Upon a quick dismissal, the shaman had motioned for the newly appointed pair to accompany him, with a muttered word to Sitri and to Mordecai to guard the gates of Ouroboros. Lunging through the foliage with a speed that denied his advanced age, the pale witch came to a halt upon the riverbank where Jinx had laid not long before.
She was dead, though he did not see her body. "She was murdered," he snarled to Cara, to Kaname, hot tears striking the ground that had grown cold. And yet a small part of him wondered if Jinx's death had been more merciful this way, if at last Sos had provided a dark savior to release her from the bondage of her wasting disease. "Oh, my love," Lecter hissed to himself. "I will find you."
Throwing back his bloodied muzzle, the shaman gave a sharp summons for the woman who had killed his sylph, demand and rancour filling the notes. With a glance to the young Alpha, he set off in pursuit of whatever trail he would find leading from the crime. If the bitch was not a coward, she would show herself.
But it had been three days, and the bitch had not answered his summons. Gathering Kaname and Cara to him yet again, Lecter paced to the site of his love's death and snarled, bristling, before giving yet another demanding howl for the one who had slain Jinx.
His fangs bared at the sound of the howl as the meeting ended. He growled as the message translated in his head. The Dread Queen is dead! The Dread Queen...Jinx. The tone was not at all sorrowful. It was full of pride and daring. Whoever howled was telling the pack that she had killed Jinx, and was taking her throne.
Lecter stiffened at the howl, then beckoned the new Alpha and the next Beta to follow him. Kaname trotted off, tension in his body. If he had to fight in order to defend Cara's claim, then so be it. He would do so with his dying breath.
Upon reaching the river, his lips peeled back in a Flehmen response, trying to locate and identify scents. Jinx's was particularly strong here, though her body was missing. Another female was here too, a loner most like. He paced the riverbank, searching for any trails. He paused, finding that Jinx's scent slipped into the river. "Her body must have washed away. Either she was pushed in after she died, or the bitch drowned her." He growled to Lecter, though it would most likely inflame the Beta more.
The old man gave a sharp summon to the woman who killed the former queen, if she was still in the area. He ran, looking for any trail of the murderer. Kaname kept his nose to the ground, searching for a fresher trail that would lead him to the killer.
Cara did not need to be told twice. When the horrid howl rippled through the air, disrrupting the meeting, the new ruler of the Spine felt her blood turn to ice. The Dread Queen. Is that what her precious idol had becomed? The yearlig had already mourned her leader's death, she had taken her last shriek as the last beat of her heart. That had been Jinx's spiritual death (according to Cara); now apparently she had also perished physically.
A broth of rage and impotence broiled in her stomach, she whipped her head to look at Lecter who gave a mournful cry as he tried to find the murderer's trail. Her Beta was also crying bloody murder, he said something that she didn't quite catch because her own growls were deafening to her ears. Whoever might've stopped the angel's (Jinx) heart would have to pay an unmeasurable price, for the culprit --who claimed to be a hero-- an abominable amount of pain and torture awaited.
She threw her head back and as Lecter howled for the executioner to show its face. "You'll regret it", she whispered softly, the words entwined with the fire that puffed from her nostrils.
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Ptarmigan occasionally had difficulty seeing danger in front of her face. A wiser wolf might have turned at the sharp call and left, but she was feeling confident, and wholly believed her claim was sound. To her left was the burly wolf for hire, Andrus, with his autumn coat and stern visage. To her right marched handsome Viggo, who earned an occasional sneaky glance from the Endore. To say she was surprised he'd supported her claim would have been an overstatement—she truly believed it was deserved and therefore unquestionable—but there was some appreciation there nonetheless, for both his beauty and his support.
They made good time, and found the search party in short order. It was led by a scraggly elder wolf with the most disgusting pelt she'd ever seen, exuding the rankest scent. She wrinkled her nose in distaste before they even came within sight of him. Behind him trailed two wolves, a dark-haired male and a light-haired female. All three of them looked livid, at least to Ptarmigan's eyes.
She swept in boldly, framed by her companions, and flung up her tail in a stark declaration to these pack wolves. She need not offer words to state her claim, for she thought it was solid, but she nevertheless supported herself, albeit inelegantly and perhaps with too much sarcasm:
I'm glad someone thought to roll out the red carpet for their saviours. You should be rewarded for welcoming us so promptly.
When they reached another trio of (admittedly stinky) wolves, Viggo took his stance at Ptarmigan's shoulder, his tail raised just below her own. As far as he was concerned, it was Andrus and he who ranked just below the Endore girl. They were the only ones who had voiced their loyalty thus far, so it seemed only natural that they should be rewarded for it.
The grizzly bear followed his new employer and her counterpart obediently, flat iron eyes ever watchful for shadows as they went. It would reflect very poorly on him indeed if he allowed either of them to be injured on the way to the real battle, thus there was not a chance Andrus was going to let it happen by letting his guard down. When the anguished howl sliced through the quiet, he in no way felt surprised. Ptarmigan's claim may be beyond doubt in hers and Viggo's eyes, but the mercenary was not so naive. He believed fully in her ability to lead, but he knew the battle for her right to lead had yet to even begin.
As they approached the summoners, Andrus raised his head and tail high enough to claim dominance from them, but not enough to take it from the black femme at his shoulder. His eyes narrowed slightly as his calculating stare swept across the competition. One yearling, a wolf near to their age and an old man--all three of them clearly the leadership of this pack that was now Ptarmigan's. It would seem that the trio had the upper hand against these pack wolves, for all three of them were older and more experienced than one of their lot and the same age as another. The last wolf though, old he may be, but Andrus sensed a power about him that he did not trust.
The swarthy woman spoke her piece to them--words that were dripping with her characteristic fearless arrogance. Andrus hardly heard her, so focused on his opponents was he. He had no doubt that Viggo was doing the same, for in the short time he had known the man he had come to know his devotion to the dark beauty. It was his loyalty would protect the woman today--that and Andrus's impeccable work-ethic.
edit: Fixed his age-assessment. Sorry, @Kaname that's what happens when I research five days before I actually post--the brain don't work like she used ta Xx;
He turned his attention to Cara, and to Kaname. This was not his conflict, his fight; this belonged to the new queen. However, Lecter would happily sacrifice herself upon the altar of an equal fight if the bitch brought her henchmen to heel.
The shaman turned his back, circling 'round to flank Cara. A confident chuff gave her unbridled access to the situation; he would not interfere, nor would he speak again, unless it was warranted. Training his cold glare upon the dark wench, the madman waited, tail flung proudly over the base of his spine.
His gaze went from cold to freezing in an instant as the usurper and her lackies arrived. He didn't growl, only keeping his gaze locked on the dark female that killed Jinx. The assassin silently cursed at the odds. They had favor, at least for now. Only he was about the same age as them. Cara was too young and Lecter too old. But they could fight. He had seen the old man take down a badger (though he did help) and he was confident that Cara would not back down from this, especially after this bitch killed her idol.
He flanked his new queen, more like princess, but he would never say that to her face, standing parallel to the dark tan male. Unbeknownest to them both, they once led similar lives. Kaname was born and raised an assassin-for-hire. Andrus, the tan male, was a mercenary, a warrior-for-hire. His ice-blue gaze fixed on the storm-gray of the russet male, examining him. He seemed like the most experienced in fighting of the three that challenged them. If he could keep him occupied, then there was a chance that Cara could actually win this fight.
The felons did not need to be tracked down, they appeared voluntarily in front of them. There were three of them, though Cara only had eyes for the one leading the delinquent gang; a bitch with an onyx coat draping her body and eyes of emerald. They walked like they owned the place --because in their stupid brains they did. Their logic --or lack of thereof --made every single hair along the girl's back stand on end, they had not only ended the life of her queen, but were disturbing what should've been the celebration of the new queen's arrival.
She flashed past Lecter, pressing her flank against him as she left him behind. She stood bravely at the very front, her unwavering loyalty to her reign filling every pore in her body. She would not permit for these vagabonds to get away with Jinx's murder. She'd gladly sentence them to the death penalty, an eye for an eye. That was the price in the Ouroboros.
We are not in disadvantage; she thought as she eyed the other guys closely.The years might've already claimed Lecter's frail body, but his spirit remained the same. Cara was certain he'd give his last drop of blood if it'd mean avenging Jinx's death. And Kaname. Well he was an assasin, and besides the moment he had been apointed Beta she had deposited every ounce of her trust in him.
If the frost queen thought their lordly entrance had been the worst of it she was mistaken. While they raised their ears and tail with hollow pride, Cara didn't budge-- as the legitimate ruler of the Ouroboros she held firmly her dominant and elegant stance. (really worth of a queen).The woman's senseless words, however, almost made the yearling lose her cool.
How dare she!
Rage and hatred sparked in her chest, the flames of the resulting fire licking her bones slowly. Her face was contorted into a frown when she spoke, her lip curled back exposing not only her pearly daggers but also her gums,"Oh darling", she spat with mocking tone. Tooth and nail were her predilect weapons, though sarcasm wasn't far behind. "We don't need to be saved.." she continued, sinking her own pale eyes into the emeral orbs of her opponent.
"Now, get the fuck out. she hissed while throwing her tail over her back in a dominant display, "Your life will be your reward.." she added with unreal sweetness. There was nothing but hatred in store for them. She held guns under her pale eyes, and she was ready to pull the trigger.
Bold.
That was the only way to describe the queen's actions.
The Ouroboros wolves replied in different ways—the crusty one called her a whore, while the female dribbled out sickeningly sweet sarcasm. The dark-haired male remained silent throughout the whole thing, though a quick glance at him revealed that it was possible he was too absorbed in sizing up Andrus. Viggo's tail brushed her own midair.
She didn't deign to return their sarcasm. She'd already said what she'd wanted to say, giving them the opportunity to submit to her claim. None of them did. The female made a demand, which Ptarmigan met with a firm,
no. It is my right.Without another word she stepped forward, thrusting out her chest and pricking her ears brazenly forward. Her slender snout dove down to cover her throat. She did not snarl or even draw her lips back, but rather, leveled a constant stare on the competing female, enough to fully state her intent to drive the other out of her rightful position. Her lips formed a thin line that was firmly held and very self-assured, telling them she had no intention of causing unnecessary harm in her scuffle for the crown, but would assert her absolute authority if she had to. It was a perfectly ritualized challenging stance.
Instead of doing as they should have done, the trio of others defied Ptarmigan's claim. Viggo tensed, but he did not move. This was not his fight, nor the fight of Andrus or the other two males on the other side. This was between the rightful heir and her challenger. Ptarmigan and Cara were both, depending on which side you happened to be standing on. The Ostrega kept himself level, calm, collected, and glanced to Andrus.
“This is their fight,” he said lowly so the others could not hear, “We need not attack the others unless they attack us.” There was no sense in involving themselves when the fight was not about them, but about the two opposing forces in front of them. But Viggo was interested in defense, and he would not allow himself to be forced to the ground just because this wasn't his fight. If they shot first, he would gladly do what he had to in order to make sure they understood his place as well.
Andrus did not sway his gaze from their opponents except to latch onto the dark furred wolf of their pack. In the same moment Kaname had chosen Andrus, Andrus had chosen him as the most threatening target. The man could tell that this other wolf was also experienced in this line of work, judging by the way he zeroed in on the greatest threat and marked him as his target. The great bear knew that if it came to a battle between all three of them, this was the one he would meet with tooth and claw.
Viggo's voice did not go unnoticed by him. The only response he gave was a very small nod. He did not trust these other wolves enough to turn his gaze from them for even a split second. He knew this fight belonged to Ptarmigan and the whelp who stood like an alpha. His intention was to keep the other two men from interfering if they broke ranks. If Ptarmigan could bring their alpha to heel, he had no doubt the others would fall in line. But if they decided to take the opportunity to make an attempt at her life, Andrus was ready and hungry for blood.
His own glare swung to the other male. In an outright conflict, the shaman was aware his frail body and thin frame would stand no chance, but he would fight all the same to defend Cara's claim to Ouroboros Spine. He had given her these lands, and despite the false claim of this bitch, Lecter would see her elevated truly before he died.
Silently, he waited.
His ears turned forward as he saw one of the wolves muttering something to the male he was glaring at. The pretty-boy spoke low, but Kaname could make out snatches of the man's words. ....their fight......not attack.... The assassin wanted to make his body relax, now that he had confirmation that the other wolves would not attack.
They had honor, sure. But they were still threat. He backed up slowly, but kept his gaze on both of the wolves, now examining the wolf who spoke. There was something strangely...familiar about this one. It was his eyes, definitely, but who was he similar to. Unable to figure it out, the assassin simply watched both of them for sudden and/or suspicious movements as Cara and the usurper began their fight.
Don't have respect or sense of humour, she though while eyeing the dark coloured female with a morbid mix of loathing and irritation. She felt an utter sense of despise while laying eyes on the femme, she had killed her hero therefore she was the villain. She wished to lunge at her but she kept her claws stuck to the dirt beneath her, she wouldn't sink her fangs on her yet --as tempting as it was-- she wanted to wound her with her words before any drop of blood was shed.
And no Ouroboros blood would be spilled in vain. She would not allow these mediocre bitch to come into her reign holding a false sense of authority and tainting her lands with her mere presence. No. She will be driven out; her and her brainless side-kicks who the yearling suspected to be nothing but muscle. Her wolves on the other hand while they might not have the bulk and size of the black woman's companion they had wits to spare.
A throathy snarl filled with disgust erupted from the queen's insides as the challenger demanded to have something that had never been meant to be hers. The dark female would never touch the crown. Not while the frost queen could speak against it.
Her right. There were no rigths here.
This was no democracy; Cara had recieved the Queen's blessing and had been granted the title of surpeme ruler by the the King himself too. This bitch hadn't done anything to deserve it. A fucking mouse could've been the one to see Jinx's last breath escape from her lips but that did not mean the pack would bow to such insignificant creature.
Besides in Cara's mind, Jinx had died long ago. Her spirit had perished the second she lost her identity. Ptarmigan had just laced the top bow, but she hadn't done anything. Nothing.
"Do you have a lawyer? I don't care about your rights.." she spat again, her words were coated with venom --almost as toxic as the taste they left in her mouth.
Viggo whispered to Andrus beside her, but the others were silent. It was a face-off, three wolves versus three wolves. The Ouroboros wolves had the disadvantage, if only because one of their three was an old male. She watched them all carefully, her brows furrowed in the middle and her eyes sharp as they passed over each wolf. Her companions had honour... Honour that she knew she herself wouldn't have in their positions.
Cara opened her mouth then, uttering a word Ptarmigan had never heard before and attaching it to nonchalance over the Endore's rightful claim. Had she been able to see through the yearling's thoughts in that moment, she would have thrown back the idea of democracy with malice as a reminder that leaders were not elected, but earned their spots by shedding the blood of those before them, but she could read no minds.
Instead, the headstrong Endore lunged then, snapping open her jaws and aiming to wedge the girl's snout between them. Cara was hardly more than a child, and Ptarmigan had every intention of putting her in her rightful place, which was beneath adults in their prime who had earned it the old way, such as her.
He had expected a bloody, snarling battle, but it seemed the jet bitch had no intentions of drawing crimson from opponent, though Cara did not subscribe to the same methods. Theirs was a dance of light and of darkness, bodies melding and striking, teeth flashing.
He tensed as Cara threw herself atop the usurper, icewater glare flickering briefly to the male wolves who stood by with the suspicion that one or both of them would rush with parted jaws to their leader's defense. Neither moved, however, and the shaman passed a tongue across his dry lips, shifting his weight.
In the end, to a chorus of snarls, it was not the pale yearling who emerged victorious, but his lover's murderer, and Lecter lifted his lips in disgust, though the bleeding punctures along Cara's muzzle drew an attentive eye. He said nothing, merely glanced between the young wolf who had almost retained the title of queen, and Kaname, and was quiet.
Their battle for the title of alpha was not as blood-soaken and raw as he thought it would be. Instead, both females focused on bringing the other down into submission, there was no real intent of killing. Blows were aimed at the muzzle, the scruff, the chest. Both were trying to push their opponent down and pin them from there. The assassin silently growled, disapproving. If he was in this position, he would aim to kill. It would show off the strength he had and the lack of tolerance he had for usurpers.
But, he was not fighting in this battle, nor was it his battle to fight. It was up to Cara and the black usurper. And in the end, the black bitch won.
It was a close fight, but the usurper had the upper paw. She was older, stronger. But, the moment he saw Cara's wounds his cold blue eyes froze into shards of blue ice. At that moment he wanted to attack the smug woman. Sure she can kill a sick, mad woman and beat up a yearling, but could she fight a man that was her equal?! The assassin thought angrily. He kept still and quiet, despite the maddening urge to attack his new alpha.
The spectators fell silent as the two females circled each other with their lips curled back and their fur bristled. Cara felt the pressured by the pairs of eyes that watched closely every step of their menacing dance, Ptarmigan was quick as her and her blows were more strategically placed, but over the beggining of the match the black bitch had the upper hand.
Then the dreadful thought of having failed her precious idol caused the yearling to raise her game. Despite she was feeling tired and her bruised ribs and scratched flanks burned every time she breathed she unleashed the inner demon she had been holding for so long. A demon that had been born the day her father day, and over the months had fed on the hatred and egocentric manners of the young girl.
The usurper did not longer hold advantage over the young Queen, she lunged and snapped at her like there was no tomorrow --because perhaps for one of them there wouldn't be. Teeth and claws collided against each other and the pale girl felt the tangy flavor of blood at the corner of her mouth.
After what seemed like an eternity, both females stared at each other, both exhasuted and bleeding. She didn't dare to look at her packmates but she could feel their gaze resting on her, they were silently rooting for the newly appointed Queen to prove her worth. But..what if she couldn't?
The thought of failing Jinx and the Ouroboros was suffocating, she panted frantically and looked growled at her opponent ; it was then that the battered up bitch launched her final attack, Cara braced herself to face her but only so much could be done. Her energy had alredy run out and the muscles in her body didn't respond to her urging command..
She found herself under the female in a matter of seconds,her body imposing dominance over Cara. She flailed for a second but then with a painful sigh she gave in. Her heart shattered as she saw the triumphant glint in her enemy's eyes. Her legacy as the Alpha of the Ouroboros had been cut short.
A tear of filled with heatred and disappointment was suppressed by the yearling there was no time to cry now. The battle had been lost and now she had to face whatever fate the odious bitch standing over her had in store for her. Whether it'd be death or exile was yet unkown.
Her physical injuries would heal but there was nothing that could mend her broken ego or her strangled heart.
Her pride and her crown had been snatched away.
"kill me or let me go", she whispered only for Ptarmigan to hear, she understood that as the winner Ptarmigan had the ability to toy with her now, but she wasn't about to settle with being her doll. Her pale eyes flickered back and forth as she awaited for an answer, while a fine thread of crimsom trickled down the bridge of her nose and into the dirt.
Both bitches tried hard to take down the other. While Ptarmigan's attacks were largely battering rather than cutting, she was unable to avoid raking her teeth across the other female's snout at some point, though she managed to avoid drawing much blood. Cara fought much more viciously, slicing into Ptarmigan's flesh every chance she got and sending the Endore's body screaming for relief.
Yet in the end, the yearling fell, and the Endore slowly sank to her haunches. Exhaustion was creeping over her, and the veil of violence falling away. Her wounds slowly oozed blood into her dark coat, and would need to be cleaned. She glanced to Andrus and Viggo, then at the defending party, and the corners of her lips curled into a smirk.
As though to rub in this victory over the Spine's chosen champion, Ptarmigan lifted her head and cried into the air, declaring her sovereignty over this land and its inhabitants. When Cara muttered a request, the bleeding female turned her burning eyes upon the unseated queen and said, “go.” There was no use in killing her. Ptarmigan was not that shameful.
She turned to Viggo and Andrus then, silently requesting their aid in finding somewhere away from their three interceptors to rest and clean her wounds.
Viggo watched intently as the two ladies went at each other. He feared for a moment that his leader would falter, but she reigned supreme in the end. A sigh of relief came from him when she finally asserted herself over the writhing white bitch, and Viggo relaxed. There was no doubt that Ptarmigan was the winner, although she had taken more damage than her younger rival. He flashed a glance to those who stood on the other side, but made no move toward them.
Only when the rightful queen turned to him did he advance, and he only moved toward her. She was hurt, rather badly, and he was already eager to help her rest and recover from the battle. With an affectionate nudge to her shoulder, Viggo came to her side and began to escort her away from the battle scene.
As the battle came to a close, Andrus turned his full attention back to the men at their defeated leader's sides. They were both clearly agitated, and also yet unpredictable. If the pale whelp fell, would they rise to her defense and win this battle for her? Or if Ptarmigan was the one to fail, how quickly would they be lunging in to help the young bitch finish her? Fortunately, the two older men made the wisest choice and stayed back as Cara succumbed to the black wolf's power.
Andrus growled his approval of the transaction, finally moving only at Ptarmigan's summons. It was Viggo who stepped up to help the woman leave, and Andrus who stood behind dominantly staring at the remaining three to make sure they would keep themselves in line until his employer was safely away. Finally satisfied as none made a move and Ptarmigan had passed, he gave the Spine wolves one last empty stare before turning and following the only leaders in this pack that he had any intention of recognizing.