The Nihtgenge's Wood

[Lheaht]

[glow=maroon,2,900]

The Nihtgenge's Wood


Isolated from the main clearing for training, there lies a wood, neither small, nor too large, it houses both clearings, streams, dense undergrowth and areas where only the thin and bare trunks of the tall and wiry trees would offer a varg cover from another's far-seeing eyes. here in this dark wood the canopy varies from dense, and not letting a single shaft of light in and covering the ground beneath in dense shadow; to thin and sparse where light spills in and the thick bracken and thickets thrive, abudunt with thorns and spiky leaves, for sometimes there is a price to pay for cover.
here in this varying wood is where the silent paws of the Nihtgenges of the Balkar tread, where the new recruits are trained and where the older, experienced Nihtgenges practice their skills at staying unseen, as if this were another vargs territory they were trespassing into. vargs from both packs, Eadren and Wenthran, come here to train, the young learn from the old - if they can find them.



a grey wolf materialized as if from nowhere, his pelt, of the darkest grey mingling to almost black on his back, had disappeared into the shadows until he had moved, his eyes, of the darkest colour, and the right one had a tinted colour a little like blood, for the cappillaries had a tendancy to burst when his blood pressure rose. right now it seemed like that would be an impossible feat, for the mann had an expressionless face, no hint of emotion was written upon his features.
he stepped out further and looked about, his eyes checking every single bush and trees carefully. the Nihtgenges were out there. Lheaht was the head of that skill, and now was the time of their daily training.
he let out a gruff bark in his rarely used voice, for he did not only travel silently, he rarely spoke in conversation, but now he needed his vocal chords to summon the Nihtgenges out of their hiding.

[/glow]

[i a h]

Like some spectral ghoul, Fantome rode on the tendrils of ivory miasma. His silvery grey hide merged with the ethereal mist as she strode, willowy stilts flexing forward and devouring the ground with ease. He was undoubtedly one of the tallest vargs of the Night Hunters, standing almost as lofty as the First. Also, this stallion was one of the thinnest dancer-like ones of his pack. This did not work to his advantage the majority of the time, however, since the Balkar was a like a contact sport and he on the track team.

For some time, he situated himself around the other Nihtgenges as they awaited the arrival of their captain. Fantome recalled his first encounter with Lheaht with a grimace, knowing one of the scars that arced his maw was thanks to the male. They had been battle training with a she-varg named Fiory as they were cubs. First they had only been racing, but one thing led to another and the competition soared to inevitable heights. Both Fantome and Lheaht had been nothing older than piping whelps at the time, but Lheaht had packed quite a blow.

When the summoning bay feathered the atmosphere, Fantome swiveled his collar to face the vessel of the call. Ah, Captain, the pale wolf curled his feathery plume around his flanks. There was restlessness hanging above them and he knew that something amusing was in store.

[Lheaht]

[glow=maroon,2,600]Lheaht turned his steel grey head to the phantom creature that stalked silently towards him. he tilted his head in an obscure nod in greeting. a smirk evading his face but not his thoughts as he too remembered his first encounter with this varg. they had both been nought but young pups at the time, each striving to better the other.

Lheahts keen dark eyes scanned the rest of the scenery, but no other wise ear was in sight, no sensitive nose, or smooth pelt. none of the other Nihtgenges had arrived, and Lheaht stood there in silence - as always - until he realised, there was no point in waiting around for them no longer. muttering a curse under his breath he turned and plunged deep into the woods, with a flick of his dark tail indicating that Fantome should follow. there was one task to hone their skills that Lheaht had in mind for a highly skilled duo. and the tool necessary for it, was lying in a clearing in the centre of the forest.

silent paws treaded lightly on the soft earth beneath them as Lheaht threaded his way through the delicate trunks of the trees. his mind mapping the way to go - this was one part of the territory a Nihtgenge learnt very well.

the clearing loomed closer, accompanied by the sound of clacking beaks and squabbling squawks. raising his silent vocals to a growl Lheaht plunged into the clearing, snapping at the grotesque scavengers. his bites meant to scare but not harm one of Wolfbanes creatures. the carcass was his. he turned his head to Fantome and nodded. they would meet back just outside the woods where they had started, this hare was marking in a peculiar manner. Lheaht had bitten it many times. creating elaborate patterns of teethmarks. ones that could not be replicated easily. nor memorised in a mere second. also, he had noted this particular hare's scent. this was one of the harder tasks for Nihtgenges. Fantome would have to find Lheaht, and take the hare.

giving the varg one last swish of his tail Lheaht's head snaked downwards and scopped up the limp corpse in his silent maw and trotted off, disappearing into the shadows of the wood. Fantome would have to wait for a while to give Lheaht enough distance to make this more challenging. more worthy of Fantome's skills.[/glow]