I'll play you like monopoly, destroy your property

Kids r now 7 weeks old! Cupid's gonna start getting out and doing some hunting of his own from now on :) Perhaps @Ira, or someone he hasn't met from VFW yet?

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 It was, unfortunately, time to stretch his legs; to get back into his old self again, now that all those hormones and shit were out of the way. As Cupid made his way down the the Run, the man smiled. This... was where he'd been taken into Vanderfell a few moons ago. So now, as he scented the ground, he couldn't help but feel... at home.

 It didn't take long for him to catch on to a scent, a doe. Licking his lips hungrily, Cupid stalked forwards, eyes trained on where the trail led him. There, by the water, the deer stood, drinking, unaware to the predator keen on devouring them. Luckily for the man, he was downwind, which made his pounce even less noticeable. As his teeth latched to the side of the meal, it began to buck and rear, trying to flail him off, though he remained latched on.

 For now.

 Within a few, heart-racing moments, it was off, and Cupid sprinted quickly behind, jaws snapping and nipping. He'd round and bend to keep the doe inside the run, hoping to wear it out via exhaustion sooner rather than later, if it were to keep up the swift pace. He made another leap, teeth sinking into the thigh, letting out a grunt as one a hoof graze his fur. The metallic taste began to fill his maw, and the man howled, calling for some help from a packmate or two.

 Cupid wasn't really at his A-Game, at the moment. He was a little... rusty.

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rustyyy

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She had been making her rounds in Ullarcraig when she heard the crash of hooves and lone howl. Rarely were the goats upset by their presence, comfortable along their rocky ledges to storm the Run, but it seemed someone or something had set one off. Straying from the borders, she was quick to see she had been wrong. It was no goat, but a doe who bled and fought for its life. Her gaze swept quickly to the wolf at its tail, her face a stranger until she caught wind of his scent.

He had been the one Hiero spoke of. She still would not understand it, but his body did not lie...so if he wished to be referred to as a man only she figured it would save some confusion and time. None of that mattered now however as he continued to storm after the fleeing prey. Ungulates were not something to hunt alone, but it seemed backup was an afterthought. Ira wasted little time moving from the sidelines. Fortunately, the doe was so distracted with the wolf at its heels it was less perceptive of where it ran. She would come from the side, aiming to either steer it toward the water or intercept the doe before it could put any more distance between her attacker.

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Rolling a 1d100, ^50 means the doe's been chased into the water, v50 means the doe is still running, but there's less room between it and the wolves. Rolled a 62

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 It didn't take long for a purple woman to come racing after; the high queen, he presumed, as she smelt of whelps and Hiero. Well, at least he'd get to introduce himself to her over a heart-racing hunt and – hopefully – a good meal. As she ran up to the doe, the prey would slow, trying to steer away from any other attacks as it turned. Using the opportunity to his advantage, though, Cupid would take another lunge at it's thigh, where a trail of crimson emitted from deep gash marks.

 He wasn't that bad, now that he realised. But man, Cupid most certainly needed to practice.

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The doe moved according to plan, quickly turning at the realization that it had been cornered. Unfortunately, in a dire attempt to escape it would only seal its fate as it strode into the river bank. Between what wounds it had already suffered, the sluggish pull of water, and Cupid's onslaught of attacks it was clear who would come out on top. With Cupid attempting to stall, Ira continued her charge into the water.

She was fortunate to know the land well enough to know how she would fair amongst the current. It may slow her as well, but it would not stop her from looking to close the gap. Her fangs flashed at the nearest flesh she could grab. The throat would bring their hunt to an end, but if the doe was not tired then they both risked injuries from any desperate flailing...so instead, she'd find purchase along the shoulder.

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1d100, ^50 means end of hunt, v50 means doe is still fighting. Got a 59!

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 As her teeth found claim among the doe's neck, the struggling of the prey was weaker and weaker, and Cupid launched himself towards its thigh once more, attempting to drag it down. Almost there, almost there! This would be good for his children, and for the rest of the pack. Sending a glance up to the High Queen, Cupid nodded appreciatively; thanks for the help.

 Luckily, the doe had been weak anyway. If it were healthy... well, there'd be a lot more injuries, he knew. The fight for food would – hopefully – end here. Cupid was bloody starving. This'd been good practice.

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Her fangs met their mark, slowing the ungulate with time as it struggled. Struggled against the current, the pain, the fear, but struggling could only do so much. There were times when such a fight was worth it to come out on top, but fate was ever in their favor. Ira adjusted as Cupid held down the rear (literally), her fangs digging into the depths of its neck as it wailed. The sound would only last so long before fading, and with it came the weight of their meal.

A body bloodied and broken collapsed into the running water, staining the clear liquid as it passed over any part submerged. The roan woman allowed the chill to wash over her face until she was sure the hunt was truly over, then unlatched herself with a lick of her maw. “You are a pack wolf now. You needn't hunt alone.” The gold of her gaze remained steady on their prey before shifting at the trail of her words to the man in question. Despite her words ringing true, he was rather small for a...nurturing...parent. She wouldn't linger on the specifics of how he had reproduced or what he was even capable of. That was a topic for another day.

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 Finally, as his heart flew and soar, the doe collapsed into the river. The hunt was over, and Cupid was exhausted and hungry and a little bit nervous to be around the high queen, if he were to be honest. “You are a pack wolf now.” She said. “You needn't hunt alone.” The man nodded with a weary smile. “I'm keen on proving myself, High Queen,” He insisted. He wanted to be good enough for Vanderfell, after they let him in and accepted his ward.

 “If I may, I can return this to the cache, if you like?” Cupid gestured down to the doe, tilting his head curiously. Please, please just let him go. This is quite awkward, and probably awkward for her, too. There was no doubt that she didn't know about his... body. Argh. Part of him wished he hadn't come out to hunt at all; maybe it'd be easier to be lazy and lie around with the kids. Damn it!

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All things considered, he would not fight her at the very least. It was good that this individual wished to prove himself. He had plenty of time to show that he deserved a place atop her mountain, but she would not judge too harshly. He had not been given the room to follow her rules prior to his acceptance, only that he must face the consequences of breaking them once he was considered of Vanderfell. Unfortunate, but mothers often did what was necessary for their children, even if they must now bear the weight of that punishment. As for his question... “Nonsense, prey of this size would take a fortnight to carry up the mountain alone. I will assist you.”

His attempts to leave were unnoticed as she grabbed hold of a leg and began to drudge the thing back to solid land. Truthfully, it would be wiser to break the kill into more suitable parts for carrying, given the terrain up the mountain range. Footing could be dangerously loose and she would not lose able paws over a couple of meals. “Actually, it would do us well to make the doe more manageable. Take what you can, the rest can be scattered in the low run caches.” A meal of this size was too valuable to leave in the Run where travelers and predators would occasionally wander unmonitored. Fortunately, she would not need to make the trek to the highest reaches of the summit to secure Vanderfell's food.

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“Nonsense, prey of this size would take a fortnight to carry up the mountain alone. I will assist you.” Damnit, okay, so he wouldn’t get out of this so easily. With a forced smile, Cupid nodded and went to reach for the doe, looking back up as Ira spoke again. Hm? “Actually, it would do us well to make the doe more manageable. Take what you can, the rest can be scattered in the low run caches.”

“Can do,” He assured, taking a large chunk out of the thigh and beginning his way towards the caches closest to the communal dens. Cupid flicked his tail, a welcoming sign in case Ira wanted to join him. If not, he’d be off, though he’d probably return later to get some meat again; he’d have to prepare for the children to be weaned. Being a parent was more tiring than he assumed… perhaps he could ask Ira for some advice later…

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potential fade?

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The man worked without complaint, something that would gain him a small standing with the roan woman as far as his debt to Vanderfell went, though really it was behavior expected of those on the Summit. As he tore off a chunk, she too would work away and one of the legs. With only two of them present, they would be forced to leave the deer unguarded while they stowed away what they could presently carry, so she wished to ensure the trip was worthwhile. Only after freeing the carcass of her claim would she turn tail to follow after the other as they made their way towards the main cache. Ira did not expect much conversation to come out of the work given their full mouths, but she never minded the silence. Instead, her thoughts would wander to the children, pleased that they would have a full meal secured for the coming days.

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