Nature of the Beast

Uhera x Rhaegan

    The Watchman had spent most of the day trudging through thick mud and slush along the border, following an unfamiliar scent. News of King Renier’s ascension had brought loners flocking out of the woods like roaches - some eager to pledge themselves to his regime but many others hoping to take advantage of the unrest rippling through Vale. He’d come to understand Vale knew such  strangers as Vandr,  a word which sounded suitably derisive no matter what tone it was spoken in.

    Renier’s brother was under no illusion, he knew the pack had labelled him Vandr too and he knew they were justified in doing so. But unwelcoming though it might be Vale was his home, for now, and as such Rhaegan was determined to maintain the borders. The pack might be nothing more than a confederation of wanderers, but the line between them and outsiders had to remain clear and concrete.

    Uhera moved forward at an even pace just outside the Vale border. Technically not her job anymore - since the disbanding of pack tasks by the king – Uhera didn’t need to continue her routine as an outrider, but her new role as a member of the Black Watch was proving surprisingly uneventful. Occasionally she would have to deal with a disgruntled Valerian, but aside from those few instances Uhera had little to occupy her time. It seemed the whole of Vale had fallen into a depressed slump and nobody was doing anything; which was why on this day Uhera found herself walking the border looking for any signs of passing loners. While interactions with fellow Valerians had dwindled, interactions with loners had doubled and she felt more useful in a position where she could stop them outright.

    The scent of a fresh kill drifted by on the wind and Uhera altered her path to follow it. The breeze didn’t carry with it the scent of a vandr, but the sharp tang of blood in the air could easily mask that. As she got closer to the kill-site she picked up on little tid-bits of scent, carrying the distinct hint of something that always hovered over a Valerian wolf who had spent their days in the damp earthy land of Vale. She found the trail of the kill and there was blood on the ground and in the bushes, masking any identifiable individuals scent. Feeling it was her job now to know which Valerians were choosing to hover around the border Uhera kept moving towards the kill-site.

    Coming around a line of densely packed bush Uhera found the kill, and it was a massacre. Three or four rabbits - she couldn’t tell from how they were torn into – were piled together. Each was torn into and had its innards strewn about. Blood was everywhere; pooling in the grass, dripping from leaves and running down tree trunks. Whoever did this had committed an act of either extreme savagery, or was very new to hunting and didn’t know how to make even a near clean kill. Uhera was dumfounded by the sight, and suspicious. She picked her way carefully towards the rabbits; the smell of blood and gore was so strong her only hope of figuring out who did this was to pick the scent off the dead animals.

    In her distraction to discover the wolfs identity Uhera had wondered right into their trap. Nostrils filled with the overpowering scent of blood and prey, Uhera didn’t smell the wolf creeping around behind her. A trap set to get her attention and then hinder her ability to smell their approach, and she had unknowingly walked right into it. The only warning she got was the breaking of branches as a blur of fur dived out from the bushes and rammed itself into her side. Caught completely off guard, Uhera yelped loudly in shock as she was taken to the ground.

    The sharp wail of another wolf brought Rhaegan to a dead stop. Ears pricked forward, the muscular rogue worked to pinpoint the outcry as a stray breeze brought with it the sharp tang of blood and fear. Bristling, the Watchman’s placid demeanor shifted into one of downright savagery as he lunged forward in pursuit. The sounds of conflict grew more distinct as Rhae ran, and with them, his anticipation for battle.

    Bursting through the underbrush, Rhaegan took in the bloody scene as if in a dream. In the center of the gorey copse, Uhera struggled bitterly with a wolf Rhae didn’t recognize. It took only moments to figure out what was happening. Without blinking, without slowing, Rhaeagn charged into the fray.

    Claws digging into the attacker’s back, Rhaegan let loose a vicious snarl and clamped his teeth down along the base of their neck. With a mighty heave, the Watchman tore the outsider away and flung them to the dirt. Whirling, Rhaegan did not wait for the stranger to recover and pressed his advantage. They barely had time to cry out as the jaws closed over their throat and Rhaegan thrashed violently.

    This was an enemy, and there would be no mercy for them.

    When it was over and the vandr lay still, Rhaegan released the corpse and dropped it to the ground with a dull thud. Dead. A hollowness puddled in Rhae’s gut, stagnant and unfeeling. Above them the ravens cawed raucously, no doubt eager to feast on the carnage below. Always waiting to take their share of the spoils, useless creatures. Rhaegan thought bitterly.

    He’d been lucky, he knew. If this wolf had not been distracted in their attack on Uhera they would have posed a far more serious challenge. Licking his lips, the Watchman turned to face the she-wolf. “Are you injured?”

    This wolf was bigger, heavier, and even though he wasn’t using any fighting tactic, he was successfully dropping all his weight on her, keeping her lithe form pinned to the ground. Uhera pushed her back legs into the abdomen of the wolf to try and push him off, but he had his paws on her throat and any weight she lifted was only dropped back down on her own neck. Who knew that absolutely no strategy at all wouldn’t matter if someone chooses to become dead weight.

    For every second longer that Uhera stayed stuck in her pinned position, she felt the anger inside her growing alongside her aggravation. Not just at the situation, but at the fact that she’d seen this wolf before, in Vale; he was a Valerian. The Vale scent didn’t cling to him as strongly as it should have; he had obviously been spending his time outside Vale for some time, but he was a Valerian, or he had been. Either way, it didn’t matter because he was now either a traitor or a Vandr who had just made a terrible mistake.

    Before Uhera could come up with a way to free herself, another wolf came rushing through the brush. She had no time to even think if this wolf was here to help her, or her attacker, before he was on the wolf and ripping him away. Uhera could do nothing but stare, wide eyed, in total shock, as her attacker was killed with such vicious efficiency there was no doubt in her mind that her savior had killed before. There was a savagery and a drive to the way this wolf killed it was almost reminiscent on the way Uhera used to watch her mentor take down enemies. When the wolf dropped dead, she was caught between a feeling of awe and being impressed. It took her a moment to realize, but she was looking at the kings own brother.

    Perhaps the fact that Rhaegan was her kings family - or that she had just watched him end a wolf’s life in less than a minute without restraint - should have convinced her to be polite and say thank you, but Uhera had just been attacked and her pride was what was feeling injured; she, of all wolves, had needed to be rescued. She cringed slightly as she picked herself up off the floor, her ribs aching from where she’d been body-checked originally and her throat feeling sore; no doubt both areas would be bruised soon.

    She looked between Rhaegan and the dead wolf. “I didn’t need help.” She spoke through her teeth as she tried to shake the blood from her coat. Not wanting to look disrespectful she kept her head and tail low, her ears hovering near the back of her head; she may not have appreciated being saved per say, but she knew that Rhaegan was her superior, and he had just more than proved he deserved respect.

    Avoiding the topic of injury Uhera motioned her head to the dead wolf and spoke with almost a bored tone. “That wolf, he was a Valerian.”

    He snorted derisively. Of course she wouldn’t thank him. He’d only saved her life. Miserable wench. But what did he expect, really? Licking his lips, Rhaegan looked back down at the body. Blood stained the soil mahogany, running in a slow, dark current. The Watchman didn’t flinch as its sticky warmth reached his paws. “A meaningless death. Whatever he was now, it doesn’t matter.”

    Leaning down, Rhae came to a decision. This Vandr should be made an example of. His body would rot in sight of all, a feast for the carrion eaters and a warning to anyone else foolish enough to test the Black Watch. Jaws closing on the limp throat, the dark wolf hauled his prey up and, posture erect, began the trek towards the heart of the territory. Somewhere near the main den would do.

    The body was heavy, especially with half of it still dragging behind, but Rhaegan was too proud to lower his head or ask help of Uhera.

    Uhera watched Rhaegan and nodded her head slowly. “No-” she spoke with a cool tone, “I suppose it doesn’t.” Her eyes darted to the motionless wolf and her eyes narrowed. She didn’t agree it had been meaningless; no death was ever meaningless; that’s what she had been taught. Whether good intentions or bad, if a wolf killed a wolf – or any other animal for that matter - , he or she had their own reasoning, it meant something to them. There was no such thing as a meaningless death to Uhera, and what did it matter? They were all going to die someday anyway.

    Holding her tongue against her thoughts Uhera just watched in slight confusion as Rhaegan picked the body up by the neck and started hauling it away. Her lips pulled back into a thin line and she blinked after him. What is he doing? She would have asked, but she felt having him drop the body to answer might just aggravate him.

    It was almost humorous for Uhera to watch Rhaegan lug the body away, trying to retain his stature when the body was obviously heavy. She had to give him points for trying though.

    Had it not been that he had just came to her aid she might have turned and walked away, ending the exchange right there, but now she felt at least a little obligated to help him – even though she wasn’t sure what she was helping him with. One heavy sigh and a slight eye roll later she trotted after him. Without a word or missing a step she bent down and clamped her jaws around the soft flesh where the flank met the hip and lifted the dragging end of the wolf off the ground. She walked with her shoulder a half step behind Rhaegans’, keeping him in the lead.

    He acknowledged her aid with a sideways glance,  but did not protest it. Whether she understood what he was doing or not, Rhaegan was unsure. They walked in silence, Uhera tailing dutifully behind him with the carcass. Behind them ran a bloody trail, which grew thinner as the body stiffened and cooled. The scent changed, but the stale fear and pain lingered in its pelt.

    Pausing as they came within sight of the main den, Rhaegan surveyed the rocky mountain slopes for a suitable vista. He sensed the eyes of the Valerians. Some of them must recognize the dead one. Perhaps they even knew him. Or perhaps not.

    Shaking the thought away, Rhaegan led Uhera to a mossy rock jutting out over one of the main paths. A pair of crows fluttered away at their approach. Rhae dropped the corpse with a heavy thud, its red-stained forepaws hanging limply over the edge of the stone. He motioned for Uhera to drop the flank.

    “We’re done here.” He could not say he felt satisfaction, but the task had been completed and now the message would be plain for all to see. Perhaps it would be enough to call the rebels to heel. 

    Somehow, Rhaegan doubted it…