Work Text:
Wicked Claw watched from the shadows as her future mate spoke to others of his kind. She could smell that some of the newcomers were also female — there were very few females of his kind here, and Watcher rarely spent enough time with them to pick up their scent, but he was lingering with these newcomers. Wicked Claw settled back on her haunches and she carefully sized up the competition. It galled her to think of such weak, claw-less creatures as competition, but they were his own kind, which gave them an advantage.
One smelled young; a hatchling was no threat to her claim. But the other… she could be competition. Wicked Claw had already killed her sisters who would not submit to her lead, and she would easily do the same to Watcher's new companion.
In the meantime, Wicked Claw watched them interact. She had engaged in her own courting rituals, proving her ability to cull the weak and maintain a strong herd, showing her intelligence with the puzzles he made for her, demonstrating her own strength when the sharp, hard bushes or the fire sticks tried to bite at her, and ensuring that he knew that, like him, she watched.
She had also accepted his courting gifts in turn, taking great delight in the food that he provided — even though she could hunt for her own — and devoting herself to each new puzzle that he made for her. She had even accepted the weak from his own herd and culled them for him. His herd was so large that he must surely appreciate the help.
And yet, he always remained on the other side of the sharp, hard bushes.
Thus, Wicked Claw paid close attention to the female of his kind. Clearly she had missed some aspect of his courting rituals, and if this weak female could demonstrate them properly before Wicked Claw eliminated her, then perhaps she could finally finish her pursuit of the Watcher.
ᛃᛃᛃ
Shadow Stalker raced up to Wicked Claw, eager to share the news; the sharp, hard bushes had lost their bite. When she checked for herself, Wicked Claw no longer felt it humming through her bones in warning when she got close. Had she finally proven herself to Watcher? Had he turned off the sharp, hard bushes?
She sent Wind Foot out to scout, in case this was a trap, while Wicked Claw carefully considered the options. Shadow Stalker paced the edges of their territory, checking all of the sharp, hard bushes, but none of them bit her. None of the weak ones with their fire sticks or sleeping wasps were waiting to attack her. Wicked Claw was cautiously examining the most recent smells outside their territory when Wind Foot returned.
The Watcher's scent was several hours old, but Wicked Claw could easily follow it. Wind Foot reported that she'd encountered many sharp, hard bushes, but none of them bit her. She had also found a territory belonging to one of their large cousins, the one named Lonely One, who they had heard calling in the distance. Wind Foot was smart enough to avoid encroaching on Lonely One's territory yet, but she confirmed that the weak ones had been in the area, including the females.
With this confirmation, Wicked Claw decided to explore, to map out the other territories, and see if there was somewhere else that the Watcher frequented. Then, once she had this new puzzle figured out, she would make her move.
ᛃᛃᛃ
Wind Foot kept an eye out for the Watcher at one side of the stone nest while Wicked Claw guarded the other. They'd culled several of the weak ones last night, and even now Shadow Stalker was following the weak one who smelled like fire. It was a smell that always made Wicked Claw think of danger, even though he didn't hurt them like the sharp, hard bushes or fire sticks did. Still, who knows what he could do, so Wicked Claw had given Shadow Stalker permission to take out the threat.
The Watcher emerged, again accompanied by the older female, and Wicked Claw did her best not to growl in annoyance, lest she give away her position. The Watcher figured out that Wind Foot was there, and the female ran, right towards where Shadow Stalker was waiting. Wicked Claw tapped her toes in delight, but didn't move. She was determined to win the Watcher's newest courting game. Shadow Stalker would take care of the female for her.
Wind Foot shifted when Wicked Claw gave her a quiet command, and the Watcher's gaze immediately snapped in her direction. She led him around, skirting the edge of their old territory, but always out of range of his wasp stick. Finally, he followed her lead past where Wicked Claw was waiting, and the Watcher stopped right in front of her hiding space. Wicked Claw pounced, finally claiming him with her mating bite.
ᛃᛃᛃ
Wicked Claw looked out over their new territory with a discerning eye. It was much better here; far from the Lonely One's territory — though from the sounds of it she wasn't lonely anymore — and close to a good supply of food. There were no sharp, hard bushes nearby, though she had mapped out paths through the ones that now bit again, for when she needed to cross into other territories. There was a wonderfully large herd of their little running cousins on the far side of the Lonely One's territory, and they would make good hunting practice for the new hatchlings, as long as Wicked Claw's path to their meadows remained unblocked.
Once most of the weak ones were gone, they had found other hatchlings — not long out of the shell — inside the stone nest. Wicked Claw had accepted them into her pack, and showed her new mate how to raise them properly. The survivors were strong juveniles now, and off hunting for themselves. They no longer needed Wicked Claw or Wind Foot to supervise them on a hunt, and they knew better than to go after something too dangerous, like the Lonely One. They should be back in a few days, sated and ready to welcome the new hatchlings.
Wind Foot couldn't hunt at Wicked Claw's side anymore, not since she'd fought the Lonely One that ate Shadow Stalker. But she did take good care of the nest, so Wicked Claw held off on culling her, for now. At least not until the juveniles finished growing up, and the strongest could form the base of her new pack.
The bushes rustled, and her mate, Watcher, stepped up beside her. It had taken some work — she'd also eventually had to rip apart his wasp stick so he couldn't hit her with the sleeping wasps anymore — but he had finally accepted his place at the head of her pack, and taught the juveniles to obey him. He hunted beside her while Wind Foot watched the nest, and soon their own hatchlings would crack their eggs. She was sure he had made strong hatchlings with her.
In time, their pack would grow, and become strong again. Stronger than even the Lonely One, and they might be able to drive her from their territory if she attacked again. The weak ones had all been culled or driven away, and though part of her missed the easy hunts, Wicked Claw was happy to show off her skills for her mate. He was especially appreciative when she brought down a horned one all by herself. He had shown off his own prowess by bringing down a rock tail when Wind Foot failed to catch it.
Wicked Claw clicked at the Watcher, and he rubbed a hand down her neck. The hatchlings would emerge from their shells soon — she'd already caught a small long neck for them to feast on when they did — and their pack would soon dominate again. With her clever Watcher beside her, and their pack growing stronger by the day, nothing else stood a chance against them.