beati pacifici
The pack ran in silence through the darkened jungle, leaping fallen logs and darting around trees. Lupa was unfettered, free to hunt, to run, to kill. Her instincts had been on edge for days now, and tonight she had gotten out. There was a threat in their territory, invading, trying to escape the hunters. They were not stealthy enough to avoid the pack of apex predators. Lupa’s muzzle lifted in a snarl, scenting the air. Fear and sweat and munitions oil, layered over with the unique scent of the enemy of her pack, the pack of alphas. She would destroy them, her betas at her side. Lupa loped through the darkness, disjointed limbs surprisingly agile, gait long, keeping pace with the four other predators, leading them through the jungle. Her betas were by her side, Blue to her right, ceeding her position, her due to be the Alpha’s right hand, acknowledging Lupa as alpha, more dominant female, protector. Lupa appreciated the show of support, knew that grey-whitebluestripe-BetaBlue was entitled to fight her, to resist, and glad that the other female had instead chosen to accept her. Together they would cleanse their territory of the invaders.
The five predators ran on, eating up the miles between them and their prey. They would show the enrochers onto their territory who they were dealing with, whose territory they had violated. It would be their last mistake.
It was bluegreen-nostripe-Delta who reached the invaders first. The pack scouted the scenario, lapping the invaders camp. Lupa’s human mind railed, trying to explain concepts beyond the scope of her animal instincts. Weapons, she understood finally, the prey-humans posed a real threat. The pack hung back, wary. They had learned to trust Lupa’s warnings. Green-blackstripes-Charlie stumbled, and one of the enemies jerked their head up, swivelling to face the sound. Lupa loomed out of the darkness, getting between the threat and her beta, pushing the young female back, rising up out of her crouch, wrongly jointed back unable to fully straighten. Blood rushed from the man’s face, Lupa smiling with fanged jaws as the scent of fear exploded so brightly across the vacant space between them. Her nostrils flared. She was gone by the time the man started fumbling with his gun, releasing a volley of bullets into the emptiness where Charlie and Lupa had just been. The man’s pack was on him immediately, false-lights splitting the darkness, shouts and yells filling the night. The pack hunkered, and went unseen.
“What the hell–” someone demanded, smelling like anger and authority, turning on his ally. The man who had seen them ignored him, clutching his gun in white-knuckled grip.
“M-monster” the man shuddered, whole body wracked with involuntary shudders, the stench of fear, of prey, emanating from him in waves. “There’s something in the jungle, we aren’t alone out here”.
“Get ahold of yourself!” The other man bellowed, lashing out, striking the quivering sentry. Lupa thought that would be the end of it.
But the story spread throughout the enemy pack, sentries wary and reeking of fear. Lupa could scent the form of their nightmares, BetaBlue far too amused when she suggested they stalk their prey, make them turn on each other. Lupa felt the pack’s excitement at the suggestion, and could not deny them their psychological warfare. BetaBlue was smart, she would not have survived as second to a human alpha if she wasn’t; she knew the prey was cornered, that the invaders could not escape now, and she knew she and her pack would enjoy making them regret ever setting their sights on claimed territory. BetaBlue smiled, a feral grin a little too close to human to look at home on an animal’s face, and Lupa echoed the movement. They would make the invaders regret ever being born.
The wolf rumbled, mangled, malformed muzzle half open in a snarl, jaws overcrowded, pointed teeth and fangs competing for space. Her fur bristled, hackles half raised, a warning, as the metal-machine descended silently through the layers of dense forest canopy. Empty-metal-packassist landed in the brush in front of the Alpha Female, her lupine form shining eerily back at her off the metal-machine’s reflective skin. Amber eyes glinted in the darkness, the echoing snot-snarls of her pack bloomed around her, flanking her. Lupa studied the empty-metal-packassist, and promptly lost interest. The metal-machine would not harm her or her pack, and had helped in their last hunt, she trusted it would not get in the way, and that her and the pack could kill it if it erred. Silently, the group faded back into the jungle.
They were moving with a purpose, Lupa noted, the invaders determinately tracking backwards towards the edge of their territory. Did they think the sea would save them? Lupa decided then that they would not reach it. She opened her maw, grunting out her orders, a cough-bark vocalisation that had the pack spreading out, taking positions, readying themselves for the hunt, to attack, and kill, and defend what was theirs– to avenge. Overhead the empty-metal-packassist rose higher, a shining streak in the star filled sky, the only warning their prey had of the end that was coming, that would rise out of the darkness on swift and sure talons. Their quarry ignored it, and the pack moved closer.
Blood coated the wolf-shifter, matted her fur, the scent of rusted out copper sealing itself inside her lungs, marking her. The pack had made short work of the invaders, had torn them apart with brutal efficiency, rending flesh and separating limbs. Empty-metal-packassist had destroyed the invader’s vehicles with systematic viciousness that Lupa admired, removing all trace of the threat to their land. It had been a good hunt, and Lupa felt the ache of exertion in muscles stretched tight, holding tight to their unnatural, twisted, form for too long. She wanted this to be over, to return to her mate, to rest at the feet of her alpha, the territory secure; but that desire was a long way off, for the pack had found the reason their quarry had been so rigid in heading towards the coast– there were more of them, a second group nesting out to see, ready to come in to help the pack’s prey escape. That would not do, they would not be allowed to return, to try take claimed territory again, they had been defeated, and she would not allow them to escape their fate.
The pack watched, and waited. Empty-metal-packassist flashed a staccato-light out over the sea, and the water-vehicles began moving in. Lupa grinned, malformed jaws sliding open, fangs glinting in the darkness.
It was short work. Prey emerged from the vessels, the pack took them down. Claws and talons tore through armoured hide, jaws crushed bone, crushed skulls, cracked joints. Blood and marrow mingled in the sand, churned beneath booted feet and bare claws. Lupa leapt upon the prow of one of the vessels, brilliant beams of light now beginning to shatter the night, guns being opened up along the shoreline. Overhead empty-metal-packassist arced between the vessels, doing– something helpful that she did not quite understand. A man lunged at her, advancing with knife drawn. Lupa smiled, feral glee alighting within her as she fought the man– pausing her slaughter to face her opponent. Nearby BetaBlue held her flank, a blade glancing off hardened scales, her own prey-threat-enemy losing the offending limb. Lupa dodged, ducking and weaving, lashing out with already bloodied claws, playing with her opponent. A slice along his arm, claws tearing deep into fleshy thighs, painful, debilitating wounds that did not kill. BetaBlue yipped by her side, rest of the deck empty of live prey, corpses scattered. The message was clear– stop playing. Lupa obliged the beta, launching herself forward, through the man’s guard, jaws finding a home beneath his armoured helmet, snapping his spinal column and severing the jugular pulsing within her grip with half a second’s thought. Together Lupa and BetaBlue cleared the vessel, their sisters doing the same to the other water-vehicle. When they emerged they congregated on the beach, kneading sand between their claws as they studied each other, rubbing against each other, inspecting for injuries– there were none that were serious– watching as empty-metal-packassist shoved the water-vehicles back out onto the water, firing upon them, vessels exploding into plumes of flame that touched the sky. Green-blackstripes-Charlie yelped, skittering back from the sudden fire. The pack evaporated back into the jungle, settling down deep in the cover of darkness to nest for the night, pack curled together, jumbled, no one caring where one female ended and her sister began.
Grey-whitebluestripe-BetaBlue snarled, Lupa echoing with a growl of her own. The whole western edge of their territory reeked of the invaders, foul stench that did not belong clinging to the jungle. They were all on edge, patrolling though they had yet to see any more sign of their prey. Beta-Blue’s thoughts strayed to Alpha, as they often did. He did not hunt with them, yet BetaBlue knew all was well. She was glad for AlphaFemale, for her stabilizing effect on the pack– they were more balanced since she had claimed her position, bridging the gap between the pack and their human head. Alpha was happier since the arrival of his mate too, and the pack had been released to run free. BetaBlue had no concept of gratitude, but she understood loyalty, and knew that she would follow the other female to whatever end, she was good for the pack.
Lupa was smug, satisfied with the actions of her pack. The invaders had all been routed and killed, their foothold in the pack’s territory destroyed. This pack was strong, had a solid, simple hierarchy. Lupa was glad she’d found it, had found the place she had matured into. Her instincts had driven her from her father’s pack, urging her to claim territory of her own, yet her new pack was much more suited to her human nature than her lupine needs. The constant fluctuations chafed, Alpha personalities clashing; though everything was calm, settled, Lupa knew it was not the place for her, knew she would not get the position her instincts yearned for, yet here she had found it all– wide-ranging territory, a competent pack, acceptance into an existing hierarchy, a mate.
The pack returned to their den with little fanfare, Delta preening, strutting up to the Alpha as Blue broke off, scouting the perimeter of the den. Delta backed away as Lupa approached, the Alpha Female nuzzling against her mate, rubbing her side along his. His fingers tangled in her fur and she leaned into him, relaxing. All was well, the territory was safe, the Alpha was safe, the pack was content. It was time for rest, they deserved it.