Wolf RPG

Wednesday hungered to be on top. She would take lives one by one if she could do it... and she would damn well try. She stalked for the one who was ranked above her; he would be the first she challenged here. And she would fight to kill, as she always did in these instances. She howled for him, and waited, setting her defenses and preparing for the onslaught she would bring to him. Wednesday was eager for this to begin. Eager to finish this. That she might die did not occur to her.

Goliath had been quite furious lately. Was it really necessary for him to have left the sleeping dragon? He had heard her howl once echoing through the forest as he was resting. He perked his eyebrows, would this one really think she can threaten him. Atleast he admired their courage.

He didn't hurry himself, yet once he arrived, he could see that it was a rather large... female? Would he really have to take out a wench? He grunted his arrival, and set himself in battle stance. He would be happy to have a head as his first trophy. He shook his head and transformed into the berserker that he was, snarling, he leapt at his enemy.

Wednesday watched as he came for her. He was large; she had not estimated this in her opponent, though she should have. Her mind was clouded with thoughts of the future, of the woman she would give her progeny to. That she might die seemed a terrible thing, now. That she could lose looked possible. Did she submit? Did she give up? Even then, he might take from her her life! There was a chance she could win, as she could not foresee the future... and she did not think herself pathetic.

So she would fight the fight of her life! As he lunged for her, Wednesday adjusted her position to leap at him in turn, simply from an angle he himself had exposed in his jump. She came at him from his left, hoping her bulk would be enough to cause him to fall from his airborne position into the earth, so that he could be further opened to her to bring to an end.

His repressed rage lashed out on her. As he flew against her, she collided with him midair, but as he fell against the harsh floor, he could pick himself up after a stunned moment. Goliath threw in random bites, trying to grasp her neck, so the he could pin her down. Anger fueled to the top of his head, and he threw a rage-blind attack towards the nameless one. She would regret even thinking about threatening his rank.

the sounds of strife were not unknown to the ship of the pillagers, and so she paid it hardly any heed. yet inner intuition instructed the woman to go down unto the place of the fighting, and there she saw with horror that her pale handmaid was grappling with a great brute of a man. ignoring the rules that said wolves may vie for supremacy, even to the point of killing one another, the woman lunged through the sands, to strike at the shoulder of the man who pinned her lover to the earth with the intention of murder writ into his features.

Wednesday grappled against the great bulk of the beast. It was difficult, given the fact that she had already suffered from great blood-loss and had not truly prepared herself for a fight again so soon. Couple that with her inexperience in fighting on this sort of terrain, it spelled obvious death. Her thoughts were dark and dismal, but she fought on, relentless. His random bites connected, though none yet reached the mark of her neck. As she went to deliver a blow against him, in the corner of her eye came the most dominant among them; Wednesday was distracted for a potentially fatal moment, but she knew that if she died, undoubtedly so too would Goliath. Certainly by her would-be lover. And his corpse would be for Gristle and the Gamma both. Her own corpse would be respected by the duo, but Goliath's would be torn apart.

Wednesday looked to him and waited to see if he would back down, or if he would still fight; she would not go down alone, this day!

With a quick timed shot, Goliath had his jaw surrounding the wench's neck. His thirst for blood almost made him give the final blow, that was, until he saw what distracted his opponent. Another wolf, probably an ally, that could easily pounce on him now, but with him he would take the life of his rival. If this large female would even move, he would kill her, so he decided to keep her hostage.

"Goliath keep rank" he hissed through his clenched jaw on the woman "war-wench lives, me live and all home" it would be stupid to trade his life for such a foul beast, but he had to. If he wanted to live, he had to have risk, and this his bet on how much she cared for the beast beneath him.

She must've not heard him, because she came barreling down. Before she collided with him, he shouted as loud as possible, HOPING that he would hear him. "HALT OR WENCH DIE

Passing by, he stopped to observe with cruel interest the scene. How curious, the man-beast wench was pinned beneath the biggest brute of them all. It looked like she was about to be killed, but a flash of white heralded a possible shift in the outcome. Ferahgo was perked forward with interest, not only to see the clash between the two, but to see that the one he fancied seemed to fancy the one that he could hardly stand to look at it.

at the bellow from the man, the countess checked her attack, sailing past the giant wolf to land in an ungainly manner upon the sands. whirling, she recovered herself swiftly. "she rises, now, and you do not follow, or i shall tear out your throat." it was perhaps comical to any who watched -- the hungarian had not seen ferahgo in her ire -- that such a delicate-seeming creature should openly threaten one who could crush her with one well-placed blow. but it mattered not to the countess; she assembled her legs o'ertop of her handmaiden as well, seeking to force the brutish male away from his victim.

Her throat was in the others mouth. She knew her life could end in an instant, and surely Goliath would be doing himself and the rest of the world a great favor in doing so. But it seemed The Big Bad had earned a more-than-friend in a high place that gave her the mere opportunity to live at the end of this. It was strange, very strange. She heard the blood humming in her eardrums, felt her adrenaline. There was some shame in her failure. But then she had suffered and done much with little rest in between.

The warm leg of her lover came upon her shoulders. A breath of relief wheezed from her tightly clasped throat; not for the fact that she felt she would live, which she still was unsure of, but for the touch of the other. Wednesday was no snarling mess; the ear left peeled back in defense and deference, for the moment, both. Goliath was the clear winner. He had every right to take her life. But he would pay for it with his, a hefty price.

Perhaps Goliath was the only wolf here she could not win against for his girth and her exhaustion. They were a good match of a fight, but she had been bested and she did not pretend to be greater than she was now that she had lost.

He hissed as he dropped the neck of the female below him. Slowly, he began to retreat away from the two wenches. Goliath eyed them as he retreated from the battle scene. One couldn't say he dissapeared, as from afar one could still see him shuffle away. It would have been quite comedic if the situation hadn't been so grim, but he left off without another word.

 

the man released her handmaid and erzsébet watched him coldly until he had disappeared from view. it was then that she spotted ferahgo, and, reminded of his earlier rejection, was chafed somewhat. lowering her muzzle to the pale wolf's ear, she whispered, "rise and follow me," and then pulled aside to set off along the sands, passing past their captain and sparing him only a submissive nod as she led the injured woman to the place they had chosen for a shelter.

Ferahgo had pegged Goliath wrong. He thought the male a mindless beast. He thought his thirst for blood was so great that it would come at the cost of his own life. He thought the male foolish and strong enough to carry out his dirty work without question, and without failure. Never did he think he would see the brute release a fatal hold as a bargain for his own life. He was wrong.

The Captain's snout was buckled into harsh lines. He made haste to intercept @Goliath, standing before him bristled and furious. "Ye lily-livered swine," intoned the Captain, low and cold. "I have no use for ye. Walk the plank!" It was with an impatient jerk of his head that he gestured south toward the land bridge, where the tide was rising rapidly and had already devoured half of it. The Captain knew this inherently, as if his own blood rose and fell like the sea and he could feel it.

To be ordered to walk the plank was a rare thing; most often, the only way out of the Captain's crew was through death, and even then, your bones were added to the crew's coffers or made into a jolly roger, and so, you still never really got to leave. Had the sea not been rising, this would have been the case; but Ferahgo liked to see the condemned scurry to make it ashore before the sea threw herself upon them and drowned them. It was a good show for the foul Captain.

He couldn't believe it.
He was being kicked out. 

Goliath cast a sharp glance at the 'Captain'. The male blabbered something, and the only thing that Goliath understood was "Walk the Plank!". He turned his head, and saw the rising tide of the waters clash. 

He ultimately didn't understand the danger, yet only when he was traversing down past did he realise the reason he was placed to walk here. As fast as his fat legs could take him, he tumbled through the seawater, the waves growing higher and higher, smacking his body. 


Goliath must have drunk gallons of water as he walked through, as when he arrived on the sandy shore of the other side, he fell head first against the sand, coughed and vomited what salt water was left in his lungs and stomach, the air even smelled of the sea. Slowly he got up once more, and walked away from the shores. Never again would he stay near those waters.

The male fled, and Ferahgo followed him with a snort, gripping the edge of his ship as he watched the husky wolf scamper across the plank. The tides rose to lick at his husky flanks, but the wolf powered through the sea, and made it across to the other side, to the disappointment and frustration of the Captain, who had hoped to see him splutter and thrash and ultimately drown. He levelled his snout as he stared across the ocean and watched that hulking shape disappear from the coast.