Dragoncrest Cliffs The Rules of Fight Club

@Njord 

Food in cold weather always improves one's spirits and, though Merlin felt a tad bit guilty for not sharing his meager meal of few stranded fish on the shores with his buddy in crime, he found consolation in thinking that he would not feel the least bit offended, if Njord did the same. He headed now towards the borders, where he patrolled too, when he was not cooped up with headaches, and thought that the time had finally come for them two to start training and making plans on, how to deal with the jerk from the mountains. 

He found some older tracks of his friend, but the recent snowfall had hidden the rest. And since the ground border of Sappique was too long for Merlin to run there and back again, wasting time looking, he tipped his head back and howled for Njord to come, if it was convenient. And if inconvenient, come all the same.

Njord’s spirits lifted when he heard Merlin’s call. The past few days had been nothing but melancholy for the islander. Sapphique seemed to be under a constant grey cloud and struggled to recover from the recent loss of their Rosada, plus the missing Regin. Thankfully the addition of Haunt (and soon, her brother) would breath new, and much needed, life into the pack. Grief was much more tolerable when you could share burdens and sorrows between many.

Njord found himself retreating into his own mind more and more. Once a lackadaisical wolf, Njord now felt edgy and anxious. The great snow storms worried him. He feared for the health and safety of the pack… especially the young ones: Chacal, Arcelia, and Valravn. This was their first winter, and it was a season unlike any seen before. Thankfully, he was almost completely healed from the wounds inflicted by Shardik and could move freely without pain.

He followed the call close to the borders until he saw Merlin’s vibrant copper pelage among the snowy hills and conifers. “Ahoy, Merlin!” he called out, feeling a rush of seratonin to his brain.

"Ahoy, Salty Seabiscuit!" Merlin returned and dashed over to Njord to greet him enthusiastically. Since he was in part oblivious to, how men were supposed to behave (or what society expected them to), he was unashamed in his joy, tail wagging and series of play-bows, before he settled down. 

"Now that you have all limbs in working order, we have to work on a plan to avenge you," he told him his intentions. "That crap dog is still walking around loose and unless you have changed your mind, we have to make sure that he feels just as much pain as you did after your date with Valmua," Merlin said.

"I was talking with Coon the other day - she suggested ripping that guy's balls off," he told, locking his gaze with Njord's to see, what he thought about it. He did not clarify the context, where he had drawn the idea from. "But that means we need more than just two of us. If the man is big, I won't be able to hold him down long enough - you see, what kind of scrawny ass I am," he chuckled.

Ahoy, Salty Seabiscuit, his pal crowed. Njord joined him for a few fleeting moments of play posturing, down-dogging, and stomping the ground with his wide paws. The action warmed his bones and his heart. It was nice to feel so good after such a long stint of listlessness.

Merlin laid out his plan of revenge: team up on @Kigipigak, curb stomp him into oblivion, and then win @Valmúaa back by flexing. Njord should have been excited by his friend’s scheme, but he found himself oddly blocked by feelings of inadequacy. Of guilt. Of shame. He chuckled in response, but it was only a half-hearted effort. He had not been able to best Kigipigak, stop Shardik from striking down Kaertok and Raleska, or prevent Rosencrantz’s death. To chase Kigipigak, now, felt like a doomed pursuit… and to add to the pile, he could not defeat his rival with his own strength. He required Merlin’s help.

Njord swayed a bit, clearly wavering, as his gaze broke from Merlin’s. He hated feeling this way: deficient in confidence. “Ah, Mer… I dunno,” he waffled. “Tha pack needs us. We can’t be throwin’ ourselves at Kigipigak’s teeth. Besides…I’m not sure I’d win Valmúa’s hear’ by gangin’ up on ‘im.” Though Njord’s tail was still fiery red as ever, it was clear the fight in him had been tempered.

"I am not saying we gang upon him right this very moment," Merlin defended himself, having not expected Njord to act all mature and grown-uppy to his somewhat humorous suggestion. Didn't he see the mental image of, how cool it would be? "But that's one of the goals we can keep in mind, while we train to be strong and awesome," he shot his friend a sheepish grin. Admittedly - the idea of training with his pal seemed more tempting than the destination they were heading towards.

"And Coon said that had she been in Valmua's place and her brother had done something like this to her date, she would have ripped off his balls personally," he said, trying to make the argument valid. "Did she even step in to stop him? Has she coome by to apologize?" he asked. It was not that he wanted to make a demon out of the woman, but, if she had not done anything to save Njord's skin, then did she deserve him at all?

So sorry for my very belated reply!! My anti-muse has been killin’ me!

Merlin was successful in reassuring his friend. Njord cracked a smile when he realized how he sounded like a wet blanket. However, his intention was genuine and the responsibility of being a provider to Sapphique during these difficult times remained. Train to be strong and awesome. Yeah, that was more like it!

“Aye, you’re right as rain, Merlin!” he cheered, buffeting his shoulder against his pal’s. Though, perhaps a pre-winter Njord would have been a tad more enthusiastic. Merlin inquired into the specifics of his fight with Kigipigak… something Njord had been trying very desperately to package away.

“Valmua did try ta stop Kigipigak,” Njord explained with a shrug of his shoulders, “but Kigi managed to swat ‘er off like a fly.” Despite this, Valmua hadn’t sought Njord out at all. He was hurt by this. “She never came 'round lookin’ fer me,” he admitted, lips hardened. It was difficult to talk about. Maybe Valmua had been shamed by his defeat. That was an idea he had never entertained before.

“Who’s this Coon, anway?” Njord interjected. “Yer girlfriend?” he hissed with a sly, impish grin.

"Nope," Merlin shook his head. "She's some chick that stalked and tried to attack me from behind one day. Did not manage to do so. I don't recall her full name, but I christened her Coon Assbite. I earned an Ass nickname too that I do not remember," Merlin shrugged. That was end to the story. Little did he know that in few days time that said lass would join Sappique's ranks. 

"Don't waste tears over her then - she's not worth it," he told his friend, though he had an inkling that this experience was not that easy to put behind and move on. He was about to offer Njord to forget her for him - he had plenty of leaky memory to do so - but that would make no sense to his friend. Just solidify belief that everything was not right in his bestie's coconut.

"So, you want to spar, perhaps?" he suggested. "For the pack's safety," he added quickly, though he did not entirely shelf the idea of de-balling that Pig guy out there at some point. With or without Njord's assistance.

Njord hiccupped a laugh at the legend of Coon Assbite. She sounded like quite the character. Then, Merlin dismissed Valmua and encouraged Njord not to spend his energy on her. “Aye…” Njord agreed, lying.

The change of subject was a welcome distraction. Njord readied himself, thoughts drifting to Rosencrantz.  The archangel’s first training session had been quite challenging. “Avast, Mer! Ya bes’ be carful, else I’ll gut ya,” he said with a wink and good humor, excited to better his piss poor fighting skills.

He felt the snow beneath his toes as his attention became more attune to the motion of his friend, ready to parry an incoming attack.

I will skip over the actual spar, because I am no good at writing those. :D Last one from me - you can fade it in your next post and we can have a new one.

One hell of an exercise later Merlin laid down on the ground to catch his breath and straighten out some ruffled hair. Njord had been a worthy opponent, his style different than that of Haunt's and he had had difficult time keeping up and not being the only one to eat some dirt during the process. But he had had his moments of glory too - short-lived, perhaps, but for a beginner mercenary that was perfectly okay. 

He was about to tell that with a training like this twice, maybe thrice daily they would be able to take that bully in no time, but then he remembered that Njord no longer wished to punch some holes in that jerk's coat, which meant that they would have to find another target eventually. "This training makes me hungry - a hunt?" he suggested, getting to his feet and hoping that he would have just enough energy to pin a mouse or two. Chasing a hare was out of a question, unless he wanted to faint from lung-collapse.

Slowest reply ever!!

Njord collapsed onto the ground besides Merlin, every fiber drained of strength from their spar. Tomorrow, his muscles would feel the full brunt of this workout, leaving Njord bedridden. Never skip leg day.

His stomach growled right on cue when Merlin mentioned lunch. “Aye, that’s a bonnie idea!” Njord replied as he managed to find his feet. “I’m starved!” The two would then manage to track down some wintering voles to fill their bellies and aid in their recovery.