Ankyra Sound While you're feelin' proud, why don't you help me?

Spontaneous sex with strangers shouldn't have been so uplifting, so freeing, but it had been. Firefly had not forgotten about the world of hurt he'd left in the Sound; when he returned he did it with a bounce to his step, carrying a myriad of female scents that he didn't bother to wash away. The first thing he wanted to do was check on Caiaphas --- no, scratch that, he wanted to find @Illidan and catch up with the boy. Perhaps flaunt his superior skills with the ladies? Even if it was an inappropriate subject at this moment (since the guy's mom was probably laying on her death bed, yike) he was in too good a mood to help himself.

As soon as he crossed the threshold in to Rusalka he smelled blood. It wasn't his body that smelled like that anymore - that had been cleansed from him prior to the glorious release he'd been craving, over by a random lake. The streak of blood trailed off along the rocks leading down to the beach and he recalled dropping Caiaphas' body somewhere along that ridge. Had she really been pouring that much blood from her body? He frowned, finding that the sight dampened his good mood, and set about cleaning it up. The dragedans knew where they lived but it didn't mean he'd have to welcome them with a blood-red-carpet when they made their inevitable counter-attack.

His mind wandered as he scratched away the dry blood. He thought of that frenzied moment where the two wolves were fighting, the pressure of the pale body pressing down across him - taking all that power away from him - the sound of the ghost's voice as it taunted him with flirtations, and -- shit, was he getting ---- Firefly paused in his work and took a few deep breaths, telling himself he was still feeling the effects of the last tryst, that was all. He forced the thoughts of the dragedans out of his mind as he finished up clearing the rocks of the bloody trail, and began climbing down to the beach.

Though the blood was cleansed now from the land, it had not been erased prior to the boy taking notice. Several scents were mixed together within it but, the most prominent was Caiaphas. The second he’d realised that there was an unimaginably high chance that the blood belonged to her, his mind went to work creating the worst of scenarios. Could she be dead? His thoughts, falling far from the course of logic, made it out to be so; in the back of his mind, he knew that the entirety of the pack would have been notified if she’d passed but, having slipped into panic mode, he could listen to no reason, not even from himself. This downward spiral of madness was egged on by the scents of others, as one stood out with a trace of familiarity: the scent that had previously clung to the older woman during his last meeting with her, the scent of the male that had stolen her glory.

He was the cause of this, undoubtedly.

Aningan sought the male out, only to find that he was not present; his trail was faint, leading out of the sound. Ultimately, he had no other choice but to loop back around to his point of origin and, instead, search for Caiaphas—except, as he neared the location, he found the blood to be missing and the stench of the man prevalent. Scrunching up his nose, the boy’s head dipped closer to the ground as he began tracking, ensuring that every step he took was towards the assumed murderer of his friend.

When a form became visible, it took every ounce of willpower that he had to not charge the other male. Rather, he shouted, “UkuKsi!” and stalked forward, fur bristled all along his back. At the same time, his brain continued to fuel his anger, insisting that the siren had perished and that the usurper before him, the man that had returned to the scene of the crime, was solely to blame.

He'd made it partway down the incline when the sound of thunderous steps caught in his ears, and he had to throw himself partway down the ridge to reach the bottom in time. Thinking there was something terribly wrong with Caiaphas - that maybe the worst had happened, and his efforts to keep her alive had amounted to nothing - Firefly crashed through the sand and staggered to his feet just as an agitated wolf came racing for him. They were snarling and bristling, which instantly made him re-evaluate; if this was about Caiaphas then maybe it wasn't that she'd died but rather, been hurt in the first place. Firefly might've anticipated this from one of the woman's children, but not --- wait, who was this?

This was someone Firefly hadn't met yet, not properly; a cream-colored individual who looked to be around the same age as Raleska, but not resembling the girl in any way he could discern in the time it took to look them over. He surmised that this wasn't one of her kids but it might've been someone just as close to her. It didn't really matter.

The fuck is your issue, kid? He called out in response to gibberish, and the stranger halted before him, poised with animosity vivifying their every inch. Firefly countered their posturing with his own, lifting his head and tail defiantly against the onslaught of (what he percieved to be) judgement and loathing — Get out of my way, now.

Rolled: 2 — Hits: 0/5

Ranks and all associated with them flew right out the window. Aningan did not see a leader before him, nor even a regular wolf of higher stature. All he saw was what he believed to be a killer standing right in front of him, all alone. At any other point in time, the northerner would have assessed the situation and quickly determined that the effort put into a fight would be better spent elsewhere. But that sort of thinking was not something he was currently capable of—not even the words were fully heard (or perhaps they weren’t even understood), drowned out by the beating of his own heart.

The order fell on deaf ears, too, and seconds later he’d actually sprung towards the man instead. With his mouth agape, he aimed right for the face (though he totally overshot and really only had an ear to choose from).

Rolled: 6 — Hits: 1/5

Rather than doing the smart thing and backing down, the foolish wolf dove straight at his face; Firefly swept himself to one side in order to dodge, and was partially successful. He heard the click of teeth beside his good ear and felt a pinch as teeth grazed across the flesh, which told him this wasn't just a posturing thing - this kid meant business. So he did what came naturally and countered, diving in close and trying to shove Aningan in the ribs so that he'd either be winded or be knocked off-balance. The sooner he could overpower this guy, the better.

Rolled: 5 — Hits: 1/5

Anyone of sound mind would, obviously, expect a counterattack.

Had Aningan? Nah.

Surprised by the sudden pressure against his ribs, he let out a sharp yipe—which died out soon after, his voice flying south as he struggled to catch his breath; though he was not quite rendered unbalanced, he was considerably distracted. An aching sensation began to spread along the point of impact but, for now, he could not concern himself with that. Not wanting to waste any more time than what was necessary, he once again lunged for the other male—but he’d not even taken the necessary time to recover and catch his breath, leaving him without the ability to inhale properly. As a result, his lunge soon fizzled out into nothing, lacking the support of his own body, which was far too preoccupied with relearning to breathe.

Roll: 4 — Hits: 1/5

The kid had spunk, he'd admit to that. Maybe once things settled down and were straightened out (and provided they could affort th luxury --) Firefly might seek him out for proper training; Rusalka could use more warriors and even if the kid struggled now, he was gifted with some obvious potential. That potential wasn't enough to keep up with the reigning Alpha, though. Firefly watched the boy struggle for breath and witnessed another attempted assault, but this wasn't successful either. He countered by reaching out and grabbing Aningan by the hock — a snatch and grab, which would've made Caiaphas proud since it was her own tactic — and waited for the fallout.

Rolled: 4 — Hits: 2/5

As he struggled to figure out exactly where he’d gone wrong with his attack, the male saw an opportunity and took it—and, suddenly, Aningan felt pressure distributed around his hock. Before he could stop himself, he was on the ground, the three free limbs having not received the oh, shit, wait! message from his brain quickly enough to save him from the splat effect. But, from the ground, he took the opportunity to rabbit-kick out with his other hind limb, aiming right for his opponent’s snoot.

The moment Aningan was free of his grip, the boy took off with a sudden burst of adrenaline and a deepening need to take the flight route; he fled the scene, saddened by his inability to reclaim the throne for the woman, but knowing that he could not so easily take down a wolf so much larger than himself.