Post by Kvatch on Jul 10, 2012 22:17:20 GMT -5
| Brutal, a male wolf |
| Grim, a male wolf |
Somewhere near the two-river fork.
------------------------------------------------------------
Painfully, agonizing dread. It sets in the moment that Brutal walks away from Althaea, leaving her to a conversation he hopes will involve a more pleasant exchange with family then the one he fears he is about to endure. Already he can feel the tension building, the rancor that's no doubt festering in the guts of his dear brother like a piece of fetid meat- possibly escaped, but always inevitable. And with this being something of a fact, Brutal is of the mind to get it over and done with now, so at least maybe one of them might feel the better for it. Well that and at this fuming, blind pace, Grim's going to be leading them into Cerulean territory in no time. And while there are likely many way to go about provoking a highly annoyed wolf into conversation, as a brother, Brutal is unable to avoid the temptation of asking the most obvious, asinine question possible, just for the giggles of it. Because well, sometimes Grim needs a taste of his own medicine. So with the pleasure that is afforded on account of this, it makes Brutal smirk just a touch. "Something on your mind, brother?"
With each and every step that carries him farther away from the proximity of that uppity little bitch, her spineless daddy, and his whole pack of whiny arrogant over-grown wolf-pups, Grim started to feel just a smidgen better. Not that he holds out hope that he could just keep walking and Brutal would follow, after all, his brother has made his intentions perfectly clear. Snort. Scoff. Nonetheless, this does not keep Grim from pondering on the chances to change his brother's mind. What would it take? Before, it all just seemed like a moment borne out of necessity, as if rescuing this..Ute pack, would somehow satisfy or fulfill the emptiness in Brutal. That by saving these wolves, he would be saving the family he lost. But it wasn't enough, so it would seem. And now..this. As he continues to shoulder and shove his way down a old game trail, it would suffice to say that Grim does indeed fall victim to his own poison, those nearly flippant words as uttered by his hulking brother hook deep into the festering flesh of his ire, turning him hard upon the dark wolf trailing at his heels with a throaty snarl, "Likely more than we can say for you, 'cause I'm pretty damn sure you've lost it! You're throwing your lot in with them, Brute? THEM? They -hate- you! Didn't ya hear 'em all back there? Or maybe you've become both deaf AND dumb?"
It can't be said that Grim's reaction is unexpected, after all, Brutal baited that hook with every intention of getting his brother to bite. Of course, the vehemence in which he does so is something of a surprise, but in all their long years spent together, Brutal has seen his brother much more angrier than this. Still yet, it does not make the perceived contempt his sibling seems to posses towards the Ute wolf pack any less alarming. No, this is something quite detached from resentment- this is a good, clean hatred. But why? This is perhaps the most disconcerting question that crosses Brutal's mind and frustrates him more than any insult that could be thrown in his direction. Not just because he is hearing this from Grim, but rather, that he just finished listening to that same damn song and dance out of Ute's younger generation. This connection brings the dark wolf to diminish any lingering tendrils of amusement, while a deep frown sets itself across his grizzled muzzle. "Yes, they probably do hate me, Grim. But I'm fairly sure you've played your part in this development. I'll not deny I haven't been the most amiable of wolves, nor the most sociable, but at least I have tried even if I have failed. That's more than we can say for you, isn't it brother?" Brutal can't help the snort of disapproval that follows, "I'm not as deaf and dumb as you'd like to think I am."
There is nothing quite so disarming as getting the proverbial wind knocked out of your sails, especially by well placed blame. Brutal's words, and the subsequent guilt that they inspire, are enough to dampen the furious fire that had been burning behind Grim's golden eyes, though it is still not nearly enough to extinguish it, as told by the sharp retort that follows. "Well excuse me for hoping that was the case! Because at least then I might understand why you insist on hanging around when you're clearly not wanted." Giving his head a rueful shake, the grey wolf snorts irritably, "You didn't even ask how I felt! Not that you'd give two craps one way or the other about what would make me happy, so long as you're getting what you need out of it. Just don't expect it to last. This ain't gonna bring Naira back, Brutal. And that saucy little thing you've been makin' eyes at isn't nothin' but a waste of time. Wolves like us don't belong with wolves like them, Brute."
The sarcasm suffered at Grim's apology is enough to cause the massive wolf to exhale a exasperated sigh, but as tolerant as he struggles to be for this, the next round of insolent ammunition fired at him is not so easily absorbed. In fact, it causes Brutal's hackles to bristle upon his thick neck and broad shoulders, followed by a assertive curling of his lips at the corners of his dark flews. With his yellow eyes fixed upon his brother, Brutal takes a few imposing steps forward, a coarse growl reverberating in the depths of his throat. "You're forgetting yourself, brother." comes his words of warning, the seriousness behind this reminder enforced by a few more bold steps. "Because before you even start trying to convince yourself of that injustice, I'd have you remember just how much I have suffered in the effort to fulfill your needs and wants. Then, the one time I /ever/ asked the same from you, your selfishness cost me my family, MY happiness!" Another growl escapes the dark wolf, the sound fraught with his frustration that he should be having this conversation at all. "Wolves like us? You mean to say wolves like you?" Yellow eyes narrow down and Brutal gives his head a slow, almost pitiful shake, "I am not like you, Grim. There is no part of me that desires to walk this earth and not share my life with those who would share their life with me. I've been reminded that living is not just surviving day to day, but making the best out of the days you are given. I had almost forgot that." Brutal sighs now, a soft sound that seems to smooth away all the rough and angry lines on his face, leaving now only sadness. "This is the path I have chosen. Hate it if you will, but I'll not be led astray from it. I'm not forcing you to take this road with me, Grim. As much as I'm sure you'd love to play the martyr, you are free to choose for yourself. I'm not going to tell you what you should do, brother, not this time." As he finishes speaking, so is he done with this conversation, lingering just long enough to look upon his brother with a expression very near to remorse. "Don't bother finding me until you've made up your mind." As he turns and begins to move off, these words sound cold and bitter even to Brutal, but it does not make them any less necessary.
No matter how many times he has over-stepped his bounds in the past, the threatening posture assumed by Brutal under these provocations never fails to arouse in Grim a sense of unease and a worry for the bodily harm that might come of it. Not that Brutal has ever truly wounded any part of Grim, save for his dignity, but the same could not be said of their father. And it is this memory, accompanied by the mirrored likeness found in Brutal, that will forever cause Grim to cringe at the sight of that angry face and violent demeanor. Of course, it does nothing to stifle the disdain seething just beneath the surface, though Brutal's reminder for past transgressions does serve to douse the flames until they just hiss and smoke. With his ragged ears laying back against his head, Grim cannot bring himself to meet his brother's gaze, but instead, stares at the ground between them as he listens to those painful words fraught with so much certitude. In the end, it is clear to Grim that he will not win this battle of wills. At least not like this. And while there are few things in this world that frighten Grim, the thought of losing his brother chills him to the bone. It grips his heart and complicates his breathing, until with the uttering of those departing words, the grey male struggles to find his voice. In the end, he just watches as Brutal's dark figure disappears out of sight, eliciting a involuntary whimper as his hind legs give out and he wilts back upon them, his voice squeaking out in a hoarse whisper, "Don't leave me." But he already has. All because of them. They. The Ute. If it's a reason to hate that they want, well he'll give it to them. Served up cold, with a side of just deserts and some dog drool to wash it down with! Grim swore to himself he'd never do something like this to Brutal again, but Brutal can't do this to him!
| Grim, a male wolf |
Somewhere near the two-river fork.
------------------------------------------------------------
Painfully, agonizing dread. It sets in the moment that Brutal walks away from Althaea, leaving her to a conversation he hopes will involve a more pleasant exchange with family then the one he fears he is about to endure. Already he can feel the tension building, the rancor that's no doubt festering in the guts of his dear brother like a piece of fetid meat- possibly escaped, but always inevitable. And with this being something of a fact, Brutal is of the mind to get it over and done with now, so at least maybe one of them might feel the better for it. Well that and at this fuming, blind pace, Grim's going to be leading them into Cerulean territory in no time. And while there are likely many way to go about provoking a highly annoyed wolf into conversation, as a brother, Brutal is unable to avoid the temptation of asking the most obvious, asinine question possible, just for the giggles of it. Because well, sometimes Grim needs a taste of his own medicine. So with the pleasure that is afforded on account of this, it makes Brutal smirk just a touch. "Something on your mind, brother?"
With each and every step that carries him farther away from the proximity of that uppity little bitch, her spineless daddy, and his whole pack of whiny arrogant over-grown wolf-pups, Grim started to feel just a smidgen better. Not that he holds out hope that he could just keep walking and Brutal would follow, after all, his brother has made his intentions perfectly clear. Snort. Scoff. Nonetheless, this does not keep Grim from pondering on the chances to change his brother's mind. What would it take? Before, it all just seemed like a moment borne out of necessity, as if rescuing this..Ute pack, would somehow satisfy or fulfill the emptiness in Brutal. That by saving these wolves, he would be saving the family he lost. But it wasn't enough, so it would seem. And now..this. As he continues to shoulder and shove his way down a old game trail, it would suffice to say that Grim does indeed fall victim to his own poison, those nearly flippant words as uttered by his hulking brother hook deep into the festering flesh of his ire, turning him hard upon the dark wolf trailing at his heels with a throaty snarl, "Likely more than we can say for you, 'cause I'm pretty damn sure you've lost it! You're throwing your lot in with them, Brute? THEM? They -hate- you! Didn't ya hear 'em all back there? Or maybe you've become both deaf AND dumb?"
It can't be said that Grim's reaction is unexpected, after all, Brutal baited that hook with every intention of getting his brother to bite. Of course, the vehemence in which he does so is something of a surprise, but in all their long years spent together, Brutal has seen his brother much more angrier than this. Still yet, it does not make the perceived contempt his sibling seems to posses towards the Ute wolf pack any less alarming. No, this is something quite detached from resentment- this is a good, clean hatred. But why? This is perhaps the most disconcerting question that crosses Brutal's mind and frustrates him more than any insult that could be thrown in his direction. Not just because he is hearing this from Grim, but rather, that he just finished listening to that same damn song and dance out of Ute's younger generation. This connection brings the dark wolf to diminish any lingering tendrils of amusement, while a deep frown sets itself across his grizzled muzzle. "Yes, they probably do hate me, Grim. But I'm fairly sure you've played your part in this development. I'll not deny I haven't been the most amiable of wolves, nor the most sociable, but at least I have tried even if I have failed. That's more than we can say for you, isn't it brother?" Brutal can't help the snort of disapproval that follows, "I'm not as deaf and dumb as you'd like to think I am."
There is nothing quite so disarming as getting the proverbial wind knocked out of your sails, especially by well placed blame. Brutal's words, and the subsequent guilt that they inspire, are enough to dampen the furious fire that had been burning behind Grim's golden eyes, though it is still not nearly enough to extinguish it, as told by the sharp retort that follows. "Well excuse me for hoping that was the case! Because at least then I might understand why you insist on hanging around when you're clearly not wanted." Giving his head a rueful shake, the grey wolf snorts irritably, "You didn't even ask how I felt! Not that you'd give two craps one way or the other about what would make me happy, so long as you're getting what you need out of it. Just don't expect it to last. This ain't gonna bring Naira back, Brutal. And that saucy little thing you've been makin' eyes at isn't nothin' but a waste of time. Wolves like us don't belong with wolves like them, Brute."
The sarcasm suffered at Grim's apology is enough to cause the massive wolf to exhale a exasperated sigh, but as tolerant as he struggles to be for this, the next round of insolent ammunition fired at him is not so easily absorbed. In fact, it causes Brutal's hackles to bristle upon his thick neck and broad shoulders, followed by a assertive curling of his lips at the corners of his dark flews. With his yellow eyes fixed upon his brother, Brutal takes a few imposing steps forward, a coarse growl reverberating in the depths of his throat. "You're forgetting yourself, brother." comes his words of warning, the seriousness behind this reminder enforced by a few more bold steps. "Because before you even start trying to convince yourself of that injustice, I'd have you remember just how much I have suffered in the effort to fulfill your needs and wants. Then, the one time I /ever/ asked the same from you, your selfishness cost me my family, MY happiness!" Another growl escapes the dark wolf, the sound fraught with his frustration that he should be having this conversation at all. "Wolves like us? You mean to say wolves like you?" Yellow eyes narrow down and Brutal gives his head a slow, almost pitiful shake, "I am not like you, Grim. There is no part of me that desires to walk this earth and not share my life with those who would share their life with me. I've been reminded that living is not just surviving day to day, but making the best out of the days you are given. I had almost forgot that." Brutal sighs now, a soft sound that seems to smooth away all the rough and angry lines on his face, leaving now only sadness. "This is the path I have chosen. Hate it if you will, but I'll not be led astray from it. I'm not forcing you to take this road with me, Grim. As much as I'm sure you'd love to play the martyr, you are free to choose for yourself. I'm not going to tell you what you should do, brother, not this time." As he finishes speaking, so is he done with this conversation, lingering just long enough to look upon his brother with a expression very near to remorse. "Don't bother finding me until you've made up your mind." As he turns and begins to move off, these words sound cold and bitter even to Brutal, but it does not make them any less necessary.
No matter how many times he has over-stepped his bounds in the past, the threatening posture assumed by Brutal under these provocations never fails to arouse in Grim a sense of unease and a worry for the bodily harm that might come of it. Not that Brutal has ever truly wounded any part of Grim, save for his dignity, but the same could not be said of their father. And it is this memory, accompanied by the mirrored likeness found in Brutal, that will forever cause Grim to cringe at the sight of that angry face and violent demeanor. Of course, it does nothing to stifle the disdain seething just beneath the surface, though Brutal's reminder for past transgressions does serve to douse the flames until they just hiss and smoke. With his ragged ears laying back against his head, Grim cannot bring himself to meet his brother's gaze, but instead, stares at the ground between them as he listens to those painful words fraught with so much certitude. In the end, it is clear to Grim that he will not win this battle of wills. At least not like this. And while there are few things in this world that frighten Grim, the thought of losing his brother chills him to the bone. It grips his heart and complicates his breathing, until with the uttering of those departing words, the grey male struggles to find his voice. In the end, he just watches as Brutal's dark figure disappears out of sight, eliciting a involuntary whimper as his hind legs give out and he wilts back upon them, his voice squeaking out in a hoarse whisper, "Don't leave me." But he already has. All because of them. They. The Ute. If it's a reason to hate that they want, well he'll give it to them. Served up cold, with a side of just deserts and some dog drool to wash it down with! Grim swore to himself he'd never do something like this to Brutal again, but Brutal can't do this to him!