the momentum carrying them finally faded. "You have too many words, Daleia," he hissed, body like a statue above her. Her chocolate-hued eyes flashed with indignation and a touch of fear as her lips peeled away from her teeth, bared in a snarl. There was a moment where she feared that he would do something vile, like mar her face or kill her even…but he didn’t. He simply stepped away from her vulnerable form, a strange expression on his face as he paused. Slowly Daleia rolled onto her stomach, wondering if one last desperate dash for the hare was worth it…and then he was moving away from her, scrambling over the log, leaving the carcass in his wake.

Hissing, Daleia stood, casting a disgruntled look at the mud and slush that clumped in her fur. She was filthy, the hare was cold, and it would only get colder if she had to bathe before returning to Fenrir…but at least she would return victorious. ”All of that for nothing?” She barked, voice carrying through the trees despite the fact that he was likely long gone. Grumbling to herself, she paused to pick a cluster of twigs from her fur, eyeing the surrounding woods shrewdly. It stung her that he had taken her by surprise twice; she would have to think quicker, to be quicker. And the look on his face when he’d left…it had been odd, and Daleia wasn’t quite sure how to comprehend it.

”I have too many words,” she muttered indignantly, tail lashing back and forth. ”Well he didn’t have nearly enough!” She stooped to gather the hare in her jaws, turning without further hesitation towards Regnen. As she crossed the border, a fleeting thought reached her. She had never even learned his name.

Well good riddance, thief.

☀

NOTES: ;-; | WORDS: 560 | TAG:Ὀδύσσεια♐