Blood

[Shanto]

[/li][li]Ricochet[/size][/font]

The Uuma felt like he was being spoken too like he was a pup. His eyes burned ever so slightly, their colors even brighter. Ricochet's thoughts were brutalized and burned but the feeling of his insecurities and weaknesses. Tag was his best friend, though their views were different and they almost always seemed to come to a common ground between them in their ideas. But this, this Naama was not like the rest, even bold naama's would flinch. They would cower as if their lives depended on it, which they most normally did, and let out a mix between a growl and a whimper. But this Naama, he just felt different.

In a worried manner, mixed with frustration, Ricochet's faced creased. He could only stare at Tag for a second, and with a glance inside at the injured male he spoke, "Tag, you know I would never come to doubt your thoughts, and I know for a fact that you have never killed or let a wolf die to this day," he paused and looked at the ground, seeming to gather his thoughts and then looked up, his eyes burning with confusion almost,"I know why you want to help him... But look at him," His voice was a hushed whisper now for not to the Naama to hear,"To gain this much of... Of a beating.. Something he had to do was big. Very few wolves I have seen have spikes. Sira, is one of them, you know she lost Thor recently and she has surly gained those pups by now. What if.." He didn't finish. Instead he looked with burning eyes upon Tag.

"You know my past. You know what happened to me. I've killed, murdered, some without meaning to, I've lost family. Look at me now." His voice quavered ever so slightly with emotion, he looked to the hills and sky, and looked back to his long time friend, "I know he is in no condition to murder, but this boy is different. Not in a good way." Ricochet's eyes were stern and clouded with memories, "You are the only family I have left, and for wolves other than you and Sara- I have never given a damn."A whine came out of the cabin, it gave Ricochet a glance but his eyes then forcused even bolder back on Tag.

At that moment, in a land to the south, a she-wolf collapsed.

Note: I know you Koa don't now who the she wolf is but its my other character Cheveyo which is the daughter he thinks to be dead. They have both met before but they don't know who each other really is. Ricochet is also the father of Eyolf and Efron and their mother, Sara and stepfather were murdered.

[-sira-]

Tag&Twig.

After hearing is friend speak he felt conflicted. Hs love ad passion for his own kind, or setting it aside for the sake of his friendship. And as ricochet said for himself, the same goes for him. Ricochet and twig were the only family he had left. His mother died in the conservatory. And his brother and sister were sent away to a place he didn't know about. He looked down on the ground, anger and frustration burning up inside of him. It was quiet a position to be out into, he wasn't quiet sure what to do.

He had remembered hearing about the loss of the eastern alpha, Thor. And he knew that Sira was indeed one of the very few wolves with spikes. He wondered what the so called "Naama" had done in order to deserve this punishment. He was never apart of pack life, so he didn't understand. He was only with his family and then ricochet. He didn't even know that there were wolves that were different; so he says. 


It was that moment that also took his mind off his thinking process. A she wolf had entered the equation. Well, she fell into the equation; more or less. He looked back at the Naama resting in the corner, pleading for his help. Then he looked back at the wolf who had fallen. This was yet the conundrum in his opinion. "Twig, check her for consciousness..." he spoke low, hoping this would change the current mind set. The chipmunk responded by crawling down off of ricochet and over to the wolf. 

He bounded over to the fallen wolf and sniffed her fur. She reeked of a southern pride, she was still breathing. But the full evaluation of her condition was useless unless tag was there. Within moments he bounded back over. There were a few high pitched squeaks, which meant she was still alive. "Do you want to check her, or should I?" he looked up at his friend. 

Of course, he still kept one of his ears turn to keep a hearing watch on the wolf behind him. If ricochet had a hard time trusting the wolf, maybe he should take caution. He didn't know what the Naama were capable of, he didn't want it to be a lesson learned experience in the end. "I will take caution to your words... I will watch him until he is able to maintain balance... And that is all, than we will leave. I won't allow him to be ale to walk when I am still around. Is that alright with you?" he hoped these conditions would "fly" with his friend. If not, then he was going to have a hard time ignoring his inner instinct. 

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[Warg]

Continuing to stare at them, what little he could see of Ricochet from his position, and Tag's back, the naama could only sigh softly as they merely gave him passing glances. He was worth as much to them as they to he. The naama shivered briskly. Despite the warm spring air, he was very cold. Whispering another quiet whimper, he struggled to curl up a bit, licking the one or two of his lightly bleeding wounds that he could reach. They pained him, each one a sharp jabbing pain, times eight. His muscles all around each wound were either torn from having to function around the spike, or worn out from the tension and stress of the day. He was tired, a little scared, and so very weak.

He wondered idly at what they spoke, but really did not care. He only hoped they weren't plotting on offing him during the night. His growls not a few moments ago, contrasted sharply with the third clear whine of the evening. He wanted them to at least leave him alone. If he wasn't a growling snarling menace, they might. Heaving a soft sigh, the naama slipped into sleep, his weakness, loss of blood, and all the stress of the evening compounding to make his sleep rather deep, and much needed.

[Shanto]

[/li][li]Ricochet[/size][/font]

The big brute watched his best friend lay down his conditions. They were not as ideal to him as leaving right then and now, but Ricochet knew Tag would never leave the injured male with out a real blow-out battle. He thought for a second, he could choose to make Tag leave and possible lose the only best friend he had ever had, or stay against his wishes until this naama was well enough to maintain proper balance. It was tough for him, but at the same time it wasn't. Tag would be his best friend and he would not loose that over a bloody naama.

"Fine. We will stay until he can maintain his balance but,"Ricochet looked deadly serious into the eyes of his fellow bachelor male,We will not let our guards down.. No matter how weak or nice he may seem..." he sent a light , almost carefree, look at the naama. His ears went back ever so slightly, he hid the un-trust the best he could in the back of his brain. The naama was bloodied, broken, and beaten; but somehow Ricochet believed that he was not everything he saw. The bachelor was never trust, and never had been. Then again, if you were blackmailed into murder by you own father, would you trust anyone?"After all, we all have our own sins."

[-sira-]

Tag&Twig.

A wave of relief settled over him. He could tell his friend was unhappy with the decision they had settled on. But he was glad that he could still hold true and blue to his personal morals. "Thank you, ricochet... I promise we will leave as soon as possible..." he understood how much this tugged between their friendship. But alas, true friends always stay by each other. And he was grateful for the fact that his friend was staying with him until his time here was not needed.

[ooc;; Sorry guys. This post sucks a lot.]

[/size][/font]

[Warg]

(This should help!)

The naama slept peacefully through the night, so deeply that if he dreamed, he wasn't aware of it. Waking briefly with the morning to some disturbance, he soon fell back asleep. This time though, he did dream.

Howling. Not of song to the moon, or calling for gathering, but of pain. About four Uuma weave in and out through a small pack of traveling wolves. The pups are gathered in the middle, and defended, but one by one, the defenders are killed. Finally, one of the pups, only 9 months old, growls and bites the nose of an Uuma that came too close to his sister. More fighting breaks out, and the young pup gets his fangs into the neck of one of the injured uuma, finishing it off. The rest of the Uumas are enraged, but the Naama is already running away, swearing vengeance to himself, crying inside as his sisters screams quickly fall into silence.

A terrible screeched yelp harolded the awakening of the naama, who found himself cowering, shivering excessively, panting heavily with pitiful whimpers non stop in the corner. Looking around with terror-filled eyes, he finds the Uumas staring at him and quickly tried to silence himself, laying his head down and closing his eyes. He didn't know what to think right now, if thinking he even should. The sight of them was enough to enrage him, but so to did it fill him with terror. He could not even move right now, so stiff were his aching muscles. Still panting, the naama finally began to settle down from his nightmares. It had only been a month since that day, and the memory was still fresh and haunted him.

His stomach growled hungrily. Opening his eyes again, the naama tried to move his lead-weighted self, but his entire right side was terribly stiff and sore. Laying on his left side, he decided to get into a slightly more comfortable position. Groaning softly, his left paw stretched out a little, trying to bring some circulation back into himself. His hind left leg also tucked under himself, and he managed to roll up onto his stomach.

Looking back at himself, he sighed heavily. Pushing with his left paw, the naama tried to twist, licking at the nearest of the wounds that he could reach. A wolf's saliva has antibacterial properties, and stimuates the production of new cells to promote healing. But as he could only reach a couple of them, he licked them as much as he could, before finally relaxing and laying back down. His gaze returned to the two wolves, back at his form, and back to them. Normally, a pack mate would be helping to lick his wounds but right now all he had was two Uuma which he didn't trust as far as he could throw right now, but they were all he had. He felt a brief relief and wonder at them, for he had made it through the night somehow, and they were still there. He couldn't understand it, and yet, while he wasn't exactly grateful, he found it useful to his needs. He was not about to forgive them for what their kind had done to his pack, and yet, he was forced to accept their aide, lest he would never get his revenge.

Licking his dry and cracked muzzle, his belly growled again insistantly. He had not had any water for the past couple of days, aside from the one lick of spilt water. His gaze shifted to the two wolves again, and then looked up to Tag. He was very hungry again, and this one had brought him food once, maybe he might do it again? His eyes flicked to the bone and fragmented remnants of the rabbit from yesterday, then shifted sadly back up to Tag with a low, heartfelt whimper as puppyish as he could make it.