truth be told [taboo/salome!]

[rotwhyler]

It had taken Taboo almost the entire morning to venture through the channel, and when she finally did, she collapsed upon reaching solid, dry ground. Into the afternoon she would lay there, regaining her strength and energy. A snack would be good, but something tells her it'd be imposing to hunt so close to pack territory. It started only a short walk away from her spot, after all. She'd have to wait until her journey back, where she could catch a fish or two, maybe. That's okay, she thought to herself, that sea lion who's suffering I ended yesterday will last me for a good while.

Something about the island made her heart beat fast - perhaps it was the unfamiliarity of it, or the idea that she's so close to pack wolves she can practically taste their scent through her nostrils. She'd been a loner all her life, so being so close to a pack drew out a newfound excitement in her soul. Would she meet a pack wolf? It'd be the first time -- she'd lived a life of solitude mostly, which might explain why she has so much talkative energy built up inside her. As if the universe wanted to answer her question right then and there, she realized, someone was coming. The scent reached her nose probably before hers reached theirs as the wind was in her favor, and with vigor she lifted her head but remained in her lying down position so as not to spook the incoming wolf. Focused, her green eyes trained on the area ahead of her...

Lirriel

[Lirriel]

I lost a friend, somewhere along in the bitterness

He had seen it as he led his packmates out into the sudsy surf, casting his gaze farther upon the foaming sea that toiled in the early hours of morning. It had been some animal, crossing the channel – but duty had kept his paws planted firmly where he stood overlooking his fishers, and he had summarily forgotten the form that had bobbed in the ocean. He had half-convinced himself it was a dolphin, a porpoise, some maritime creature that breached the surface and played tricks upon his eyes – but Iiona’s cursed voice rang in his ears, insistent, even as he called his fishers sand-side and the morning began to ebb into noon.

“A good catch,” he told the ones that prowled nearest – his fishers were a salty lot, brined by the mass of water that was both friend and enemy, and most of them barely acknowledged his subdued compliment. He jerked his head, nose pointed inland, and added, “Take your midday meal once you’ve carried some of the catch back.” He eyed the heap of silver fish and added, “We’ll want to cache the rest. Take care of that as well.”

So saying, he snapped up a sheepshead, the body threatening to slip from his mouth before he drove his fangs deeply into its hide, piercing past the scales to thrust through the white meat that lay beneath. He tossed his head back, catching a better hold of it, and turned away from his subordinates, pelt laid smooth as he trotted off.

It was not unusual for him to eat away from the bulk of the pack – his was an unwanted presence, and while certain wolves might seek out his company, it was still a rare enough occurrence that he rarely stuck around to see if anyone would want him. But he had another reason for splitting away from the group.

I just want to check, he told himself. He would comb the southside of the island, the beaches a strange wolf would most likely land upon – and if he found nothing, then surely it would provide a place of solitude where he might enjoy his meal to the fullest.

The stink of brine clung tightly to the sand-crusted fish, and so Salome was not aware of the wolf until he was almost upon her. His jaw tightened, even as his eyes narrowed – he had emerged from the forest with a suddenness, but it was plain to see why her response was so lacking toward him. The stranger’s pelt was windblown and matted in clumps – indicative of a swim in the sea, if nothing else.

But she was so obviously exhausted, and he had never seen her before – she had to be an outsider, right?

With a snort, he tossed the fish toward her, prowling after it until he was closer, though still a respectable distance away.

“Again?” he asked, with some hint of weariness to his voice. “Stranger, you have entered the Sharktooth Island Pack’s territory – why are you here?”

And he sniffed the air intently, though it was a fool’s endeavor, so close to the ocean – nothing but salt and sea. Still, he did not scent blood, and one of his ears drew backward, quizzical. “You are not injured at least – I suppose the sharks found your form… unappetizing.”

His lips drew back in a small smirk.

rotwhyler		559 words	stock by Ria P. @ dawnthieves
sorry this took a bit!

[rotwhyler]

Again? Do wolves end up beached here often? Of course they do, the channel was the only way to get to the island as far as she knew. At his comment, one of her ears flicked and a grin stretched upon her maw. His fish landed near her, but she didn’t dare make a move for it despite it’s scent catching her stomach’s attention. A pack wolf was more well fed than a loner like her - a scrap for food would just result in injury, not that she wanted to fight for it anyways. She doubted it was an offer to her and more just a way for him to free up his mouth for conversation.

“Any shark would be lucky to have me for a meal, I bet I taste delicious.” Taboo jested, chuckling a bit afterwards. “Anywho, yes, I was left alone for my journey here. I should be so lucky on my way back, assuming you’re not going to take me prisoner or anything...you see, it was purely curiosity that brought me here. I’ve lived in Dove Hills all my life, I’ve never met a pack wolf. Only loners like myself.” She took a pause from her rambling to yawn. “The howls I’ve heard from here drew me in.” Wind swept over her form. A nervousness was churning in her stomach from her inability to predict what this wolf was going to do. Was he going to become aggressive? Wouldn’t he have done that right from the start? Gears were turning in her head as she thought of escape routes if he attacked, which she honestly doubted he would, but one can never be too careful.

”Could you indulge me for a bit of conversation? It seems you’re here alone,” she observed, not scenting any other wolves, albeit also realizing that the smell of the sea could be obstructing her nose. ”I’m deathly curious about you.” She admitted for reasons not even she knows. Taboo wasn’t exactly a secret-keeper, but she also wasn’t one to offer up information about her general whereabouts and about her motives so easily either.

Lirriel

[Lirriel]

I lost a friend, somewhere along in the bitterness

Not so easy to rile, he thought, and his eyes momentarily moved from her face to the sheepshead that was now covered in a fine layer of sand – one of them would have to dunk it in a stream, unless she was the type to enjoy grit with her meal. He supposed that could be possible – it was a special kind of madness that drove mainlanders to seek out Sharktooth purely to sate their own curiosity.

Still, as she spoke, a saucy grin tugged its way onto his face. If she was not one to immediately flare up at his indelicate teasing, then it meant he had found something new to play with – and as fun as Iiona was, there was always that fear that one day he would step too far and plummet off the cliff; each day saw her supporters grow in size, and she was beloved by the gods themselves. It was a dangerous game he played, teasing her so relentlessly, dogging her every step with flashing fangs in the form of biting words. Surely one day she would turn and seize him by the scruff and toss him down into the abyss that always lay just beyond his paws.

As it was, he snorted, making known what he thought of her “delicious” comment. “You certainly don’t look it,” he muttered, before adding, “Lucky you – we were so hoping for a mainlander to be the centerpiece for our feast, but I think even our most voracious eaters would turn their noses up at you.”

He moved forward a step and sniffed the air before saying pointedly, “Ocean trash, my time isn’t so free as yours.”

It was easier to discard the mask of civility he normally wore, because she was simply a wanderer and therefore not one likely to join his pack. With any luck, he could send her back across the channel once she had regained her strength. He would likely get scolded, for abandoning his fishers to take care of the fish themselves, but if the idiots couldn’t follow a work routine that had been established before Salome was even pupped – well, they might as well go drown themselves in the ocean.

But there was the worrying question of “what if” – what if she chose to stay, what if she spoke to Iiona, what if Iiona knew he’d called this wolf ocean trash. He internally winced, just imagining the tongue lashing he would earn, as if Iiona was a mother to administrate licks and nips to her unruly children.

Honestly, the idea of Iiona in a motherly role made him squirm, so he quickly banished the thought from his mind and expelled it with a gusty breath.

“I suppose I wouldn’t want you to die from curiosity,” he admitted, then nodded toward the fish. “I’ll take my midday meal with you, and I’ll answer your questions to the best of my ability.”

No, wait, he was having flashbacks to Azain. He amended, “If you ask too many, I’ll bite your head off.” He could not keep the harassed expression off his face as he spoke.

rotwhyler		520 words	stock by Ria P. @ dawnthieves

[rotwhyler]

It took a few moments more for Taboo to realize this stranger was offering her the fish - utterly grateful, she licks her chops and scoots forward carefully. Still, she keeps an eye on him, briefly thinking about how this could be some nasty trick of some sort because he certainly seemed the type. The way he made the pack sound, cannibalism and all that, caused her mind to reel. Could packs really be like that? Perplexed, she picks the fish up and stands up to her full height so she can bring it to the water to wash off. The sand grits crunched in between her fangs and the scales of the fish, which made her stomach churn, but she said nothing so as not to seem weak. "Certainly you don't mean that? Not the comment about me not being good food, I don't care about that, but your jesting about cannibalism. Is that...true?" She certainly doubted it, but it didn't hurt to ask. Her words are muffled with the fish in her jaws, and even moreso when she starts to wash it off. "I'm sure you're kidding about that. It'd seem not very...good, for your guys' survival. It can't be too often wolves show up here, right?" Question after question, she rambles on, completely disregarding his ocean trash comment. Her skin was thick, and she could let such words roll off her back with ease. It did however bring a chuckle out of her.

Satisfied with the degree to which the fish was cleaned, she ripped into it, taking the half with the head.

"Here! I really appreciate the food, sir." However, he seems to be preoccupied in his own mind. She let hers wander in this instance too; what was he thinking about? Ways to do away with her, to send her off? Options? Possibilities? These are what constantly filled her mind, so she assumed it could only be the same for others! "A death by curiosity is truly a harrowing death indeed." She lilted in between wolfish bites of the food. "I'll start off with...what's your name? Mine's Taboo!"

(Sorry this is sort of short, muse is still yucky.)

[Lirriel]

I lost a friend, somewhere along in the bitterness

Salome blinked and took a step back, turning his gaze inland – the hilly terrain of the island rose, blindingly green and forebodingly inviting – for a moment it was as if he was the stranger washed ashore. Facing away from the mainland, the isle cultivated a sense of remoteness; it was too easy to view it as a tempting Eden, one filled with mysteries, secrets, scandal.

He could grudgingly acknowledge the stranger’s curiosity was warranted, with such a view threatening to engulf him. But he also knew it for what it was – serpents slipped amongst its foliage, and some had even learned to take on the guise of friends.

Maybe that was why he did not fit in – he wore his scales much as he might a second coat, and the acid green of his eyes were always there, warning away any attempts at true camaraderie.

Oh, but she was asking a question, wasn’t she? Her voice was muffled, both by the fish she gripped awkwardly in her mouth and the splash of water that lapped at her lips.

He turned back toward her, and in doing so, was freed from the captivation that had gripped him. Salome snorted, an amused sound; strange creature she was, to half-believe his tales of cannibalism but not take affront to his words about her.

Still, her secondary statement sapped away much of his amusement. “More than you’d think,” he answered. Then, “But you’re right – our main prey is the bounty gifted to us by the sea; beyond that, there are lemurs further afield, though they are wily. Birds, hogs – but mostly fish.”

It was strange, to admit such truths of the island, but she had asked a question and was not so easily rattled by his words – information for entertainment was a small price to pay. He doubted she offered any true threat to his pack.

And, if she did, he knew better than most the dangers that sat in tide pools, bristling spines.

Still, she seemed innocent enough; she offered him back half of the fish, crudely torn, and he took it between his teeth with a careful consideration.

“I could have caught another,” he told her, but it was a rebuke only for the sake of argument – there was no true bite to the words, only the acknowledgement that he was reluctant to rely on others, even when the boon offered was one he had provided.

He was quick to brush the matter aside, settling down onto his belly, wedging the fish between his paws so he might devour it at his leisure. His pack fed too frequently for him to be a voracious eater – instead, his bites were delicate, small snaps of his front teeth.

“I am Salome,” he answered her question, mentally filing away her name. Though she seemed too flighty to stick around, her name was a card he might play in the future. “Lead fisher to the Sharktooth Island Pack, though it means little.”

rotwhyler		496 words	stock by Ria P. @ dawnthieves
ughhh sorry this is super late ;;