R everything's fucked and we don't even know

[Odette]

He claimed to not speak any differently than she did, but there were certainly some differences. It fit him, though, almost sounded natural out of his mouth, like something she wouldn't question.

"It's how I was raised," she said simply. "It's how everyone around me speaks. It's proper." She was reciting, verbatim, what she'd been taught when she was learning the basics of etiquette.

A scent reached her nose, but being untrained and never having to worry about going hungry a day in her life, Odette wasn't certain how to best address it. "I smell something," she murmured. "Rodents. Mice?"

[Vargulf]

CW: Cannibalistic thoughts

An ear curved at the sound of her words and in response a chortle of his own responded in kind. "Proper," he mused with a laugh, "Proper, proper, proper..." The words slipped through his teeth with ease as he played with the sound of them. "What is 'proper'?" The other voice inside of him asked, head tilting to his side as a tight-lipped smile spread along the lines of his mouth.

Vargulf cared little for the answer, however. In fact, it was merely spoken haphazardly as the instincts within himself battled against his own hunger. A decision he'd ultimately have to make and one he was finding oddly difficult to commit to.

Was he hungry? Or was he Hungry?

Ultimately, Vargulf would not uncover the answer just yet.

Instead, his attention would be pulled towards a place deep within the cave. A scent. A smell, one that Odette had claimed there was. The beast sniffed, his chin arching to the sky as his head wobbled from side to side.

At first, he smelled nothing, and the tiny voice that lived inside him brightened with a carnivorous desire. But then--there it was.

Was it food?

Rats or bats?

Maybe even mice?

The beast's spirits lifted, and as such, the unsuspecting girl had granted herself a few more hours--perhaps more. "Vargulf smells it," he said, "Princess will find it, yes?"

[Odette]

Odette wasn’t entirely sure what the source of the smell was. Her nose wasn’t trained to differentiate between such creatures; all she knew was that it was a rodent.

And then, as they padded further inward, and he asked the question, she felt a buffet of warm air hit her. It wasn’t warm, per se, but it was warmer than the outside temperatures for sure. With it brought the unmistakable scent of a skunk.

She licked her chops, all too eager to find herself something juicier to eat than a mouse or a rat, when his question finally registered. ”Princesses need not hunt for themselves,” she said, without haughtiness or snark; it was a simple fact. She stared at him, waiting for him to offer to go get food for them.

[Vargulf]

Already, Vargulf could sense the growing pangs of hunger stiffen at his belly. The greedy claws of starvation raked at his sides as each contraction shifted and squeezed against his abdomen. The talk of food did nothing but encourage such cravings to grow wilder, more ravenous against the emptiness in his gut. In fact, he nearly whined against the sensation, and he would’ve, if Odette hadn’t spoken up.

Greedy eyes shifted towards the pretty Princess as she spoke, claiming that Princesses did not hunt for themselves. Did that mean—

He stared for a moment longer as though weighing the options that lied in front of him.

The scent of food lingered, warm and familiar, as his nose twitched against the stale air. He knew that animal. Recognized its scent. But past his better judgement lied an ache, a longing for something juicy and tender and sweet.

He needed to sink his teeth into something and soon.

There was an unintelligible grumble of words that came from the voice inside him. It spoke in a low, hushed tone, aggrieved and ungrateful and far too scrambled to discern its words. But that wasn’t so, Vargulf thought as he reasoned with the voice. If anything, Vargulf would get the first bite, no?

The beast nodded, uncaring of the consequences and far too ensnared with the prospect of food. “Vargulf gets first bite.”

He pushed forward, following the scent as though spellbound.

The cave was dark, but the smell of his spoils were no match for Vargulf’s nose. Meters away lied a skunk, its nails scratching against the cool-toned earth of the cave. It ambled aimlessly in the darkness, no doubt looking for the same exit the pair of them had entered through. But alas, the labyrinth of the cave would be its final resting place, Vargulf thought, before it entered his belly.

The man moved, following his nose as quick and agile as he could be. And without wasting a moment, the man lunged. He hoped that his quick feet and skilled sense of smell would allow him to make quick work of the meal in front of him.

Agility roll [roll=1d20+3]

// any type of failure he misses the skunk and gets sprayed, barely success he clips the skunk and does not get sprayed but the skunk runs, and success/crit success he does not get sprayed and he gets hold of the skunk

[Odette]

Vargulf claimed first bite. Were Odette not so hungry, she might have objected to this, but saving her own energy and allowing the man to hunt for her sounded like the better plan, even if he did get his choice of the meat.

“First bite it is,” she agreed, loping slowly behind him as he went in pursuit of the animal.

But then, oh, my. Vargulf got sprayed. The horrific smell rose up in her face, even though she hadn’t been involved in the pursuit of the rabbit, making her nose scrunch up and her eyes water.

She coughed against the smell and ran toward the cave entrance for fresh air.

[Vargulf]

Vargulf regretted his actions almost immediately. It did not matter that it was dark, it did not matter that he could not see, the beast could smell and that had been enough to remind him of the consequences.

As soon as his teeth had clicked on empty air, a miserable feeling of fear crept its way up his throat. He knew what was about to happen. Vargulf didn't even have the chance to backpedal, to flee nor retreat. Within seconds, the air around him became bitter, suffocating his very throat as he gagged and choked against the smell.

His eyes watered and turned red as he blinked away the odor, as if that could do anything. Though more horrifying than that came the foam, it bubbled and frothed out the sides of his jowls as he whimpered and cried against its taste.

Vargulf could hear the fleeing steps of Odette, and with no other choice than to retreat as well, Vargulf ran after her. His eyes were pulled wide, his mouth gaped open as clouds of froth spilled from his jaws, and he snapped wildly as though he could escape the bitter taste of the skunk's spray.

[Odette]

Odette ran from him. She had lived a fairly clean lifestyle so far, one unencumbered by gross things and suffering wolves. She had heard of the terrors of a skunk’s spray, heard of the effects it can have—that it could drive a wolf mad, temporarily, from the potency.

She wanted no part of it. Odette would not risk being exposed to any madness caused by Vargulf, nor risk catching it if she got too close to smell him.

Though, when she heard him running up behind her, she chanced a glance behind her at the cave’s entrance. Her fears were confirmed: he was foaming at the mouth and snapping wildly, his eyes wide.

She screamed, a blood-curdling scream bordering on a howl that may have been heard down in the basin between the Spines, and shot down the side of the mountain.

//She’s basically attempting to flee oops

[Vargulf]

Despite how wide his eyes were pulled apart, the world in front of the beast was blurred. The skunk’s fumes were no match for the mere mortality of his body, and as such, his red-rimmed eyes teared. Hazy figures of the sky, the clouds, and the rocks around him became nothing more than indistinct circles. Blurbs of nothingness, one could argue.

He could not discern any form of tracks and it was only the features directly in front of him that Vargulf could see.

But he could hear.

Past the clicking sound of his teeth and the gurgles of growls mixed with froth, he could hear Odette scream. He could hear her run. His paws settled into a trot, ears swiveling against the receding sound. She was running.

Running away from him.

Running away from their meal.

Vargulf was now hungry and hindered.

He could not hunt for himself. The prey would smell him.

And it was Odette’s fault, he concluded to himself, for making him this way.

Patience turned to anger and Vargulf released one of his own howls in tandem against her scream—a horrific melody harmonizing against the winter sky.

And with that, a hunt began.

Intelligence roll[roll=1d20+2]

// We can fade the thread here, if you'd like! Vargulf is far behind, but he's attempting to track her