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The bliss of such danger is all consuming as the wind rushes through my fur. I know that at any moment, it could all end. I could just fall over this edge and it would be the end of me. But then the faint sounds of something come to my ears. Is that snarling? It sounds like fighting but who would be fighting all the way out here? Okay, so I bet a lot of wolves fight out at the crags. It probably seems like the perfect place, actually, with all the cliffs just begging for a chance to send you toppling over to your demise. Just the thought makes my muscles quiver with anticipation. I open my burnt orange eyes and look around the crags, trying to go off of the echoes but the crags are bad about that so it's hard to determine the source. None the less, the snarls continue and I know for sure now that someone is fighting. The blood in my veins starts to churn with eagerness, my body already wanting to join in. The warrior in me seeks release and I launch in a random direction, hoping its the right one. When the snarls only heighten in volume, I know that I'm on the right track. A smirk twitches at the corner of my lips and my eras flatten to my skull, my tail flicking behind me in excitement. Finally I see what looks like two wolves rolling together down in the bottom of one of the gullys. I pause for just a moment on the cliff overlooking, watching them roll until they stop. A multitoned wolf of reds and whites and blacks is on top, his body stiff and unmerciless as he strikes at his prey. The wolf beneath him looks more shocked than anything but he's still fending off his attacks, looking more like he's fighting for his life than because of any righteous motive. Curious, I decide to get closer. I cautiously move down the cliffside, not wanting to injure myself. By the time I reach the base, I'm running again and as I get closer, I can just make out the words of the male on top. He looks resolute in his rage, his eyes burning a hole into the other but from what I can tell, the one on bottom looks more lost than ever. What's going on? Is he simply helpless cause he's losing the fight or is it something else? My lips curl back, my tail flicking again and I make a hasty decision. Why let a wolf die for an unknown reason when I can get my release and solve a problem at the same time? Sure, this puts a damper on my plans to get that second elk skull but I can always come back to that problem. My body bunches and I launch at the male with the white mask, aiming to collide into his rib cage and send him rolling. If I hit him, I move to put myself between him and the other male, my body stance wide and ready for battle, my hackles bristled and my lips curled back, flashing pearly whites in warning as a growl purrs from my throat. My orange eyes will burn into him as I murmur in a low dangerous voice. "Who are you to take the life of another? Who are you to judge life and death?" I flick a single ear behind me, ever wary of the other male in case he gets any ideas. I'm sort of hoping he'll take his chance for freedom and run but if I'm not successful in pushing the other off of him then we both may be in trouble. If he does dodge my collision, I'll try to grasp his scruff or whatever I can to pull him off, anything to give the other male breathing room to recover and run for it if he so wishes. I 'm not trying to hurt the attacker, at least not yet. Not unless he pushes me to it. Avery female.four years old.35', 150lbs.born to ChernobylxBeowulf.sibling to Adalmund&Aelfgar.bound to none.mated to none.betrothed to Leonidas.mother to none.tied to nowhere |