Rising Sun Valley sometimes, quiet is violent

somewhere in Rising Sun Valley, noon. @Embry

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she had travelled away for a time, after the failure of the poison. the truth of the matter was, she was almost becoming bored. there was no tension within the pack with which to exploit its members. no strife. not so much as a single act of cruelty had she seen. they were a bunch of happy-go-lucky fools happy to live in a strife-free world. what fun was life, without conflict and adventure and growth and challenge?

never the less, her plans were still vague. exploit them, for a time, and then- she knew not. she a sigh, she settled down beneath the shade of a budding poplar. somewhere south was she, though she knew not exactly where. with the stillness and quiet alertness of a feline did she sit, simply watching the land for a time. 

Are we going to do a dice roll for this??

 Embry spotted the female from yards away, morphed into a tawny copse of foliage. Sea-green gaze narrowed at the visitor, a new sight to the particularly lonesome expanse. His ear swiveled, alert, towards the stranger, nose quivering subconciously as he watched. His muscular jaw was tense with apprehension. The pensive male rose from his lackadaisical position on the ground, grunting heftily as gravity heaved at his shoulders. He did not feel any immense threat from the female, but it was hard to ignore her presence. Prickles of irritation ran along his spine, golden fur spiking along the nape of his neck and tail.

     "Looking for something?" His voice was unusually gruff, a throaty noise in the ambience of noon. He was growing tired of this entire situation, and found her an aching nuisance to his usual downtime with every passing second. Not only that, but he had prey to be hunting - prey that this young lady would no doubt be killing. "Why don't you take some advice, mon cheri?" His lips peeled back in a dark, resonant snarl. Sea-green orbs glittered with malice; keen with contempt. He was looking forward to a nice, quick conclusion. "Beat it."

why don't we play it out Icly until they fight, and then decide? Circe is not the best fighter, so she'd be liable to loose if we did it Icly-though I would be okay with a dice roll!

for no apparent reason, somelackluster male stomped into her vision. making no move to stand, she watched him with a raised brow, wondering what exactly he had come here for. he seemed to be rather in a bad mood, or perhaps it was simply a part of a rather dense personality. she waited patiently for him to finish his little threatening rant, and drew her brows together, as if mildly concerned. "hmm"

she was silent for a time, then without hesitation slipped into a smooth purr as she looked to the male with the slightest tilt of her muzzle. " While we're in the process of giving advice, mon cheri, why don't you shuffle on back to whatever hole you crawled out off, and shove the nearest object up your ass." the words were delivered casually, absently, with no hint of challenge nor anger, merely coolness. the waif watched him, wondering if his litte charade was merely a bluff, or if he planned on a rebuttal. 

Okie doke, let the fight begin then!

     Embry cocked his ears, tail halting mid-stride in clear vexation. His sea-green orbs hardened, discs of smoldering ebony in the ebbing daylight. Surprisingly enough, it wasn't hatred that glittered within his gaze. It was a malicious, uncanny mirth. "That wasn't advice." He felt his negligence breaking, slowly and without preamble; deteriorating like mounds of sand beneath waves. A smile played at his lips, thin and cruel. 

     "That was an order." His words were low and distinct; eerily lucid. Who was this little female, thinking she could just chirp whatever she wanted to the wind? It was honestly rather entertaining to observe. Amazingly enough, he was straying far beyond the constraints of his orthodox character. Life away from interactions such as these had left a sore spot in need of a little... attention.

     "But on the subject of asses, I do believe I've found one." With that, the brute lunged forward, aureate coat flashing. His muscular length bridged the gap in mere seconds, sights targeted primarily upon his newfound prey. The momentum sent him barreling into the female, tackling with as much force as physically permitted. Disoriented, the two tumbled until he managed to grapple the earth beneath, skidding to a halt with heavy pants. His teeth had found little in the way of flesh, but he hoped the message was clear: the fight had begun.

oh, of course it was an order, wasn't it? she merely did not like taking them. at his words, she moved to stand with languid elegance, knowing very well that this situation would not likely end without physical confrontation. his gaze glinted with mirth, as if sharing nought more than a joke, and her expression echoed his. his voice rumbled out once more, delivering a final insult, before the brute gathered himself and leapt. 

she was not unprepared, knowing that she could not muster the same raw power as he, she sought a different tactic than to ram into him. as soon as he set into motion, moving low and darting as an adder might as opposed to his charge, her fangs sought grip on a limb- for should she weaken him earlier on, perhaps she would leave this encounter with minimal injuries. 

he thudded into her then, and the impact sent pain rippling through her shoulder and side. yet she did not abort her quest to gaingrip on a limb that was hurtling toward her, and deal as much damage as she could, should her fangs find flesh. 

Embry rolled backwards, struggling to absorb the impact. His claws slid precariously as he moved, muscles tensing at the sudden addition to gravity. When he felt her teeth meet his flesh, he made a wild dance to the side, large paws taking flight with as much agility as possible for the brute. He couldn't manage much more than to retreat before he felt the blood, scarlet and inky in the sullen light, trickling down his shoulder. Curses. 

     Adrenaline pushed him onward, so that even as he moved the pain was just a supporting element. This had become a slow, undulating game of wit and bravado, and he had yet to let it harness him. Rage fumed from his gaze, lips parted in a deepened snarl, as he lunged forward yet again to meet the fae before him. He shifted the weight from his hind legs to provide a more accurate position as he closed in, forepaws primed for the tackle.

     He landed as square as possible on her side, barrelling once again with just as much brio as before. She was a tricky little pest beneath him, but he figured the best way to pin a fly was simply to tack its wings. That's exactly what he intended to do. His momentum was aimed directly for her lungs and forelegs, where perhaps a broken bone or two could occur. This was hardly any time for mercy, despite the recent cold snap that had rendered him to this instability.