Moving right along...somewhat

[Warg]

Every step was a limp, and had been thus ever since leaving the Cabin. The naama was feeling a lot better since his run in with Sira, and though he wasn't great, he was up and about. He could run again, and that is all that really mattered. Hunting was a chore. He could only run for so long. A little here, a little there, mouse, rat, slow bird. His wounds were all closed but staying in one spot for a few days, well that would take a little time.

Stopping by the river, the naama lowered his head to drink, lapping at the cool waters with much haste. He had not had a good solid long drink in a few days as well. He even waded in a few steps, laid down, and rolled about for a little bit. It was hot out, and the water felt so good. Turning back, the naama licked at his once wounded side, getting off whatever blood was left.

He was not really paying attention to his surroundings.

[Sandtiger]

What a strange scent! It reminded Eyolf of, well, nothing really. Ever since his encounter with Cougar, he had told his experiences when confronted about it, and then a few days later, his brother Efron left for the Northern pack. The same pack Cougar was from. His brother's leaving had left the beige yearling grieving, and almost angry, possibly. He had considered once joining his brother, or at least attempting to. But then he thought of Cheveyo and all the other Southerners. He realized he had a greater duty to them than simply to himself. The innocent male became enraged even more about his brother once he realized this. Eyolf was over the initial rage and grief, and foremost, the shock. He was still brought to tears and such at the mention of Efron, or as rumors spread like the wind, now known as Swithun. But for the most part, the trickster was back to his sunny self. All he knew now is that the scent, while wolf, was different somehow, but surely injured somewhat recently. Whatever or whoever this is, I just hope he/she's friendly! Aalthough the beige male could Shape-shift into whatever he willed, or now heal at a touch (A secondary, recently discovered power, not fully mastered.), he looked like an ordinary wolf, like a Naama, if you will. Trekking with his distinct easy grace, so like the male's personality, Eyolf came to a stream a little ways from the border. He instantly cringed, for he saw the wolf at last, a male similar in age, if not a little younger than him. The yearling's brown eyes gazed with a strange sympathy at the Naama, who he did not know was Naama yet, as he looked over the closed, but evident wounds all along the other wolf. Oh little Eyolf had heard of Naama, but did not know the distinctive features of a Naama, having never encountered one personally before. They were told to be wild savages of normal looking wolves, but they had no special abilities. His brown tipped ears were alert, but his head was dipped and his tail was held parallel to the ground. He smiled awkwardly, trying to convey a friendly appearance, so as not to fight. He definitely ain't looking to well, the poor guy! But he smells so different! Lyrics: Uuma, Naama, does this have to be so violent? Notes: N/A OOC: N/A

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[Warg]

With a few gentle shakes, tossing water in all directions, the Naama took another long drink. He watched fish swimming by, and like a playful puppy, pounced on a couple. He was allowed to have his little moments, he'd had to grow up so fast! Of course he didn't catch anything, but it was fun anyway. Still, the Naama had not noticed the other, thinking himself well enough alone.

But when he turned to climb the bank again, he froze instantly, and just stared at the other. He squinted at him a little bit, unsure and hesitant. His tail sank a bit, ears lowering. He was not in the mood to fight, and would rather appear unaggressive and just move along.

[Sandtiger]

He kept the same smile on his face as his eyes brightened at the sight of his fellow young wolf playing in the shallow stream. The strange male didn't seem to notice him just yet, or if he did, was ignoring him quite blatantly. Neither bothered Eyolf especially so. Then suddenly Eyolf was spooked, his hackles and all the rest of his fur standing on end instantly, as the Naama suddenly acknowledged and stared at him. Breathing deeply through his mouth and nose, slowly Eyolf's heartbeat returned to normal. Than he couldn't help but crack a bright, shining smile. Why had he gotten so scared at that little gesture? As he watched the other wolf's ears pull back and stare at him with a guarded cautiousness, he couldn't help but feel the other seemed of little trouble. Especially considering the healing wounds. Maybe I could help him, if he let me... Eyolf wondered if the male would let him help with those wounds. Though newly acquired and not fully mastered, the beige Southerner's healing powers were efficient to help at least somewhat. The draining feeling of using his power reminded him of how his energy drained when in Morph, draining gradually. He had quickly discovered though, that depending on the severity of the injury or illness, it drained much, much more energy, leaving the wolf paler-looking and shaky with exhaustion, or at least, that happened when he was in morph for much too long and finally returned to true-form. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, puppy-like ears flopping about, the male looked directly at the male with a friendly look. He figured since the male seemed harmless enough (Eyolf was much to innocent at times to realize the Naama could still mangle him if he got a good enough grip.) and didn't seem hostile, he could spare to be relaxed. He should have learned his lesson with Cougar about foreigners. For the male made the mistake of speaking in his distinct Uuma voice, one that made it obvious, what, and who he really was. I don't know about you, but I'm not up for fighting today, y' know? Get me right? So how about maybe I heal those nasty gashes on your back and you get going off Southern Pack land? I'm pretty sure Brock would have your hide, than my hide, if he knew I was doing this," - Eyolf offered with some awkwardness, but good intentions. He neglected to mention that Brock was Alpha, but assuming the male had some previous pack experience, he figured that would be assumed. He smiled brightly at the other wolf. Ya that wasn't weird... Lyrics: The jester becomes the jested, the healer becomes the hurt... If fate decides as such... Notes: N/A OOC: N/A

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[Warg]

The naama watched the other's very move with great unease. He was not in the mood for dealing with someone at the moment, and if past experience were any indication, there did not seem to be many...or any...other naama around here. The obvious conclusion to him, was that they had certainly all been slain. Why else would a once so abundant race be now dwindled next to none? The naama sighed softly, his expression taking on one of either sadness, pain, or both. He certainly was not naive enough to expect this one to be any different from the previous he had met. His eyes narrowed slightly as the Uuma shook his head a bit, clearly thinking about something. Well, no matter, it was none of his concern. 

Having already lack of hope in the possibility of this being a normal, fellow naama, he was the least surprised when he spoke. All suspicions confirmed, the naama could only sigh again, and prepare for whatever conflict to come. Of course, the words were lost on him. He would probably never learn their tongue, he had no desire to. The naama's only reply was to further flatten and twist his ears back with a low rumble deep within his throat. His lips drew up slightly, head dipping lower. His stance was one more of defense, or passive aggressive. He was more afraid then angry. He wanted to appear as fierce as possible, but lacked both strength and motivation. What was the point? He was in no shape to fight, but like any wounded, frightened, simple creature, he would fight until his dyeing breath if he had to. Sure, he'd been helped once by an Uuma, but that was only because he really had no choice. That one would get his soon enough, he was not about to lforgive one the crimes of all. None of them were truly nice or safe; that was a delusion he had quickly rid himself of. With his right side grieving him with ghost pains, his growls were interspersed with the occasional whimper. A mix of warning and fear, spoke that he was ready to fight, but was more likely to bolt if the situation worsened. Perhaps the other might just go away?

While the other did not appear to be much interested in a fight, one could never be certain with these unnaturals. His gaze left the Uuma for the briefest moment, flicking to the left and right to assure himself it was only the one, and planning any exit route. With the river at his back and the Uuma not to far ahead, he doubted much a chance for getting away. He abosultely hated the feeling of being trapped, it was the cabin all over again. Wishing for the millionth time that he was home, safe, surrounded by his pack mates, the naama waited with a sinking feeling inside, predicting in his mind that this was not going to end well for someone, and if he had any say, it would not be him.

[Sandtiger]

As the young wolf waited for a response, it grew increasingly clear, as the other wolf's ears twisted even further back and the start of a deep growl seemed to begin, that this male might not even be Uuma. Eyolf's eyes watched the other wolf, who seemed to grow increasingly anxious, like a trapped thing wanting to get out. And now. The male was giving mixed messages, Eyolf decided, with cautious, worried brown eyes. No longer was the bright smile planted on the jester's face. Instead, Eyolf stood poised, leaning back as though ready to pounce, or in a ready-to-leap appearance on his front, his brown eyes staring intensely at the other male. He knew how to fight, somewhat, sibling rivalry wasn't entirely useless. But now he was dealing with a Naama, he thought. He eyed the injuries on the Naama's back and shook his head, as if not wanting to think about it. Oh no, oh no, oh no. What do I do!? The dude's a Naama, I'm pretty sure! And he seems not entirely friendly here! Growing increasingly agitated or panicked, one of the two, Eyolf's tail rose high into the air, trying to assert his position as a member of this pack which controlled the lands, hoping the Naama would get the message. His ears were perked and slanting forward, his eyes serious and his tail vertical were obviously trying to convey: leave. He had heard of other packs taking Naama as slaves, to do the bidding of their Uuma masters. But that seemed sickening to Eyolf. Eyolf thought since he and even the birds had freedom, why not the Naama? Slavery was just plain ruthless, if you asked the adolescent. He was a shape-shifter, so the other wolf had nothing to worry about on part of flying fireballs on his tail or false illusions coming out of no where. Holding his assertive stance, chocolate brown eyes locked on the others eyes, a message transgressing the races through them, it was simply wolf to wolf, saying: it's your move. Leave, or don't. I hate to do this, but if someone's got to get a rude awakening, it's not going to be me. Lyrics: N/A Notes: N/A OOC: N/A

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[Warg]

The naama watched the other grow increasingly more dominant. He was furious with himself for being so hurt, and furious more so at the situation he had allowed himself to fall in. Taking in the posture of the other wolf, the Naama finally seemed to sink into himself, tail drawing in a curl around his feet, his mouth closing, honeyed gaze giving the other a good, last glare before breaking eye contact and dropping to the ground at his feet. If the Uuma wasn't going to charge first, well fine, he wasn't going to either.

This act of submit infuriated him further, embarressment briefly flickering across his features as he lifted his gaze to peer down river, back at the other, and started to make his move further south, west of the other Uuma. It helped his mood somewhat to note this one didn't look weird, or had a chipmunk on his head, or wasn't shooting spikes at him. He wondered if it were even an uuma at all, except that it talked. He didn't care, he was clearly unwelcome and that was fine enough for him.

He wasn't sure of where he was, what direction was what, or where to go from here. He only wanted to find safe ground and rest some more, with a meal somewhere in between.

[Sandtiger]

Eyolf's gaze and posture was held steady as the Naama gave him an angry glare, but submitted, and left, seemingly heading downriver. Eyolf frowned. That was not good, if the other male was heading downriver... Eyolf suddenly let out a flabbergasted yelp and his eyes widened. Was the Naama serious about the direction he was going in? Well, if he was being reasonable, the other male seemed rather tired and angry. And if Eyolf was angry and hurt like that, would he particularly care where he was going? Eyolf's eyes took a pained expression for a brief moment, but than he relented. Suddenly the beige male raced up parallel a good few yards form the other wolf and stopped once, breathing deeply, once he was ahead a little of the other wolf. He stood in front of the Naama once more and Eyolf sighed again. Even if he didn't want to, it wouldn't be good if he let the Naama just wander around the territory. And so, to demonstrate his point in the most obvious way possible, as he knew, even if his heart wasn't in it, the Shape-shifter morphed. He didn't morph into a badger, or a deer, or a small song-bird. Nor another wolf, or a cougar, or a squirrel. No, the beige male's coat darkened to a deep brown color, and before any one knew it, where a small year-old wolf had been standing, now stood a large, adult grizzly bear. The bear, which was really Eyolf, reared up to stand on two legs, black eyes eying the Naama. Eyolf opened his now large, shorter jowls and roared with all the natural force a bear had. I hate bear morph, so bulky! Lyrics: N/A Notes: Sorry for previous misunderstanding. If this is what you'd consider power-playing, just let me know and I'll change it. =) OOC: N/A

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[Warg]

((It's not powerplay at all, you merely got ahead of him, anyone could at the moment. And LOL I feel bad for the poor naama.))

Trudging along slowly with his head still down, he did not make it far when pounding feet behind him carried Eyolf to arrive in front of him. The naama stopped and crouched, eyeing Eyolf nervously. Why was he not being allowed to go this way? It slowly clicked that maybe it was the deeper into his territory.

No sooner was this notion realized, then the wolf was changing before his eyes. Watching the Uuma shift effortlessly into a massive brown bear, right in front of him, was just about enough to make the naama wish he could of died with the rest of his pack. Instantly gripped with fear, the Naama cowered, gave a pitiful whimpered bark, and began back pedaling quickly until he could get just far enough to turn around and run.

Running for meat was bad enough, running for fear of his life was worse. The naama tucked tail and ran, stumbling often as his right shoulders refused to cooperate. Damn the Uuma, damn them all. He did not know how much more of this he could take.