don’t fucking bark if you can’t fucking bite

The green boscage enthralled the queen, enticing her further into the wood. Wet soil and ice wedged in between large, pastel paws, a symbol of Elsewhen and Cloudrest. She departed briefly to forage and restock Stormrift's dens, a wad of myriad herbs dangled from her maw as she traced the path back toward the scent of Cervidae. Her strides faltered slightly as a brown blur near the carcass; a young bear.

Fire glinted in her eyes, embers in a maelstrom gaze, unwavering as she watched the bear rip into the recently deceased buck without hesitation. The beast's unwelcome intrusion and egregious theft of Aruna's game were enough to enrage the she-wolf. Gently setting down her cache, a pink tongue slid over bloodstained ivories and delicate gums, hair standing on the back of her neck.

The low beat of her breath and the steady rumble in her throat bellowed in the air. The bitter winds of an upcoming winter stung her sight, heavy-lidded beneath the aggression of the dawning sky. "Thieving cunt", she uttered, eyes narrow. This was a cause of action, and a violent one; the pressure of becoming sovereign reaped its toll; this would be an excellent stress reliever, win or lose.

She advanced. Perhaps it was a rash decision that she could've let go, but the stubborn queen wasn't willing to discuss it now. She bared her teeth, gnashing, with a rough bark — a warning.

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@Ragnar || Between Elsewhen and Cloudrest

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Being vague about trial stuff on my end.

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The trial had come and gone. The war had ended. Northfall was victorious, but no great battle to be had. No feast for their dead. Ragnar remained restless and with it, found himself wandering beyond the borders of his home in order to quench his thirst.

In the open tundra he had only the cold winds and hardened snow to accompany him. He takes a heavy breath and breathes back in deeply through his nose. There were others. There always were. Ragnar was unknowing to the latest claim made towards the Cloudrest. Since the fall of the first a number had made attempts though nothing to ever last. Only beyond a year and already Northfall held the status of a seasoned pack- the first of two to settle in the northwest, the eldest to remain still strong.

Ragnar hrmmms on his breath and ears twitch to the curses of another. Then a bark, a sharp one. A warning. He turns, hairs along his spine rising and muscles tensing. Though the altercation was not about him. Instead, in the distance, a tall stormy young woman facing off a teenaged bear over a felled buck. Ragnar growls, taking a few quick paces, instinctively to back up one of his own kind, though he does not advance much further yet. Still, a good fight was well overdue.
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Storm gray lips of a face curled to expose pink gums as the flesh of her snout tightened and crinkled defensively, brows furrowed. Responsively, the bear drew upward to its hind paws, a known fear tactic. A wiser wolf would've turned heel and left already, but she was a seasoned hunter and safeguarded her meals frequently. Still, they were tenacious and voracious creatures.

 
From the corners of her eyes, there was a shift in the grass. A wolven rumble erupted from its throat as it emerged from the foliage. Adorning a pelt of cream with a plumage of raven feathers in the fur of his neck, Aruna made brief note of his stature, long-legged but a tad shorter than her. "Hope your not looking for a fight, we're a bit occupied at the moment." She quipped, eyes trained on the Ursidae. "Unless of course its the bear you want, then by all means, go for it."  A tentative paw stepped forward, jaws snapping with yet another unappreciative bark.

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The bear rears and though he is young, he is large. Even if a yearling and immature in the fight, he should not be underestimated, the same which he felt towards the young cat, @Olympia-Elune , which held the colors of their enemy. Once enemy, now.

“I'm well overdue for a good fight, if you've a need for the added support?” He took a few steps closer so that as he drew near, he would be coming from the side of the bear whilst she at his head. If she was far too prideful, whether not wanting help or thinking she could handle the situation all her own, then Ragnar would leave.
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