Feral Heart

A half smirk appeared on Billy's face as closer investigation revealed it to be a simple girl. He clicked his tongue and urged Westwood into a bouncy canter to get closer, pulling the stallion up into a walk then a halt next to the stranger. "Well, well, well, what on Earth is a purty little thing like you doin' way out here all alone?" He smirked, walking Westwood out next to the girl.

"Pff, come on, I'm making this up as I go," Flak huffed with a smirk, leaping up just in time to avoid being swatted by one of the beast's enormous paws. As soon as his paws hit the concrete, he immediately sprang off again, leaping onto the creature's lumpy, abnormally muscular back. "Okay, when it raises its head-" Flak's sentence was cut off by the beast's furious snarling as it reared up trying to shake him from its back. "-you go for the throat," he finished, clinging tight to it with his forepaws. As the creature's fore paws returned to the ground, Flak stammered up and crept forward a few steps, his legs splayed to keep his balance on its uneven back. Now aligned where he wanted to be, he shot his head forward and locked his jaws around on of the beast's tiny ears. Jerking his head up, he pulled its head back, leaving its upper throat vulnerable for attack. The creature's black blood began trickling down the side of its face as it roared, furiously trying to free itself from Flak's grip on its odd small ear.

In the year 1890, the wilds of the western parts have yet to be tamed. Small human towns have been set up, yes, but that doesn't mean the west is won quite yet. Few cowboys and cowgirls dare to venture outside the town limits into the untamed wilderness, and those who do may not return. The western wilderness holds many dangers; from ruthless bandits to wolves and bears, a lone human rarely stands a chance in these unforgiving environments. Think you have what it takes to survive?

Characters can be either human, or any realistic animal.
 
Rules:
1. Follow the typical Feral Heart rules
2. No powerplay
3. Be realistic.  c:

Guidelines for human characters:                     Guidelines for animal characters:
                      
Name:                                                                    Name:
Age:                                                                       Age:
Occupation:                                                           Species
Items/Equipment:                                                  Breed:
Companions(Including their horse, if one)             Personality:
Weapons:                                                              Appearance:
Personality:                                                           Extra Info:
Apparel:
Extra Info:

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Character Name: Billy
Species: Human
Age: 20
Occupation: Bandit
Items/Equipment: Saddle bag, typical western tack, satchel, canteen, pots and pans, small amount of fire wood, rope & lasso.
Companions: Black Quarter Horse stallion with three white sock markings and a slim white blaze down his face, named Westwood.
Weapons: Two side pistols, hunting knife, shotgun which is always slung over his back.
Apparel: Red flannel long sleeve under shirt, leather vest, slacks, western boots and spurs, Stetson hat, jacket. Has short, thick dark blonde hair.
Personality: Billy is very straight forward and never withholds from speaking his mind. He can be a bit flirty, but clings to no person. He considers Westwood as the only companion he needs, and as his only family. He can be cocky, but is rather sly, and very good at what he does.
Extra Info: Billy is known well by locals, who have given him the nickname "Young Gun" because of his unmatched shooting skills. He is able to pull off the largest robberies in the West, and is always on the move, and finds it easy to avoid the law. Always has five o' clock shadow stubble.

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     Billy sat slumped over in the saddle as his horse, Westwood carried him North, away from town. He used the cover of night to his advantage as he made his easy slip away from the tiny town. Clutching losely to the reins, he sat forward in the saddle and gave Westwood a quick kick with his spurred heels, urging the stallion into a gallop. The horse's hooves kicked up the dust and dirt of the desert wasteland as they swiftly extended the gap between them and the town.

His ears drawn back against his head, Flak concentrated on his pawsteps, making sure they were light and silent. He picked his way to the far right of the entrance, keeping his right side on the wall. Finally, he came to a steady halt at the darkened right side of the gaping hole which was the cave entrance. The beast was now more visible, though its figure was still darkened by the misty, dark outside. Its eyes glowed golden, a clear indicator that it was once a wolf. Its body shape was unnaturally large, its mutated muscles bulging. The shoulder of the creature was about two feet above Flak's head upon closer inspection. It lacked fur. Its black skin only having a few fine hairs here and there. Flak was about two feet away from it,its backside facing him. Now that they were closer, the creature's heavy breathing was much louder, and almost sounded like low grunts and growls. Flak shot Teegan a quick glance, theen glanced back at the creature. Taking in a breath, he extended his leg, hoping to slip right past it. But his hind paw prevented a safe escape. It accidentally shuffled against a plank of wood on the ground, flipping the plank over and causing a harsh bang that echoed. The creature suddenly snapped its head around with a snarl, now dimly aware of their presence

Flak let out a quiet growl and slowly pushed himself up to his feet, careful to not make any sudden moved or noises.  His black fur was bristled up in instant defensive mode, his wolfish tail raised high. The enormous figure at the entrance paused, its heavy breathing becoming the only sound in the whole ruin building. It suddenly snapped its head around making its glowing yellow eyes visible at last. It was apparent this was no ordinary canine. "Teegan, get ready to move. If it makes a move, I'll hold it off and you run for it. Got it?" Flak uttered over his shoulder in a hushed tone, his eyes still fixed on the creature.