She scented him before she saw him... her ritual was a run of the borders, and when she caught his sense, she was immediately taken back to the horror within the caves. It had followed.
She sounded a warning to any who might hear, and then set in to track the beast, hoping it hadn't encountered any of the crew. She wasn't sure with their scattered count it would be driven out, but she had to try. This wasn't its place, and she'd be damned if she lost another home so easily. Her expression was steely, but her pulse thrummed. This did not bode well.
quick lunch post bc I only have like 10 min D: she'll come upon him next round!
There was some hope that perhaps it wasn't the same creature; that this one was smaller, and maybe could be persuaded to leave. But as it came into view, apparently responding to her summons, Rosalyn knew the bay was lost. With their number, even if they did try, the cost would be far too much to pay. Maybe if Smokestep were still here, as he should be, or Raptor... she felt a sharp sting of bitterness in her throat, and anger tinged her fear.
Hopefully the others would heed her warning and scatter. All she could do was give them time. She growled and paused, unwilling to meet it full on. Instead she began to circle, then dodged in to snap at it, snarling. She didn't know of Erzulie, so close by; all she cared about was distracting it, only until she could either drive it back (impossible) or at least felt some had been given time to get clear.
permission to PP cuts/bruising/broken ribs
rosalyn was spotted; she could not escape the glaring piggish eyes of the giant beast. and so erzulie dashed from cover, a mad gallop across the sands to flank the bruin. she shouted, voice descending into a snarl; she sought to turn him round and leapt closer to chivvy at his thickly furred hip with a growl.
with hope, the other ironsea wolves would heed the captain's warning and depart with alacrity. it was the duty of the leading pair now to keep the beast from assailing those who had sought the bay for protection. erzulie's eyes burned; she dared not glance toward rosalyn even for a moment, lest the second of lost focus be her last.
She was trying to keep back, but also trying to distract, and to bring enough pain to force the monster to stop.
She was expecting to fight this alone, but then suddenly, she wasn't. Erzulie's arrival captured her attention, and the instant of relief turned to horror as she engaged the beast as well. She was supposed to have run with the rest. This wasn't her task.
She couldn't shout at her to run; she'd caught hold of the creature's paw, but was quickly cast aside, distracted now. The blow slammed her to the sand a ways away and left her seeing spots for a moment, gasping to try and catch her breath.
She wanted nothing more than to stay down, but she couldn't. So she rose shakily, frantically finding the shape of her lover, who also it seemed had been thrown aside. Fear and rage still battled, and when she saw this, rage won. She felt a fearsome sound rise and loosed it on the bear, ignoring the pain in her shoulder and side as she charged at him and set her jaws into his hind leg, aiming to tear enough to slow him down, but also to draw his eyes.
wow so i suck <3 pping to tack on a conclusion, yell at me if not ok (but not too mean plz ok)
dogs were ever the bane of shardik's life; he cursed them, hated them - he wished to see them perish under the wicked clench of his paw, crumbling off like bitter clumps of sand between his long claws.
these dogs were tenacious - they bit and they tore, and they dragged his fury out until it was spent. for every sting they delivered, he gave them an equal wallop -- at last, his energies were spent, and they, working in tandem, managed to elude him.
but he would not leave -- no -- not even the driving bite of their sharp teeth could force him to leave a space he deigned to occupy; with guttural growls he fended off each approach with a rough slap: he didn't know it, but they had worked together to keep him from the rest of the horde.
he had wounds to nurse, and with a loud grumble after a feeble swipe of his claws, shardik lurched in the direction of their cache: it appeared so long as he did not hunt the dogs, they did not engage him -- with a glutton's lusty fervor, shardik gorged -- and gorged -- and gorged --
meanwhile, the dogs slipped by him, craftier, smarter, and ultimately, still alive.