Rowdy

 She couldn’t breathe.

 Encased in a dune of snow, her body began to dig before full consciousness.

 Bursting forth from the small mound, Calamity emerged into the world at the heart of Elkshire’s herd. The cows and calves squealed with surprise, this wolf carrying no familiar protective scent of the pack wolves they were used to.

 She yowled, a half-frightened, exhilarated hoot that only spurred the ungulates to further panic.

 A stampede.

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---

He sought the only place he knew that brought a cleansing serenity to his overly-busied mind. Thoughts of Edith were constantly flowing in and out. Questions of her last moments, of what or who took her. There was no corpse to weep upon, nor closure to help him move past the void his sister would leave in his life. 

The herd, was where he found a tranquillity to abolish the negativity. The picturesque scene before him, of pure white everywhere, and the Elk all with noses to the ground or pawing at fresh patches of snow to gain access to their wintry forage. It was all nature's best potion for a good soul-cleanse. That was... until the chaos and disruption brought Warwick back to his presence. 

He did not see the first instance, of the peculiarity of a snow-birthed wolf. But he heard the commotion. Heard the shocked bellows and shrieks from the unexpected. His citrine eyes glistened with concern, as they darted to and fro, attempting to narrow in on where it was all originating from. 

And then he spotted the wolf amongst them. An injection of anger fired through his veins and propelled him forth, running toward the now scarpering mass. On the outskirts of it all, he heard the yowl and sought the wolf amidst it all. He thought they deserved the punishment, for hunting the sacred beings. Deserved a hoof or two to strike into them, to batter and bruise them, to assure the rogue never set upon the herd again.

As Warwick closed in on the herd, he had intently been watching their movement. He held but the highest respect for them, and to see them flee westwards, meant his path would be clear of any peril to himself. Furious, his own vocals could be heard amongst the thunderous hooves, with a series of guttural snarls alarming the unwelcome wolf he was on to them (without a doubt, an amplified frustration and reaction to what he would customarily address outsiders with. All stemming from his recent loss).

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 It was a cacophony of crashing snow and charging deer. Hooves pounded the frozen earth, shattering banks and sending flakes fluttering back into the air. The morning light caught the crystals, and Calamity was surrounded by motes of melting light.

 She ran with the elk, snapping at their legs to make them go faster.

 But someone else was there - and angry. The young she-wolf turned when guttural snarling tore through the thunderous rumble of the stampede. It was the sound of wrath, not panic.

 She stopped, letting the deer rush forward, grunting when the hoof of a calf glanced off her shoulder, a bone deep bruise. “Why’d you spoil the fun?”

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---

It materialised that their hunt was not over, with the wolf taking chase. The terrified flighty prey were completely triggered and toppled into one another as they bound for their freedom. All the duke could see was the shape of a wolf between the towering legs of Elkshires' sacred beings, nothing of hues nor sex. 

He grew closer, on sturdy, well-muscled legs, pounding through the snow relentlessly. And was about to use the blessed opportunity - provided by He, no doubt - of the intruder being struck by one of the deer. Whether it had been intentional or accidental by the calf though, Warwick smiled internally, satisfied they got at least some retribution for their poor choice. But before he acted upon the chance to further wound the trespasser, a voice lavished in heavenly notes caught him unawares and he grunted with vexation, reining in all intentions to pound his frustrations into this... she-wolf.

'Not only are you trespassing but you are insulting my family by indulging in your selfish needs upon our hallowed beings', a possessive growl dared slip through his larynx, solidifying his displeasure. His poise lacking any grace or princely mannerisms, only a challenged male stood before her and one that confronted her with an arch over his shoulders and with hindquarters set to pounce -- the essence of his father.

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 Her shoulder hurt, throbbing dull in the morning cold.

 The stranger was taller than she was - most were - but he didn’t seem much older. Her nose twitched, noting the flavor of family, of pack.

 He squared up, chest puffed like a strutting turkey.

 Calamity laughed at him, forgetting the elk as they charged towards the tree line, leaving the pair in the empty meadow, a pockmarked canvas of white.

 She barked as her tail curled up. “You know, I can’t see a stick up your ass, but I guess that’s cuz it’s wedged way up in there.”

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---

His ears took to their own mind and flattened accordingly to her words. What lack of taste this young woman had with her vocabulary. Grimacing at the abhorrent manners and disregard for his forewarning, he lifted his chin. 'It is my role to guard our precious Elk and Deer upon our land. You are mistaken if I'm to be so courteous to someone that blatantly has no consideration for this', he remarked, forcing his clenched teeth to loosen just that fraction so that his speech was crystal clear. 'Leave. You are not welcome here', and he cast an eye at the taint that blotted more than a third of her coat. 

It was taking every fragment of his being to remain in control, unaware the putrid blood of his father was running through his veins and genes were dictating him to refuse the woman any words and be so blunt with his actions instead. 

But he daren't. And hoped he never would. His mother and Remus had taught him better than that.

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 Leave.

 She sat.

 The stranger was a stringed instrument wound too tight, one more squeeze and turn of the tuning peg and he was likely to snap.

 Calamity wanted to see.

 “Soooo you’re an elk herder? That’s a weird job for a wolf.” Or anyone, for that matter.

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---

Another elastic band tethered to his patience sprung loose as she plonked herself down. His nose flared at her shortage of respect. And his mind ran through his pack names to summon those to intimidate her further without the need for violence. 

But her question silenced his reflex for beckoning others and his adolescent mind took over with its boyish inquisitiveness. Why was she not leaving?

An eyebrow rose at her accusation. It was no surprise that others deemed his faith and duty an oddity, so he didn't take her own opinions to heart either.

He contemplated not dignifying the woman with an answer due to her blatant rudeness, but nevertheless, he obliged, as gentlemanly as he could be.

'Yes, I am', he grunted. A half-truth provided, he would sometimes prefer this role to the responsibility of being a prince and heir to the throne. Reserved in his answer, he did not push for further conversation.

Now leave, did the gleam in his golden glare snarl at her.
 

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 He still looked like he wanted to pummel her into the snow.

 She bounced up to her feet, compact body jumping like a coiled spring. “Well! Sorry for making a mess of your meadow, I woke up in the middle of ‘em.” She began trotting after the herd, turning to look at him over her bruised shoulder.

 “I can help ya herd ‘em back here, if ya want!”

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---

The boy nearly had whiplash.

The sudden change in her demeanour had him dumbfounded. From her outraging rudeness to a sudden friendly disposition, he couldn't fathom her turn around to rectify the situation and turmoil she had caused. 

His ears sprung forth, like a kitten with a laser dot whipping past them. He was uncertain, was this a trick and she was to play him as a fool?

So many thoughts scrambled his thought pattern, but he didn't want another battle with the herd and they had long moved onto new ground, closer to the more protected Elks Crown. He knew by her following, would not end well should someone else intervene. Particularly if a sibling was to catch her.

'No, HALT!', he called, throwing himself into a long gallop to catch her in the few strides she had trotted off, 'They will be fine', he knew they were safe and would check up on any wounded youngsters later caught within the calamity. 'They need their rest after the disaster you caused. And why were you asleep in the middle of a snow-bedded field?'. She may have thought he was weird, but no one in their correct mind would doze in the midst of cold and snow. 

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 He was almost feline in the graceful way he leapt over the snow to block her path forward. She looked up at him, confusion and annoyance flaring across her face.

 “We got horse flies back home. Big. Noisy. Hovering. Your impression of them is spot on.”

 Shaking herself, her thick coat fluffed in the cold. “When I went to sleep I wasn’t in the middle of ‘em. I wasn’t even here. Dunno where I am - didn’t ignore your markers on purpose.”

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---

Warwick frowned, just as he thought she was changing her mind with her attitude toward him and some kind of afresh respect, out came the bile of insolence.

He scoffed at the insult. 

And the proverbial penny dropped thereafter. She wasn't the first he'd encountered that had awoken so haphazardly here. And he deemed it the will of his deity, as though they were lost souls and He placed them strategically for Warwick to find them. To now set them within the herd was another level. He rolled his eyes internally and sighed externally, knowingly and suddenly calmer.

'Many have arrived here just as you have. Although behaving as a disarrayed lunatic was not their first calling', a glance of judgement for her poor behaviour applied to the latter of his phrase. 'If you remember where you were, then you remember your name?'.

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 She tilted her nose up, short but still more than willing to match his gaze. “Calamity.” She answered with a sniff before prancing forward, eyes gazing the horizon for any sign of the deer. She didn’t ask for his name in return.

 “And right, cuz being a wolf elk herder is totally sane. You know those are giant meat sacks right? Good for e a t i n g.” She spoke slow as if he was unfamiliar with the subject.

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---

Warwick barely had time to register her name before she picked at that last band of his patience with her. 

Thats it.

The duke grumbled within his larynx, a vibration reverberating through his whole being and inevitably filtering through his clenched, angered teeth, he had enough. Knowing the herd was now safe away from her antics, he turned to abandon her for winter's clutch to apprehend her and do what they will with her.

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bye felicia

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