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"With it or on it." - Eurycrates - December 16, 2018
Can patience be taught, or is it born into a man? Eurycrates has proven the former untrue, time and again. The Lycurgean efforts to drill order into his brain have failed, and so, too, have Caiaphas's commands. He cannot rest while one of Rusalka's is imprisoned. He will not.
Pelt bristling, he leaves the sound and begins to scale the cliffs, traveling the narrow pathway the Drageda scum had led him up before. All the while, his nose is lifted, searching for any traces of the scent that clings to Erzulie, that clings to them all. But still so close to the sound, it is difficult. . .
Where is she? . . .Is she? Have they spared her, or killed her out of spite?
Pelt bristling, he leaves the sound and begins to scale the cliffs, traveling the narrow pathway the Drageda scum had led him up before. All the while, his nose is lifted, searching for any traces of the scent that clings to Erzulie, that clings to them all. But still so close to the sound, it is difficult. . .
Where is she? . . .Is she? Have they spared her, or killed her out of spite?
sorry the dice said so
RE: "With it or on it." - Mallaidh - December 16, 2018
With all the changes, everyone is on edge, and that’s not including her own twisted turmoil over everything. She shouldn’t have been with Artaax a second time; she shouldn’t have turned around and coerced Blixen into the same thing in a weak attempt to make herself feel better. Being with Blixen was supposed to give everything, make all the pieces fit together. It was supposed to make it easier to choose Blixen, after all this time, but she finds her thoughts all too often drifting to Artaax.
As her mind is distracted, she doesn’t register the foreign scent right away. It tickles something in the back of her nose but she keeps moving, picking her way through the redwoods until she sees a sliver of brown and silver out of place.
Mallaidh stiffens, freezing her gait to watch as he passes by one tree, and then another, heading the exact opposite way he should be going. Her fur bristles, thickening her mane around her shoulders, and moving on swift, silent feet as she backtracks the way she came to intercept him where she should have earlier. He is large and his body speaks of experience but she does not have time to compare and decide in this situation when danger is afoot.
A low growl starts in her chest and increases in warning, pulling out in front of him to intercept wherever the hell he’s going.
RE: "With it or on it." - Eurycrates - December 16, 2018
He knows it will not be long before he is intercepted. Sure enough, a silvery girl with a dark face--oddly enough, the marking reminds him of Caiaphas--confronts him, growling. She is tall and leggy, but with a quiet strength he will not doubt. Eurycrates puffs himself up in response, coming closer instead of turning tail.
He'd lose whatever respect he has for Drageda left should this wench take him to the prisoner without a fight.
This can be easy, or this can be difficult,the titan says, his words clipped.
Take me to the captive and no one will shed blood today.He thrusts his chin out pugnaciously, eyes flashing pale gold as he waits for her response, which will almost assuredly be negative. Right?
He'd lose whatever respect he has for Drageda left should this wench take him to the prisoner without a fight.
RE: "With it or on it." - Mallaidh - December 16, 2018
He slows down but does not stop, closing the distance between them. The fur along his back bristles and he spits out a thread and demand. She does not have the same Drageda-born fire as Artaax or Blixen or Heda has or else she might have laughed at his command. There were no other scents following with him, no other bodies at his aid. Is the pack next door so small, so foolish to send one wolf in for their captive? Is there something else afoot and this is but a decoy? One ear swivels back, listening for something she can’t quite place but it is to no success.
“The only blood shed will be yours,” she says lowly (where is @Blixen to hear to this super edgy comeback?) and peels back her lips. She has trained for months since she’s been in Drageda, since returning… since Roarke but this time she will not falter. She will not stand back will hit after hit is laid upon her. No, whoever this is has made a grave mistake and she will not think twice about laying teeth in someone not her brother. One paw trembles as a thousand new thoughts swim to the surface and her head tilts back, releasing a short, localized howl in warning to the rest of the wolves.
RE: "With it or on it." - Eurycrates - December 17, 2018
She might not laugh, but he does, a short, clipped bark that echoes off the thick trunks of the redwoods. He narrows his eyes at her, shaking his head.
And then she howls, and adrenaline races through his system. Without hesitation, he lunges, seizing her shoulder between his teeth. He tastes blood and is half-mad, suddenly, barrelling into her with all the might he can muster. She will be easy enough to blow past; it is the wolves she has summoned that gives him the slightest trepidation.
Only one of him. . .
You have chosen wrong,he informs her gravely.
This could have been easy.
And then she howls, and adrenaline races through his system. Without hesitation, he lunges, seizing her shoulder between his teeth. He tastes blood and is half-mad, suddenly, barrelling into her with all the might he can muster. She will be easy enough to blow past; it is the wolves she has summoned that gives him the slightest trepidation.
Only one of him. . .
RE: "With it or on it." - Mallaidh - December 17, 2018
Howling had been a risk, but who is she against one? She’s trained and sparred and fought before. Wanlida was her mentor. Blixen is her friend. No, she can do this. She can at least hold him off until someone else arrives.
Before her howl is even complete, he’s tearing into her. Her breath hitches in her throat, cutting the call short, and stagger back while he sinks teeth into her shoulder. Pain rips through her and she snarls, twisting her head to snap at anything she can get a grasp on while she quickly eats her word. Okay, she’s glad Blixen isn’t here to see how quickly that backfired but she doesn’t have time to think about it.
Mallaidh is sent back several steps before she can regain her footing. He directs her by the bite but quickly she anchors her feet and leans, pressing her shoulder harder into his mouth with as much effort as she has. Her own teeth latch on to thin skin, hooking under his chin and over his eat, clanking into the hard bones of his skull. While they tear as flesh nonetheless she does not have enough of a grasp to pull him off, so she sears at him with teeth until she can get a better grip.
RE: "With it or on it." - Opalia - December 17, 2018
Her world has changed, and left behind in the aftermath, she justified her sadness, sorrow, and rage. There is comfort in routine however, and distraction in keeping busy. Something she picked up really, really quickly from her father evidently. Usually she did try to follow him. It was how she kept up on pack happenings most of the time.. but lately, she didn't always have the heart to see him be sad all the time too.
She had been a notch above despondent while she headed for the outskirts, trying to get into the mood for it. It's something to do and once there, she knows it will be better. Getting there, getting started, it isn't always easy. She can't always get the focus together and all it takes it a simple reminder and she's right back to mourning how it used to be, simple and carefree while she helped guard her mother's flower gathering stops, or keep an eye out while she looked for new sources. Opalia wished that she had appreciated it more, or known that she needed to because her sister would one day turn-tail and leave them all, effectively burning up their image of a happy, whole family.
But, it's that howl cut short from nearby that throws her into actual attentiveness. She gives a little start at the sound itself. Something's going on, and she's not surprised, but she's near so she had to get there. Thankfully she can make short work of it, although the two are already engaged by the time she finds them.
She doesn't know what's going on exactly and she's never seen a real fight before, but she's the first backup to come rushing to the scene. Spars, hunts, it's similar mechanics and ingrained in her very marrow but she can't help how wide her eyes are when she sees how fierce the swing of their jaws actually are. He smelled like the neighbors though, and attacking Mallaidh was cause enough despite no real experience, or answers, Opalia had to help. She darted forward from directly behind him and aimed her teeth for the meatiest part of his haunch.
(don't wait up for me in post order if i'm ever slow, i work lots this week so idk how it will be)
RE: "With it or on it." - Ephraim - December 17, 2018
He was returning to Hougeda, bladder empty from soaking the southern borders so heavily that it could be scented several miles away, when a short blast of a howl sounded out like a horn not far from his position. At the same time as his hackles flared, his stomach plummeted with dread. He'd heard that urgent sort of sound before. It had sometimes punctuated the nights in Trigeda when the battles were raging on, keeping him and the other Goufa awake and accompanying the smell of blood on the wind. Threats and temper aside, Ephraim hadn't wanted war to come to Drageda. He'd wanted to crush them before they could muster their strength against his home.
He spun on his heel and was off like a shot, employing all the speed his light frame afforded him. He might not be as strong as many of the Drageda core but he was damn fast, and his small rapier-like body could dart in and out with ease. He knew his value in a fight, but nonetheless, cold fear found a hold on his brain near the top of his spine so that when he arrived on the scene, he was running mostly on instinct and adrenaline. He wasn't thinking much at all. His eyes darted over Mallaidh with the brute—Eurycrates!—latched onto what Ephraim mistakenly thought was her throat. The last vestiges of sense left him and he flung himself wildly into the fray, aiming to sink his teeth into the bastard's flank.
His eyes were alight with feral madness. He didn't even see Opalia at Eurycrates' rear. He didn't even have the faculties to question where Eurycrates' army was. He purely was, in that moment, an unthinking animal.
RE: "With it or on it." - Blixen - December 17, 2018
nyoooom, feel free to roll or decide if she hits or not haha
unlike her companion, her own thoughts since their afternoon in the tangle have been smooth, calm: it was the final piece of a puzzle blix has been struggling with since they met, fit perfectly into place. oh, sure, if she's lucky enough to get a next time (and god she hopes so) she'll be better, less clumsy, hopefully, but that's not really what matters, right? she loves furi. she loves furi and she can do this forever, wait forever, just... exist with her forever.
(though she would really like a next time, just saying.)
she's kept busy trying to accommodate to the tangle, but she's still, for now, responsible for tending to drageda's borders. thankfully she is not too far off when mallaidh's howl goes up -- that's not a "hey someone is here" call, that's a cry for help. alarmed, the fleimkepa takes off toward her -- toward furi, currently embroiled in a fight with some strange man. she sees his teeth meet her shoulder and her vision goes red.
snarling, blixen throws herself into the fray, not even noticing opalia or ephraim at his flank. a bright red missle, she aims for his side, barrelling into him without consideration for her own body, trying to sink her teeth into whatever she reaches first.
RE: "With it or on it." - Andraste - December 17, 2018
Like the others, she had heralded Mallidah’s call for aid.
Unlike them, she wavered on that craggy threshold from redwoods to battle.
Her hesitancy didn't come from the fear of a skirmish, as much as it was an urge to hold back.
As the flemikepa, skayona, and a cream-cloaked she-wolf took arms to assault that dastardly intruder, Aure couldn’t help but linger back. Perhaps it was a foolish hunch, and she should haul ass to help—but something didn’t feel right.
Why was there only one of Rasaulka’s?
The spirit of her body and blood strained towards the snarls and whines and heat of hate. Her bones beckoned her to follow reason of her basic instinct. But instead, her brow furrowed, taking into account their surroundings; bright, keen eyes narrowing in on redwood beyond and foliage close to them all.
Unlike them, she wavered on that craggy threshold from redwoods to battle.
Her hesitancy didn't come from the fear of a skirmish, as much as it was an urge to hold back.
As the flemikepa, skayona, and a cream-cloaked she-wolf took arms to assault that dastardly intruder, Aure couldn’t help but linger back. Perhaps it was a foolish hunch, and she should haul ass to help—but something didn’t feel right.
Why was there only one of Rasaulka’s?
The spirit of her body and blood strained towards the snarls and whines and heat of hate. Her bones beckoned her to follow reason of her basic instinct. But instead, her brow furrowed, taking into account their surroundings; bright, keen eyes narrowing in on redwood beyond and foliage close to them all.
RE: "With it or on it." - Kasatka - December 17, 2018
Elsewhere in the woods, a call rang out sharp and clear: INTRUDERS!
Kasatka howled loud enough to wake the territory before turning and fleeing from the shadowy figures.
Happens around the same time as this: https://wolf-rpg.com/showthread.php?tid=31466
RE: "With it or on it." - Raleska - December 17, 2018
Eurycrates’ departure did not go unnoticed. Thinking herself a master sneak, Raleska had tailed after him, noticing the set edge of his jaws and the hardened focus of his stare. She was unaware that her mother’s harem moved alongside them, and as she lurked behind a screen of thick tangle, she strained her ears to hear the conversation that ensued.
From body language alone she could tell things were quickly going south. She heard Eurycrates’ scornful demand, and then startled as a howl from his interceptor shook the forest.
Knowing then her options were limited, Raleska burst from the woods. Her heart was going a mile a minute but somehow her legs were going faster - all she wanted to do was put herself between Eurycrates and his assailants, and she too threw herself into the fray with all the finesse one expects of a yearling.
Her teeth snap for anything they can find, but mostly she was trying to haul back the brute forces that fell to Eurycrates’ hide. If she could just prove as a distraction, maybe he could get away before his life was claimed.
RE: "With it or on it." - Eurycrates - December 17, 2018
Like flies to a rotting carcass, they come. One, two, three. . .and more linger nearby. Oh, this is -- this is heaven. The pain spurs him on, the scent of blood ambrosial. He fights without a care, sinking his teeth into each and every bit of flesh he can find.
That is, until he catches blurred sight of Raleska, leaping into the fray.
No. . .putting her in danger had not been his intention. And while he's proud, immensely proud, of her bravery, she doesn't stand a chance.
Eurycrates pauses in his assault to launch his weight into hers, hopefully knocking her aside and out of harm's way. He casts the most fleeting of glances at her before turning to his enemies, bristling like a porcupine.
You will NOT harm her!he bellows, his voice thundering through the redwoods.
Take me to your captive.
Then he sees the insolent boy from the sound, and rushes toward him, ready and more than willing to take his scrawny neck between his jaws. If anything else, the last thing he enjoys will be the taste of coywolf marrow in his mouth.
RE: "With it or on it." - Mallaidh - December 17, 2018
When other shows up, the brute lets go of her shoulder and starts snapping on anyone else he can reach. She doesn’t fully register all who is there until she sees a blur of red rush in, throwing herself into the fray. Everyone else is a blur as she fights back the pain and moves quickly on her feet, recovering from the attack.
There’s another wolf into the mix she does not recognize, dark in color that she hardly can make out, but it elicits a response from the trespasser as he tries to knock her out of the way. Still, he demands something of them despite being outnumbered. Is the other wolf a sign there is more?
A broken howl calls in the distance from Heda but she does not have the knee jerk reaction to respond, and mostly ignores it, focused solely on the stranger at hand. She can’t focus on something else being wrong until they’ve dealt with this, not wishing to create bigger problems and leading the enemy further into their home.
Mallaidh doesn’t have time to figure it out as he launches for Ephraim (her newfound brother?). With swift feet, close enough to interfere, she snarls and lunges, aiming to cut the brute off before he reaches Ephraim, teeth aiming for soft underside of his throat.
RE: "With it or on it." - Ephraim - December 17, 2018
There was so much happening that his animal brain could hardly stand it. He began filtering out all the extraneous stuff, processing only what was directly in front of him and relevant to him. The other wolves to arrive were all just sweeps of colour and snapping jaws to him as his focus narrowed down to Eurycrates and Mallaidh. There was a moment where Eurycrates pushed back and bellowed out to them again, breaking through his reverie, and Ephraim couldn't swallow down the cackle that broke from his bloodied jaws.
What a moron! Completely outnumbered and still thinking he had a chance in hell of getting to the captive. Utterly laughable. They'd really dodged a bullet with this bloke.
But then Eurycrates was running right for him and Ephraim's animal brain took the reins again, leaving his nerves behind. He flung himself low, taking advantage of his smaller size and his lower center of gravity to slip around Eurycrates' jaws—the man cut through the skin on his nape in a painful blow but wouldn't be able to secure a hold as he had hoped to—and then wheeled around and cut up toward his shoulder, snapping savagely just as Mallaidh went for Eurycrates' throat.
RE: "With it or on it." - Opalia - December 18, 2018
On the heels of her arrival, others joined in on the assist right away. She had never felt a charge quite like that, but neither had she brushed so close to real danger, or even the real need for any of it. Mallaidh had been freed initially, but that was only the beginning; the swarm of bodies, teeth, and blood around her was difficult to follow as everything escalated.
She tried to swing in some retaliation where she could, all while attempting to avoid a real brunt of it turned back to her by flying beneath the radar enough to get lost in the chaos; she refused to think about how bad it could be, and how much trouble she could be in if this went south for her, how disappointed Dad was going to be if she got hurt, or worse, and how sad Dacio would be. She didn't register Heda's howl right now, either... She knew she was over her head; but with bloodied fur on her lips that wasn't hers.. and nothing stopping her yet, she remained determined to be some annoyance to the enemy side.
Then, suddenly, she did realize there was suddenly another intruder among them. They were snapping into the fray as well, which very nearly had the golden girl whirling back on her when a bite snipped her by surprise. Before Opalia could truly set her sights on a foe more in the realm of her league, the brute forced space between them then had the audacity to bark demands. She couldn't remember what he said the second she'd heard it, though, and she sensed the wolves above her would have none of it.
In taking all of this in, her breathing was fast, faster than ever before maybe, and next she saw him dart suddenly for Ephraim when it all could have stopped then and there. Her heart wanted to leap out her chest, but Mallaidh was close—close enough to help, hopefully. The aspiring gona quickly found herself emboldened by the motion, and used the exchange to spring after the dark-furred late arrival with her teeth first. She had been training for moments like these, after all, and had to remember how to use herself effectively if she ever intended to be of Drageda's mighty guard one day.
She went on aiming at her broadside or whatever she may reach at in time, if anything at all, and tried hope that the sounds in her periphery were her packmates wrenching free the victory here, not the other way. Opalia wouldn't let this one interfere so soon, if so. Mallaidh, Blixen, and Ephraim could handle that guy, surely..
RE: "With it or on it." - Andraste - December 18, 2018
The snowy sentinel remained where she was, rooted to the spot on that outcropping; her ivory claws digging into loam and stone. It was a hope she prayed upon, not fear, that kept her frozen there.
As another of Eurycrates’ joined the fray, and others of Drageda still, her soul lurched at the sound of Heda’s call. She was torn; part of her wanting to spirit herself away to heed Antnumbra. The other part of her — that giving, worrying part — kept her where she was.
Tense, with bated breath, and watching the chaos before her begin to rupter into something almost cataclysmic; all as Ephraim was assuaged and Mallidah made for the beserker, Eurycrates.
As another of Eurycrates’ joined the fray, and others of Drageda still, her soul lurched at the sound of Heda’s call. She was torn; part of her wanting to spirit herself away to heed Antnumbra. The other part of her — that giving, worrying part — kept her where she was.
Tense, with bated breath, and watching the chaos before her begin to rupter into something almost cataclysmic; all as Ephraim was assuaged and Mallidah made for the beserker, Eurycrates.
RE: "With it or on it." - Blixen - December 18, 2018
her mark lands satisfyingly, mouth filling with a copper tang, but it does not seem to deter the brute. his shouting goes unprocessed -- too much is happening for her to keep track of where he's aiming, how he's moving, the sight of mallaidh's blood still blazing in her head.
the man shoves away from her as a dark blur catches her attention. dimly she notices opalia, pushing from the brute on instinct, not even recognizing that the interloper is a child. one on their border is a foolish mistake. two is an act of war she intends to cut at the knee. (distantly heda's call reverberates through her, though in the moment, she does not process it for what it is).
"don't even think about it," she snarls roughly and goes for the smaller intruder, aiming for her neck.
RE: "With it or on it." - Raleska - December 18, 2018
Raleska is too inexperienced to be much good. Any brief advantage by surprise she had was immediately shrouded by her ineptitude, and as she rushed headlong into they fray, Raleska realized she might well have seized her own death warrant.
Eurycrates was jostled aside; fangs and fur flew and Raleska, slow and bewildered as she watched her packmate be assuaged, was suddenly accosted as well. She pulled back as a streak approached her periphery, the jaws of the stranger clamping loose flesh along her flank.
Never before had Raleska had fangs aimed to kill sink into her. It was an otherworldly, shockingly painful experience. She flung her head back and lunged with a snarl at the youth’s head in instinctive response. All notion of rescuing was replaced by a fierce need to survive, and Raleska whirled with teeth blazing until something mercilessly cold and cruel seized her neck.
Pain is not a hot bolt that sears your flesh and then quickly passes through. Nor is it sheathed by the rush of adrenaline to the head. It is raw and it is consuming: Raleska screamed as she had never screamed before, her voice high and full of terror as fur and skin parted from membrane, and Blixen’s fangs sank deep as a thrusted rapier.
Pain clouded judgment. Pain lead to panic.
Pulled into a ferocious furor by the agony, and the sudden realization she might see her end drawn at the fangs of an enemy, Raleska retaliated the only way she knew how. Svalinn had shown her on more than one occasion brute force could often end an uprising, and she swung herself as hard as she could into Blixen’s frame, teeth seeking shoulder - or anything really - in the attempt to break free before more wolves piled upon her.
She can only hope, as she clawed her way with berserk abandon, that Eurycrates was faring better - and if they were lucky, that they could somehow escape.
RE: "With it or on it." - Eurycrates - December 18, 2018
Eurycrates has never been afraid to die. There was the time where he had no knowledge of the concept, and when that knowledge was gained, the fear did not accompany it. He always has leaped into battle without a thought of his mortality; he is a berserker, intent on conquest. Perhaps it is the lack of true attachments, save Anaxander. . .and he knows that his brother has much the same sentiments about life and death. Whenever they go, however they go, there is more beyond this existence. On the other side of great violence is paradise.
He's chased that paradise all his life, flinging himself headlong into violence. And now it seems that it has finally come, for the titan's story was written long before Mallaidh Fearghal buried her teeth in his throat.
He is awash, suddenly, in a gilded glow of glory, the figures turning to shadow around him. It is like a great sunset, more beautiful than any he has seen. He registers only faintly the pain, the fountain of blood that spurts from his neck, the nips from the others. But all feeling is fading and fading fast; soon, he cannot even sense his own paws upon the ground. Images from his past flicker before his eyes, dancing between the redwoods.
Caiaphas and Heda both may think him daft, but he has never felt so much purpose in his life. Just as the traitor thinks himself an honorable man, surely fools attend to their errands with the idea of heroism? Just as heroes can be painted as fools, so too can fools become heroes, if the story is told in their favor.
Maybe Raleska will paint his legacy in a positive light.
He sees not her, nor any of the Drageda wolves. There is nothing but an all-encompassing light, growing brighter and brighter, like staring into the heart of the sun. He dies smiling, infinitely pleased with himself, and the fervor of righteous battle does not dim from his gaze until the ancient spirits pluck his soul from his husk of a body, guiding it toward eternal life.
He's chased that paradise all his life, flinging himself headlong into violence. And now it seems that it has finally come, for the titan's story was written long before Mallaidh Fearghal buried her teeth in his throat.
He is awash, suddenly, in a gilded glow of glory, the figures turning to shadow around him. It is like a great sunset, more beautiful than any he has seen. He registers only faintly the pain, the fountain of blood that spurts from his neck, the nips from the others. But all feeling is fading and fading fast; soon, he cannot even sense his own paws upon the ground. Images from his past flicker before his eyes, dancing between the redwoods.
Caiaphas and Heda both may think him daft, but he has never felt so much purpose in his life. Just as the traitor thinks himself an honorable man, surely fools attend to their errands with the idea of heroism? Just as heroes can be painted as fools, so too can fools become heroes, if the story is told in their favor.
Maybe Raleska will paint his legacy in a positive light.
He sees not her, nor any of the Drageda wolves. There is nothing but an all-encompassing light, growing brighter and brighter, like staring into the heart of the sun. He dies smiling, infinitely pleased with himself, and the fervor of righteous battle does not dim from his gaze until the ancient spirits pluck his soul from his husk of a body, guiding it toward eternal life.
Ἠλύσιον πεδίον.
RE: "With it or on it." - Mallaidh - December 18, 2018
If asked, Mallaidh would say she hadn’t meant to kill. Eurycrates was crossing the distance, was aiming for Ephraim’s throat, and the boy would be dead. Perhaps she thought she could subdue or deter or shove away. She thinks of the wolf that pinned her down as a child, of Artaax and the black wolf.
If asked, she’d say she isn’t a killer.
But when teeth connect to flesh, julgar serrated by her teeth and the among of warm blood coating her throat, she knows there’s no help for him. If he’d kept focus on her, he might still be standing, but the switch had been flipped the moment he aimed for someone of hers.
He drops to the ground when she lets go, wet and red, eyes ablaze. All she hears is her heart pounding in her chest, harder and harder, thump thump thump thump
thump thump...
Seconds later she’s jostled by the commotion, by the child flinging herself into Blixen. There’s not a single thought left in her mind. She lunges through the other wolves with bloodied jaws, aiming to control the flailing child by the slim of her waist.
RE: "With it or on it." - Ephraim - December 18, 2018
He tasted blood on his lips but it wasn't from his own attack; Mallaidh slashed through Eurycrates' throat like tissue, raining the intruder's blood on both of them, while Ephraim's teeth struck the man's shoulder. He did little more than punch through the superficial skin with his incisors before he had to peel away and part from the wolf whose weight bore down suddenly as life left him. It happened much faster than Ephraim expected it to and he was left breathing hard and swallowing a sudden rush of bile. Fear clenched every muscle in his body and he abruptly felt like retching from the stench of blood bathing him. He fought with himself for control while he watched the others grapple with a reedy youth no older than he or Tux.
He didn't recognize her. She was just another enemy violating their claim and she was about to die just like her idiot commander had. And for right now, Ephraim couldn't watch it. He was still just a kid himself and this was more than he'd bargained for; all the foolish bravado and training in the world couldn't prepare anyone for watching another die in front of them. It would haunt him, and he didn't want some other kid's blood on his conscience right then.
The ringing in his ears began to fade and a sense of urgency rose in its place. He'd heard Heda's howl as well, but it hadn't occurred to his conscious mind until that moment. When Eurycrates was diving for him, his brain had filtered Antumbra's summons to a place where it wouldn't distract him in the moment, but now it seemed of utmost importance. Mallaidh and Blixen were more than capable of taking down Raleska, especially if Opalia stayed with them for back up, and he was Heda's second. She had summoned the whole pack back. She needed him more than they did. So with one last glance at his fighting comrades, Ephraim yipped out a warning and then turned and galloped away, utilizing all the speed he could muster through the racking pain of his injury to return to Hougeda by the lake.
RE: "With it or on it." - Opalia - December 19, 2018
Satisfaction rushed her when she did make contact, and in keeping true to these last several moments, everything happened far too fast to truly appreciate. With a jerk, she tried to bite--in earnest! Fierce, like the more experienced wolves, but she was unfamiliar enough here to not know what was really enough, and definitely not well-versed in the sensation of retaliation when it inevitably came to her with a wicked snarl.
Lessons in defense were a dim hum here; when she couldn't quite maneuver an angle to protect her face, neck, and all else all at once. In trying to twist her face away, she felt teeth slice up the side of her cheek anyway. Avoiding worse, and before she could rip her past her ears, she backpedaled enough to regain her bearings with a snarl all of her own before the pain set it.
Before she could return for more, too, Blixen swept in to grab the stranger by the neck and the shrieking pinned back her ears immediately--but it did not look good for the stranger to her after that, despite what injuries their own side totaled overall.
Opalia was still charged for her next pounce back, all ready, but Mallaidh joined the situation when the screaming turned towards more thrashing. She stood bristling and ready, although did not yet charge into the scene again immediately; her face was burning, everything was so much. The brute had fallen, evidently, and blood was everywhere with the shrieks of this other one seared into her mind. She didn't want to get in the way. They knew what they were doing.
In this relative pause, Ephraim got a wide-eyed look of some kind of confirmation when he took to his leave, and so did their snow-furred sentinel.. but until the remaining problem stopped making a ruckus, this wasn't over; she tried focusing on Blixen, Mallaidh, and their intruder, unsure of how to fit in besides be present in case it got worse.. and not sure what to do with the fact anymore, now that there's a dead enemy wolf right there, a girl still putting up a fight, and a scope even bigger and messier than this waiting for them all at the lakeside with Heda.
RE: "With it or on it." - Blixen - December 19, 2018
behind her, somewhere, the brute dies -- something blix won't realize until they're done here, and then, with only a pang of regret that both her brother and mallaidh now have gotten one up on her. right now, though, there is only the surprise of force against her as the other interloper lashes in a panic on the tail end of her bloodcurdling scream, and dimly, blixen thinks, she's gotta be young like her siblings. the frenzied effort to wrench free is not enough to completely throw her off, though she feels a sharp pain at her abused shoulder, her hold on the girl's neck twisting under their movements. it's like trying to keep hold of a particularly sharp and slippery rodent, she thinks, and shoves forward, hoping to more or less force the girl onto the ground and pin her down (and hoping mallaidh gets the memo) -- gritting her teeth through her desperate hits.
RE: "With it or on it." - Raleska - December 20, 2018
I am confused by the posting order - if it's not my turn just whack me
She fought with all she had (which, mercifully, was not much) as the wolves closed in. They piled in driving thrusts, and Raleska, having never fought for her life before, was quickly becoming overwhelmed.
Eurycrates' undoing was performed right before her eyes. If he had not been a living thing, a packmate she felt an innate bond for, she might have described his death as profanely artistic. His throat was ripped from him and the pure colors from that cataclysm were mindbending: the tender ivory of bone, the mauve gristle of throat, blood splattering in tints of otherworldly black, the red flare of it tinging the cream wolf's face a raw color of fury; the way he crumpled and gurgled and bled in a horrific spray of meat and matter. And then she watched as a blackness pooled about his stilled form, seeping softly into the earth's cold embrace.
All of it was processed in a second by Raleska's wide eyes, and she screamed again with hate and despair.
She was seized by the flank and hauled downward by the bloodspattered wolf, and in seconds was pinned under the jaws of the flame-licked specter that had wounded her neck. As she went down she snapped for anything at all - be it flesh or fur her barracuda teeth would find it. Struggling against the dirt, Raleska made a noise between sorrowful sobs and hateful snarls - her body reverberating as she defiantly met what she was sure would be her end.