Haunted Wood seven devils in my house

maybe a wild @Vengeance?

she pulls her muzzle from the water, nose wrinkling at the slight smell of infection there. the wound Valour dealt is in a place that rule out any attempt at tending to it, save periodically shoving her face into the creek to numb and cleanse it. all that's done today is give her a headache, and so she shakes out her fur roughly before making her way to the log she'd found the previous night.

newly lacking in both a partner and teacher, both things she's becoming good at ignoring and not dealing with in the slightest, she's found instead an old, half-rotten log that serves as a practise dummy. as she starts practising the moves Cass had taught her, she feels entirely stupid at first. but as she falls into a rhythm, it gets easier, until she's entirely absorbed in the rhythmic attacks, each time attempting to move just a little bit faster.

TIS I, NEVER FEAR VENGEANCE RACHE IS HERE

Everyone seemed to be settling well. Though the pups needed much work in training, it seemed like their previous guardians focused too much on the beauty of childhood rather than getting them ready for the horrors that the world truly had in store for them. But it was nothing he couldn't handle, nothing he couldn't break. 

Speaking of the pups... in his little jaunt through the misty woods, he came across a sight. The young female pup was practicing against a rotten log - though he had to give her kudos for doing her best with what she had, he had to speak up and put in his two cents upon seeing such a sight. You learn quicker against a living opponent. He said carelessly, throwing it out there with no real thought behind it.

Even prey are a better opponent than a rotten log.

OH LAWD HE'S COMING

she whirls back to face him, the movement smooth despite her surprise. she's still ashamed at how the fight against Valour had gone, especially when she'd brought him down so easily the first time. she supposed that was the result of going against her mother's advice. Vengeance's advice is sound, and while she's still intimidated by him, she refuses to let that show. 

"prey's getting harder to find. and most die too quick, anyways." it was natural instinct to dispose of prey as quickly as possible, and while she'd tried launching attacks on them back in the wood, they never lived more than a few moments, especially if scylla was involved.

And so you give up your hunt and practice on a wooden target instead? What kind of warrior throws in the towel because it's "too hard" to find their target? He retorted with a quirk of the brow. One would think that mercenaries would relish in the challenge of finding prey and prowling until they finally find what they are looking for. That thrill of accomplishment in killing instead of splinters in the tongue. 

Not only do you disappoint in a fight, but your ambition to do great is also pathetic. With a frown he continued, a look of utter disgust crossing his dark features as he looked down upon her, both literally and metaphorically. Or has your previous pack failed to teach you the proper ways of survival and the beauty of war? A failure, that's what he saw - and what he would do everything to avoid when it came to raising any young. They would thrive as warriors in their own way and survive by any means necessary just as he did.

she did not expect this reaction, did not expect the need to defend even the simplest action against the leader. "one who knows when they're wasting time," she retorts, cool veneer fading rapidly. her face grows hot, burning rage rapidly undercutting the cool facade she's masqueraded so long. 

it isn't fair. her mother, dead, crushed and alone and worthless in her passing. thrust into an entirely new world, half by chance and half by her own bidding, in which she is no longer the confident, arrogant bully she was, entirely alone for the first time. and now the male looks at her as if she's scum, for reasons she can not make sense of. "you know nothing about me." she hates the world, hates him, and so she moves with the speed of a viper in an attempt to tear at his muzzle suddenly and violently, spinning away just as quickly, knowing better than to stay within range of those great teeth.

A growl begins to rumble within his throat as she defends herself against his words. Hunting and practicing your battle techniques on prey is a waste of time? Even if it may feed you, or another? He snapped, teeth clicking as he sneered at her. His tone rising this time as he was beginning to lost interest in this brat. Tail behind him lashing as his patience grew thin, behind those ruby eyes, daggers stared right at the young whelp as he continued to close the distance between them. 

I know enough. Lazy. Spoiled. A good for nothing. You believe that life should take it easy on you because your mother passed away, but I'm here to make you stronger than that. And just like that, he became her opponent. A living, breathing opponent who will bite back. One she had to work against in order to learn anything, to learn something than a log who will sit and take it no matter how weak your hits were. With a lunge he snapped at her smaller body, teeth hungry to draw blood. He would not go easy on her just for being a youth, for being new - should she remain, to obtain a higher rank one would have to fight to obtain it - fight to keep it.

she has given up on trying to make the man see sense, and sees now that he is not the sithis she imagined him; but a man, dull and mortal and spitting poison. it is when he speaks of her mother that she starts; no one knows that, no one should, no one can, because that would make it real and vivid and ugly. 

he retorts, his blow dodged barely as his fangs catch briefly in the loose fur along her spine, dropping low and surging up, she seeks to drop behind his maw and seek a grip in the hollow of his throat. she knows the lifeblood that flows there, wants to feel it, tear it, taste it more than ever before. she had not known that such a feeling was possible, that anger could be so fierce and so focused.

At least she moved. He was beginning to think she was far too lazy to even save her own skin. She dropped and disappeared behind his chin, her small frame made it harder to land a deadly hit, but if he could grab onto her... he'd made her wish she had been more proactive, or that she had died long ago by the side of her blasted mother.

Her aim was true, she grabbed onto his jugular, but her youthful teeth, though sharp and caused discomfort, did not draw enough blood for the wound to be significant. His skin was thick from previous battles and age. And should she continue to hold on, would be in for the ride of her life as he shook violently from side to side in order to shake her off - and if he could, case dizziness while she flies off (should her player choose to do so of course). 

Once the connection between them had left (how long she hung on for as up to Thalia), he was hellbent on sinking his teeth into her, he continued his assault to snap and this time he swung his paws like as cat to a mouse, attempting to beat and batter her.

she seizes his throat fast, and for a moment feels the beat of his lifeblood, knows it to be close. for one thrilling moment, she imagines that she rents it open, that the great beast falter and stumble. but then she's hitting the ground with a light thud as she rolls back onto her feet (she'd always suspected cassiopeia had enjoyed tossing scylla and herself around when it came to this part of their lessons) only to be met by a snap of those great jaws. 

fur is tugged loose as she narrowly escapes a true grip, only to be met by a blow from one of his paws. again, she strikes at her like a cat a mouse, and she glimpses the soft underside of those great paws only an instant before lunging, attempting to tear into the man's pawpads in an attempt to exploit the sensitive area and pause his onslaught.

The loose skin that allowed a puppy to grow into their adult form was always a pest when dealing with them. They were so squirmy and quick, their fur so slippery it made it difficult to have a firm grasp on them before they slipped away into the sanctuary of distance from his bone-crushing grip. 

Commendably she went for his paw pads after he had battered her triumphantly, a sensitive place for anyone who had not already built up callus. The tough, dry, thick pads were being chewed by the youngster, and though they bled, it did little other than annoy the boogeyman Vengeance. He had a move for almost anything, having so done so many fights before, there were little he didn't already see by now, little he did not do already to someone else and watch their own counters or reaction. To this... he aimed to crush her. With a flip of his paw, should she keep to her target, would be under his pressure against the ground.

This is what practicing against living things do. You are prepared for anything.

a moment later she is pinned, and though she struggles fiercely, desperately for a moment, she knows she's beaten. and so she relaxes enough to listen when he speaks, though the blood pounding in her ears threatens to drown him out, and the heat of self-righteous anger makes it hard to keep still. when she can, she wiggles free to face him, panting, anger and shame heating her cheeks. she nods once, curtly, struggling to keep her composure but unwilling to scream, or yell, or anything else in front of him. unwilling to remain in his presence any longer, she turns quickly on her heel and head for her den to tend to her hurts and perhaps scream into the dirt.

She ceased her struggling and though her anger didn't seem to make it clear that she learned much of anything, he stopped his advancements and allowed the girl to make her hurried leave. Eventually he would break through to her, eventually, he would do the same to all the pups. These emotions would be put to good use, just as volatile as they are, it would only bring them success in the future should they all learn how to use it to their advantage. 

For now, he too would be off. To head back to the den and sleep off the rest of the day until it was time to patrol the borders once night fell.