The Sunspire iiii. i've been broken

@Llyr so I know you were gonna post something for them today but I was just too amped for this plot, sorry! (And I hope you're okay with being pulled into it) @Vengeance slight PP of him having already injured her, I can edit though if need be :)

A blip she would have seemed to passerby, a shadowed wraith flitting by - gone before your periphereals could process what'd been seen. But there was no passerby, no help to be found. 

Her lungs screamed, her breath harsh as it tore through her chest with each forceful expand. Her limbs quivered, burned, threatening collapse at any second. She was losing speed, losing this race and to falter meant death. 

The fallen heiress dared not look back for fear that he would be at her heels, slavering yellow jaws reaching open-wide and terrible to close around her ankle. She need not; she could feel him behind her somewhere - a demon twice, thrice, her size, a beast disguised in wolf flesh. 

Loose stone slid underfoot, paws scrabbling as new terror lanced through her body electrifyingly - Rhælla launched from the gravel-strewn earth with a sound that was half sob, half snarl. 

I did not survive Lucavon to die like this. 

It was this that gave her a second wind, forcing through the pain as her wearied legs tore into the soil, knowing he had to be tiring as well. 

Her ear flopped sickeningly with each stride, half torn off and gushing crimson onto the constellations of her nape. It was enough to roil her stomach but such a luxury as vomiting would have to wait; only one thought prevailed above all else: escape.

It screamed from the marrow of her bones, the roots of her teeth, the pit of her very being: run, escape, survive. 

A last effort was expended as she flew on weakening wings: a breathy howl of panic, half-screamed.

blink and you will miss her.

she was a fleeting shadow, a blur through the grasses. were it not for llyr’s observant nature she would’ve flew past him without his knowledge. the day was uneventful and at that point the crowborn welcomed life’s unpredictability. and life surely provided him with some excitement.

she flew towards him like a bat out of hell. there was nothing pursuing her from what he saw and yet she seemed to be running for her life. llyr kept an eye on her even after she sped past, both amused and concerned.

it was not long before the girl tripped over herself. llyr ran towards her without much of a thought. he was curious to know what happened to her. old habits and all that.

as he neared her, llyr took one last look at the surroundings. there was not a soul on these mountains other than the two of them. what ails you? he asks.

Start she would as the white spirit materialized to her side, skidding to a halt and dark crown tipping back, back, back to find him with a wildened lilac orb - there you are. 

There was no shame to the way she pressed into his shadow, only desperation, trembling, peering over the apex of his snow-capped shoulder for sign of the beast. "Please, ser," she rasped, whispered fervently (though he could not have been much older than she, what else could he be but a white knight come to her aid?), "he will kill me." Hurt me, in the worst of ways, were the words she could not utter - remaining eye sheened with terror and beseeching him with the petrification she could not word.

Press closer against his side she did, ashiver with horror - vaguely nervous her nearness would offend but unable to draw away.

OMG I THOUGHT I POSTED IN THIS LIKE DAYS AGO, IM SO SORRY!!!

Love it when they ran. Hated it when they ran. For one such as himself, speed was not something that he was blessed with. Ruthless, unrelenting strength, and endurance, that was his forte. As she ran, he followed. At a slower pace, shoulders rolling under the earthen cloak. Steadily he caught up to her, in due time she would tire as he followed... Unlike most he found out here, she was a loner. He didn't have to worry about a pack just a howl away. She was alone.

Soon enough his bloodthirsty gaze fell upon her once again, the deep night pelt that shimered like the stars - and another. A male dressed in white. Forcing air through his nostrils, he was less than pleased... but even if it came down to a fight - he didn't think she would be a problem. Perhaps too afraid to assist the strange male in fending off her attacker. 

Standing at a short distance away, he stopped his journey toward his prey.. the woman, and waited. Tail flickering behind him every so often as it breathed life into his still form. What was this male going to do with a damsel in distress. Was she worth his time to save? His efforts, his flesh. If Vengeance was lucky he would turn a blind eye to the situation and go on his merry way, forget all he saw, ignore all that he may hear transpire in the distance... as Vengeance practiced his desires upon the female.

never before had he seen so much fear in one soul. she curled into him as if they had known eachother for eons. it wasn’t a move he was fond of, as shown by his dumbfounded expression, but he didn’t push her away after she pleaded. he will kill me. this caused llyr to tense in a defensive manner. where was this man she spoke of? 

he arrived just as the crowborn turned his back. he was a beast of a man, as large if not larger than llyr himself. if they were to engage in combat now it would surely be a challenge. was it worth it? he glanced and the speckled form behind him. she seemed to be in no shape to defend herself, so the task fell on him. he couldn’t just leave her here.

llyr faced the male once again, glaring, growling. the message was clear: leave now.

There's displeasure in his wintergaze, in the shocked curl of his lip, for which the wounded wisp feels a curl of guilt, a shrinking flower of embarrassment wilting within her chest for the way she begs so. Yet, she has not the strength to withdraw even a step from his side, held as she is by fear. 

Rhælla barely manages to keep herself from hunkering against the earth as the black shape looms on the horizon - as silent as his initial attack, falling upon her from the trees as she foraged. She's not quite touching the white crow (though she has definitely invaded his space), their pelts just brush, but the Seelie is practically hidden - peering over his pallid bulk only for her eye to dart away as it met bloodened ruby. 

A threat tears from the knight's throat, sonerous in volume, lifting the girl's anxious gaze back to her tormentor - waiting with bated breath to see what he would do. 

Warrior, take the rage from his heart, make him cowardly, make him flee, she begged the patron inwardly.

With a taste for blood already, Vengeance had his eyes set on the female. Despite her white knight's warning, Vengeance approached, pace quickened as he grew more and excited, quickly closing the space between himself and the paladin, body stiff until finally - a fight was inevitable.

Maw ajar, he aimed right for the male's face, with no real goal in his action he was hoping to grab onto anything and rip and tear any pieces he could. A wide stance gave him a lower center of gravity so he may attempt to push against his foe in a battle of pure strength. He didn't believe the female would help out her knight, in fact, he expected her to cower behind him. Wait for the battle to end; wait for Vengeance to finish his work on her. 

But this time he was mistaken. Soon his day would change for the worse - he was just not prepared for such a shift in mood.

not entirely sure what y'all had in mind for the fight but just let me know if this needs to be edited.

Her prayers go unanswered. 

The reaper charges, wordlessly, soundlessly like the monster of a child's nightmare - jaws gaping wide as he lunges for the northerner's pale face. Rhælla is nearly transfixed, frozen as he seems to fall and fall and fall towards them. 

The ivory bear collides with him, both males tangling and snapping - a violent yin and yang. The sight of yellow-slathered fangs tearing, piercing for purchase against her saviour, the scent of blood in the humid air, wakes her from her fearful revelrie. 

The nightwisp lowers further, slinking like a nightcat - racing to the aid of her protector. She rears back on her hindlegs, foreleg sweeping through the air to slash her claws over his face.

With Cerberxs taking a break I think we can close this thread after our last posts :P we already rolled for the winners, and with two wolves vs Venge, it just makes sense that he'd leave! Sorry Cerb, I'll PP Llyr a little here, let me know if I need to edit it!

A clash of tooth and claw blurred his vision as he only had taste for one thing on the mind - blood, and lots of it. He hungered for something more, and the fight would only make it that much more sweeter to get at once the male was out of the way. 

He could feel the teeth along his neck and shoulder as he himself dug himself onto the male's chest, pushing and clawing at the ground to push him over and out of his damn way to the woman, chewing with every bite, pushing through until --

Claws raked along his muzzle as the female entered the fray. Something he had not forseen. Two against one. With the male's size, ability thus far, and with the woman helping him, Vengeance knew better than to sacrifice his own life for the sake of just a temporary thrill of the flesh. The moment he had the opportunity, he broke contact with the fight, backing off. Shotting a glare at the two opposing hued couple before walking off at a faster pace than what he had entered in.

Bleeding wounds, gaping and more severe than he could feel - he would heal and fight another day for some sinful pleasures.

Her aim was true, her paw struck a fierce blow to his temple - enough that he seemed to determine the duo too much trouble. He slunk away, ochre glare shooting venom towards the pair. 

Rhælla fell back with the pallid male, retreating hastily to the treeline at his side - shoulder pressed against his, if it came to be that he required assistance.