Solo Ramifications

[Kyo]

Continued solo from Stubborn as an Ox (or Sheep).
66th of Fall, 515 AV
late afternoon

The ram had not gone far. It was tired and in unknown territory, uncomfortable, separated from its flock. The rope that had been looped around its neck hung forlornly.

Still, it eyed the coyote with a gamely gaze, and shook its head once as if to bring attention to its curled horns.

It had only taken the coyote a little while to track it down with his nose, but with his various injuries it felt like it had taken much longer. It had been a long day. Trouble at the Pride. Trouble catching the ram. Trouble with the wild-woman. And now he had to catch the ram again.

For now, the coyote laid on his belly, watching but not moving, resting the soreness of his head, his foot, his side. The ram eyed him back with a stern, distrustful look, and the coyote let out a woebegone sigh, putting his head on his paws to wait.

---

Backup came, but the coyote was not entirely certain he should have called them. His dogs gave a snuffling greeting, and they were not pleased by what they saw and smelled. Sister was especially angry. She disliked when her coyote-brother was hurt by something, particularly something unknown. When he tried to nudge his wet nose to her side to placate her, she shuffled away, head lowered and shoulders rippling, the fur on the ridge of her back standing straight.

Brother was not so upset, but then he had always been the blither of the pair. After his short, tail-wagging greeting he focused instead on the ram, bringing Sister's attention to it. Her golden eyes watched it with an intense, hunting coolness. The ram was something to displace her displeasure upon.

Now the coyote was even more uncertain he had done the right thing. He had called his dogs to him to help with the ram, because he had known he could not catch it again on his own... but he didn't want them to kill it. He needed it, so that he could bring it to exchange for Ramsay.

But how would he explain that idea --capture, not kill-- to his hungry packmates? They were not like Pack and Lightning and Thunder, raised to herd and not bite, living with the humans and not having to hunt for their food. His dogs were wild. The coyote lacked the words to explain to them what he needed... and even if he had been able to explain fully, he doubted his dogs would understand. To them, the ram was a meal. There was no other reason to chase it.

Somehow, he would have to balance their attack. Let them go after the animal, let them scare it into submission, and then get them to stop.

[Kyo]

They approached in the typical attack formation. The coyote limped at the lead, in the middle. Brother was to the left, Sister to the right.

As they moved, the dogs fanned out further to either side. But, to their collective surprise, the ram did not budge. The dogs stopped moving, hesitating, and Brother cast the coyote an ear-pricked look of question.

The ram was not doing what it was supposed to do, and that upset their battle charge. Usually prey turned and fled, and the dogs would run in from the sides and drive it until it tired or made a mistake. They would snap at the sides and legs, hoping to trip it or injure it, and once it was down --or had slowed-- they would attack the neck and head. Then the animal's throat would be ripped out or the neck broken or the windpipe crushed, and it would die, and that would be the hunt.

The ram wasn't running, though. It planted its feet and lowered its head warningly, as if it might charge. The coyote understood: the ram was tired and knew it would not outrun the dogs' fresh legs, and so was choosing to fight. If it proved dangerous enough with its battering horns, the dogs might leave it alone to seek out easier prey.

But the dogs did not understand this, all they saw was something unexpected, and it threw them off their guard. Sister did the smart thing, circling to the side and around to the back of the ram so it wasn't facing her. Brother did the stupid thing and approached it incautiously, head-on.

The ram lowered its head further, dug its hooves in, and charged.

[Kyo]

As much as the dogs had not been expecting the ram to stand its ground, they were not expecting it to be the one to chase. Brother rushed forward at it, oblivious to the danger of those horns, maybe thinking that he would outbluff the stubborn creature. That was not good, not good. The coyote had felt the power of those horns. His ribs were still aching, they hurt with every breath. If the ram hit Brother full-force in the head or neck...

Very not good.

The coyote gave a sharp, high bark, one of alert, of warning. It was a noise that he did not give often. Brother startled and swerved to the side. Too late. The ram bucked into him, smashing into his hind leg.

Brother was thrown to the ground, baying out his pain as the stunned leg buckled out from under him. The ram gave a follow up but the red-brown dog had already stood and began three-leg-running away, tail tucked. The ram retreated back, chest puffed, and Brother came gimping to the coyote's side. He dragged his leg, overexaggerating the pain of it, whining to show his coyote-brother how much it hurt.

But now was not time for sympathy. The coyote had to be ready. It was Sister's turn at their prey. And with the ram's attack towards her brother-dog, she was sure to be vicious.

The she-dog snarled, bringing the ram's attention to her. It swiveled in place to follow her movements, and she kept circling around and around it, forcing it to keep turning in a tight circle. She was waiting. At the first mistake...

There. The ram stumbled slightly, two of its legs catching clumsily together. Sister streaked in. Her teeth found its rump and dug in, ripping out flesh and meat and fur. Blood spattered the hard-packed ground like drops of hot red rain. Sister chewed the morsel and spat it out. Bleating in hurt and alarm and fear, the ram lowered its chin to its neck in preparation to swing its horns at its attacker. That saved its life.

As the ram tucked its head, Sister whirled around to get at its throat. But with its head down the soft neck was protected, and she couldn't get a good grip. Her teeth tore into the flesh but did not go deep enough for the kill. Then she had to jump back as the ram tried to knock her in the face with its horns. It missed, and Sister went back to her circling.

The fight was as good as over. With the ram's leg hurt, it would not be fast enough to turn with her. She would make easy work of it, dodging in and out, slowly tearing the animal to shreds.

The coyote had to stop her.

[Kyo]

He saw when Sister decided to attack again. The ram was stumbling in place, easy prey. It was resigned to try to fight, though it knew it would not win.

Sister arched in from the side, and the coyote gave a sudden burst of speed that pained his hurt foot. The pain was necessary. He slammed into his Sister-dog from the side, throwing her off balance. His teeth found the back of her neck, pinching tight but not enough to draw blood. She yelped and tore herself away. The coyote staggered to a halt, between her and the wounded ram.

Sister glared at him, but it was a weak glare, one full of confusion. The coyote lowered his head and bowed his back like a cat might, fur sticking up, ears pinned, tail low. He showed his teeth and Sister backed up, recognizing a fight when she saw one.

He was establishing his dominance. This ram was his. If Sister wanted it, she would have to take it from him.

If she wanted it, she would have to hurt him.

He saw her considering as she stared at him. She had hurt him in the past, had bit him when he did things she did not like. She was not above fighting with her coyote. But she had never hurt him over a food squabble-- there had been no food squabbles before. And she had never hurt him when he was already in poor condition. As much as his injuries would give her the advantage in a fight, they made her hesitate. A pack did not damage one of its own. This pack didn't. At least, not too badly. To get to the ram, she might have to hurt him. Really hurt him.

She wouldn't do it, and it made her even more angry. The she-dog glowered at him, dancing closer as if to test his resolve. The coyote did not move, did not take his eyes from her. His muzzle curled, eyes wide and daring. They stood still and looked at each other some more.

And then finally, grudgingly, Sister looked away. She huffed out a breath, tail swinging angrily, and went to stand by Brother. She would not look at the coyote or the ram, but the coyote knew her tricky mind. If he stopped paying attention to her long enough, she would decide to come at the ram again, wanting her revenge for her leg-hurt Brother. The coyote needed to finish this quickly.

[Kyo]

All he had to do was get a hold of the rope around the ram's neck. If he did that, he was certain this time he would not let go, no matter what.

The coyote used Sister's tactic, slightly modified. He began a slow, limping jog around the ram, making it turn to watch him. It, too, was limping, and so neither of them was better off than the other.

But while Sister had waited for the ram to make a mistake and had rushed in to capitalize, the coyote simply wound the circle tighter and tighter. Each time he went round there was slightly less space between him and the ram. It was likely the ram sensed his slow approach, but the coyote was not blatantly attacking, and so the animal did not try to stop him.

He circled until he was close enough, and then he lurched in, going for the throat.

Or, going for the rope around the throat. His teeth dug into the foul-tasting tough material, holding tight, and the ram kicked and jumped and writhed, but only managed to drag him along with it. With that tight grip, he shifted.

Long, sharp coyote teeth turned blunt and short and human, and the rope nearly wrenched from his mouth. Kyo tasted blood but held on, and his hands --better for griping even than teeth-- wrapped around the rope. He gathered his feet underneath him and stood, spitting the rope out, pulling up hard. The loop tightened around the animal's gullet and it bleated again in surprise and hurt, dangling from its throat in his grasp. It thrashed, wearing on his arms, but he didn't let go and the ram had to give up or choke. It let itself go still, hanging, and Kyo lowered its front feet back to the ground.

Now one hand let go to grasp one of its horns, controlling its head. The other kept on the rope, making sure it was snug around the neck. He expected the ram to continue fighting, but it seemed to have given up. It stood placidly by, eyes glazed, sides puffing, tongue hanging out.

It was tired, thirsty, had had a rough day. It was hurt. Kyo knew how it felt.

[Kyo]

By the time he got to Endrykas, it was nearing night. He was ready to fall over. It was hard to make himself keep walking.

The ram had not fought much on the long walk back, but that was because he had not let it. Every time it tried to resist he yanked the rope tight around its neck, and it had to give in. For the last stretch, he had ended up holding the rope high, keeping the ram in an unbalanced position so it had to comply. That had meant taking some of the animal's weight on him, especially on his arms and shoulders. He wasn't certain, but he thought the creature might weigh more than he did. His arms were burning in the last fading rays of light.

He had stopped to put his pants back on before entering the city, but people stared at him anyway as he hobbled to the Pride, lugging the ram the whole way. His dogs had vanished some time ago, perhaps looking for a ram of their own. It was only him in a crowd of people.

He lumbered on until he found the one he was looking for, the Sunshadow. But if he was expecting a smile, or congratulations, he did not get them. The Sunshadow looked down at him, looked at the ram, and then turned his face away, refusing to take it when Kyo held out the tattered rope.

That turning away hit him like a slap to the face. He knew that somehow he had failed. Despite everything he had gone through, Sunshadow would not accept the ram, the ram was not good enough, and so Ramsay would not be free.

It was too much after a trying day. The coyote-man sunk down to a knee, bending to put a hand over his face, and he could do nothing. He was aware that the Sunshadow was standing over him, could hear him laugh. There was nothing inside him to compete with that snickering sound.

---

"Kyo?" a familiar voice asked, and at first the coyote-man did not believe it. But when he looked up, it was Ramsay.

The feeling of relief was almost heady, making his knees too weak to let him stand. Ramsay helped him up, gesturing someone to come and take the ram and lead it away. He put an arm around Kyo's back, keeping him up and steady. His happy face was not happy. There was anger there. Kyo was tired of anger.

"Where have you been? Look at you!" A pause, and then Ramsay asked, tone dark as the blackening sky, "Who did this to you? Who did this?" Thunder and Lightning were there beside him. When Ramsay next spoke, the two dogs bared their teeth, and some of the watchers abruptly went back to their end-of-workday tasks. Sunshadow was nowhere to be seen. "Who did this, I call my dogs on them. Let them feel the hurt the teeth."

It was almost like Sister, the sound of those words, the glint in Ramsay's gaze. It was something the coyote-man did not like for his friend. Ramsay was supposed to smile. Supposed to be happy.

He had not been in a happy mood, though, for the last few days, and this was only making him worse.

"Ramsay... Ramsay, stop. I'm home. It is... good... yes?" Kyo was just glad his friend was okay.

There was a long pause. Then a grunt. "Good."

Kyo sighed, sagging in the taller's man strong grip. "You are... not hurt? I come to look for you, only you are not here. Others... speak to me, speak you are in trouble with big boss, are captured? Speak I need to find animals, like ram, to free you. But I see... I see you are free?" Happy, he signed, relief, friend.

Happy, Ramsay echoed back, "I'm happy you are here," but then he showed anger again. "You come to work, don't see me? Well I come, don't see you. Ask, but nobody seen. They lie to you, to me." He signed something Kyo didn't know, and explained gruffly, "Worry-gra. I worry about you. And here you are. Someone hurt you."

Kyo shook his aching head. "Ram hurt me." He put a hand up, miming this time to show horns.

"And someone, a person," Ramsay insisted, and Kyo saw in his face that he would not accept the word no.

"A person," Kyo agreed, but then did not know whether to blame the wild-woman or Sunshadow. He decided he would not want to see the wild-woman, broken in her head, be in trouble. He already felt bad, felt guilty for having fought with her. "Sunshadow," he finally conceded. "Sunshadow speak to me. I need to find animals for him. Find ram, find others, with only rope. To help you. But I'm here, and you are here, and we are safe{all good}." No anger.

"Sunshadow," Ramsay repeated, and his face had that dark look again.

[Tribal]

G R A D E S

Kyo

Experience

• Tracking: 1
• Stealth: 1
• Planning: 1
• Hunting: 1
• Observation: 3
• Running: 1
• Logic: 2
• Intimidation: 1
• Tactics: 1
• Bodybuilding: 1
• Endurance: 2
• Wrestling: 1
• Socialisation: 1

Lore

• Signs of a tired herd animal
• Sister: The smart one
• Planning: Working together as a pack
• Sunshadow: The trickster

Penalties

Brother needs urgent medical care (for his leg) or he won't recover.

Notes

Intense story! Looking forward to the follow up, assuming there is one? Enjoy the rewards!