Tenacious Boscage

Yawn. The whole forest—if he could call it that, it was more of a jungle—was one big yawn-worthy fuckfest. No, he changed his mind. It wasn't even worth his valued efforts to produce a yawn for this place, that's how much it lulled him. Sure, it glowed and sparkled with vibrant walls and blankets of moss, vines, ferns as they dominated every surface, almost like it was their job. With all Sasha knew, it probably was. It was pretty surreal at first, but it was quickly becoming a pain in the ass. Lifting his gaze, he huffed an exaggerated sigh. Fallen trees, slopes, and faces disguised in a sea of earthy-smelling fuzz, served as some sort of mythical obstacle course. It was all he had seen for the past few hours. He had already been in one hell of a pissed-off mood to begin with, which was already taking toll on his health, both physical and mental. Those were the two things he happened to neglect the most when in one of his bitchy moods.

Yet, he couldn't blame it solely on himself, even if it was his fault. Nope, it wasn't his fault the forest had a massive slope, wall of flora, or fallen tree at every turn. This place seemed to be tempting him into a frustration-induced mental breakdown. Catching prey was a whole other story, he had only ever once came across such an insanely-dense forest in his life. He wasn't built for fast navigation in this type of area, as he was smaller and less muscled than most. He would never admit it, but his size did take some toll on every-day life. This place was exhausting, and he swore to whatever conniving, magical, pain-in-the-ass being above, that he had seen that tree over there twice already. There was nothing worth doing here to pass the time—well nothing except just walk around aimlessly until he happened to find something to really occupy himself with. Hunting? That wasn't an option, he'd tried already and had zero luck. Training, perhaps, but he was already worn out enough. Climbing and jumping can turn out to be a pretty difficult feat after some time. Sitting still and doing nothing? Fuck, the last time he tried doing that, it ended up terrible. And ashamed of himself, for a change. He always did after some weird, sappy emotional breakdown. The lesson he learned—for the millionth time—was to never ever leave himself alone with his thoughts.

Fuck, there I go again. Thinking. For once in forever I'm telling myself not to think. Wow. he thought, a flutter of anger filling the pit of his stomach and rising up his back. It always started like that, first the pissed off mood, then the dwelling, and then his favorite part, the pathetic swell of emotions and episode where he ate himself up and thought about every stupid thing he had done in his life. The sickest part is, he enjoyed it to some extent, but he also hated it. It was draining. It made him feel weak and miserably inadequate. Which, in those episodes, that's what he dubbed himself as. Shut the fuck up, he groaned at himself mentally, taking in a deep breath lazily so that a huff escaped him. He pressed his paws firmly against the damp terrain, obsidian claws digging into the dirt. He lifted one of his skinny yet powerful appendages and moved forward in a slow, hesitant half-pace. His hind legs slip upward until he could place it directly in the paw print that he had left behind. He slunk forward again, and his large shoulder blades rocked smoothly beneath the chocolate fur that covered it. The canine's pelt glinted in the soft light of day; faint soft ebony hues glimmering amber here and there on his frame.

Sasha was small and compact for his age and sex, though he had grown a bit over the past months. His dark fur, however, was just as it always had been, stubbornly untidy no matter what he did with it. His muzzle was short and narrow while on his head rested almost over-sized triangular ears. Of all weird, different things about Sasha, the meaning behind his appearance was the most extraordinary. Sasha was a runt. And, yes, was it an insecurity. That he'd never voice, however, instead, he'd use his anger to fuel him to do the things any normal wolf would. Though, he had to admit he was lucky even to be reaching his second year. He lifted his muzzle upward, eyes scanning the sky for a sign of distress or upsetting in the woods, perhaps a band of fleeing crows in opposite direction of any disturbances. Gazing absently over the undergrowth as he slunk lazily, it took him a few seconds before Sasha realized what scent he was breathing in. It's physical presence was the last thing he needed to confirm it's identity, but it's scent was there to prove what it was. Another canine.

"Oh, no," he breathed. "What the hot mess of fresh fuck am I gonna get myself into?" Icy heat crawled up his shoulders and into his face, hugging his temples in an almost cold, yet burning grasp. He felt a sudden jolt as his heart thudded into hyperactivity, a coppery taste filling his mouth. He sucked in a short, gasping breath, his lungs burning with each breath of air that he struggled to gulp down. Was he in pack territory? If so, then they made a shitty job of marking their god-damned land, which would give him good argument if he were confronted. A flutter of anger lit up inside him at the thought, but he lost interest in feeding it as he contemplated the other options. It was either that, a loner, or some dog who trailed a bit too far from their home. He prayed for the median.

Blinking to focus his view, the male turned his cranium, gazing at his surroundings as if to check for his new acquaintance. With a small snarl, his legs felt slower, heavier. Weaker. There was no way he was going to get away if there happened to be a spar. "Fuck," he groaned under his breath, drawing out the syllables a little to long, but all in the simple intention express his displeasure. What exactly are you gonna do to get yourself outta this one, asshole? he quietly worded to himself in his mind. Mistakenly, a low growl broke out of his throat, thick and catching in his saliva. Shit.

Paw steps sounded. Sasha's ears flickered sensitively at the sound, the heat of anxiety creeping upon him once again. His paws shuffled across the earth, the thick, flora-infested carpet rustling slightly as delicate pads brushed and pressed against the cool, leafy masses. The soil beneath the greenery was sodden with recent rainfall, that still clung to leaves in droplets, making the floor alive with dazzling hues and sparks of light and natural forest colors. The air that was already humid with moisture seemed even thicker as Sasha counted his breaths. He felt restless, yet sluggish in his subtle steps, his frame swaying as he looked around to spot his new company. He was already labored from his exploration. His sides rose and fell in short, panting breaths as he subconsciously fought the effect of over-exertion and nervousness.

Sasha turned his head to the right, observing and scrutinizing his surroundings. He watched as a bird jumped into the air in a crazed frenzy, beating it's wings against the air as it swung away into the darkness of the canopy. An alarmed yet quiet call rang from above, and he watched as another two took off. Releasing a quiet sigh, he swung his cranium back around, and realized that he really wasn't looking where he was going. So much to that he only noticed his surroundings when the forest opened up before him to reveal a sight that chilled his veins. Another wolf. "Um," she began. The sound was spoken softly, feminine tone that was short and clipped. It was obviously a voicing of question, surprise, as to why exactly he was here. It was probably wise to reply now, but then her maw parted again. White incisors glinted in the dim light, the sharp point sending chills down his spine . "Hi?" Her voice sounded again, this time more open-ended, no signs of hostility, all but awkwardness. Maybe even a bit nervous.

Now that the quiet took over again, two questions hung in the air, one as to why she had no venom, and what her intentions where, the second as to names. If she was in a pack, why the hell was she traveling alone? Especially if she had the predisposition to shy away from any newcomers. Sasha needed to speak. Now. He truly had to. So why couldn't he just start ranting? Did she even deserve his bitching? She didn't personally offend him, maybe baffle him a bit. Ugh, I'm too tired. I'll save it for later, he finally decided. His jaws parted, but no sound was made, instead only silence ran across his tongue. He closed his mouth quickly to stop himself from standing gaping before he tried again. Nothing. Okay, you're usually great with yapping at people. Come on, he told himself mentally, both irritated by his lack of words and a bit embarrassed by it. Clearing his throat, he wondered if he could just apologize and walk away. No, he had some questions to be answered. Taking a deep breath and forcing his brow together in a light frown, he forced a small surge of will power. "'Hi' yourself," was his rather scrappy rebuttal, which he almost stuttered, which would subsequently made it almost impossible to get to the next few. Thankfully, he made it, however, and gave a mental 'thank fuck' in praise to his success. "You alright?" he queried, hoping she'd catch the quick look he swept over her frame, which was locked up in what Sasha assumed to be nervousness. Over what? A massive, dangerous, and strong brute like me? Please, he mentally voiced, sarcasm sending bitter amusement to his chest. He was far from massive. In fact, if his angle were right, he swore he was even smaller than the female before him, if not just a little bit. Regardless, it was a bit flattering; not often did he have this effect on people. How cute.

Sasha took his eyes off the ground and looked up at her, watching as she nodded her cranium. "Yes, I'm alright just a little scared, and possibly," she seemed to pause for a milisecond before letting the next words roll off her tongue, "maybe, shy." He knew he had done wrong long before he had even entered the forest, circled around the edges for quite some time, even trying to lose his quarry, but in the end he made his decision. At that point, he had been expecting something different. He didn't know what exactly. Perhaps nothing, a few little helpless, stupid animals to prey on. He had grown suspicious as he had gotten deeper, but the further and further he got away, the more certain his paranoia was more than just a feeling. It took those few changes in the wind to bring the scent right past him, even if only for the briefest moments. He hadn't caught the girl's scent until it was far beyond too late. All he had to go on was that he simply didn't know where he was and that the borders were terribly kept. It wasn't the first time in his life he had encountered another wanderer. A simple sigh relaxed the tensed cords through out his body in response to her spiel, and he lifted his wandering gaze as she shifted her position.

Sasha pulled his sight into focus and looked at her, his heart fluttering in his chest when his eyes met with her own. Heat burned his face and he dropped his gaze once again, fixating it to the side when a leaf's subtle twitch caught his attention. The female's soft voice spoke once again, "Sorry to bother, but what is your name?" Sasha listened as the unfamiliar tones of her voice rose and fell, curling around a note that meant one thing; inquiry. He understood why she was wary to upset, wanting to presume a somewhat passive role and have little quarrel as possible. It was probably too early to judge, but she was probably the least annoying wolf he'd ever meet in a long time. Or maybe he was just too tired to really find anything worth bitching about. "Why would I be bothered about that?" he countered, shaking his head and letting a curt laugh air out the first few syllables that escaped him. "My name is Sasha," he then added. The bad thing about not having anything to bitch about was that if he wasn't bitching, he really had nothing to say. Small talk was a huge weakness when it came to him. But then again, it was nice to not be exceedingly annoyed by someone, for a change.