Noctisardor Bypass riskieron

rivenwood was beginning to hunger. for a week the snow had gone unabated, and the brackenwood remained harsh, emptied of all but a few straggling reindeer.
when he was not hunting, draining his own energies beneath the onslaught of snow, mahler felt rage gripping his belly. it remained with him when he woke, delved into his fitful sleep; it was a heavy-grown cloak that drove him now from the tunnel beneath the boulder. 
greed had driven him before. now pride awakened its unwelcome self in the gargoyle and his stoneflower gaze turned in the direction of legion. nostrils exterminated steam and mahler sent up a howl for @Star, for @Sequoia, for @Praimfaya. the former he would give the reins of rivenwood in name, for the shadowpriest intended to succeed or to be succeeded by life itself; the latter two were called as warriors. @Ketzia he requested to remain behind for now.
the children of rivenwood were hungry, and mahler could no longer remain subservient to the hard-packed land.
he set out grimly, using instinct over visibility to lead him onward.
for any who followed, the gargoyle knew it might very well mean death, and so he did not demand; he had sung once and followed familiar frozen trails until he came to the land he accepted must be his own.
the borders of legion found the tall man wreathed in snow and cold-hearted with determination.
crown upon a backtilt; a black dirge sounding at the snow-banked territory line.
i have come to claim what is mine, @Arbiter.

Welll shit.  When he'd signed on for not dying in the frozen wastes around them (dramatic) he hadn't quite meant to die in a pack invasion instead.  Yet apparently this was 'fuck Zane' month, and not in a good way, and what he wanted didn't really matter.  He'd just found breakfast too.

Zane flattened himself more against the snow as Mahler's call rang out from a mere 40 feet or so away.  He couldn't see them around the rise he was cowering behind, but he was willing to bet the border wouldn't hold them back for long.  He could always just... peace out.  He hadn't even been accepted here yet, right?  And what's his face had said his mom was gone, which meant there wasn't really anyone here representing head honcho leadership.

Well, shit, hold on.  Wait a damn second.

Yo, if he saved her bacon and got these whatevers to bounce off, she'd be beggin him to play arm candy for her.  Babes ate shit up like that and Zane was suddenly picturing a whole slew of scenes straight out of the most cringey, terrible romantic fiction you'd ever hope not to read.

Plan B (get girl) hadn't quite connected and clashed with Plan A (not get killed) when Zane popped around the rise and lazily strode forward to meet them.  Hey, hey, c'mon now.  Do we really need all this?  He was expecting only one guy, and if more had accompanied, Zane was about to regret his life decisions immensely.

She wasn't really the "warrior" type, but staying on Mahler's good side was key, she knew, if she was to get what she wanted. She wasn't pleased that he had admitted that skank Ketzia into their ranks, but what was she to do? As long as she got what she wanted, Sequoia decided it didn't even matter to her all that much anyway. At least Ms. Skank had not been invited along, so Sequoia did not have to bother with her. Instead, there was another female. Younger than her, but at least neutral to Sequoia (so far).

The piebald girl did not know what plan Mahler had stitched together once they got here, but she flanked his side anyway, eyeing the approaching wolf with curiosity. In Mahler's ear, she spoke quietly, so that the stranger could not hear.

Don't kill this one. He's cute.

praimfaya, war born and forged, cannot ignore the call of it as it sings to her like a lulling sirensong beneath the waves. she was and always would be a helpless soldier to it. war was inevitable and it follows her like a shadow; lurking at every corner. she follows mahler as he leads their small trio towards legion, curious to see how it will play out and what will become of rivenwood if it ended badly. already, they were too small and the storms that had begun to brew and lay over the lands like a plague of whitedeath spelled certain extermination.

she draws to his side as he stops as the borders, his call ringing out into the echoing walls of the bypass. on the territory itself, she is not particularly sold but she can make a home anywhere, she's learned.

mahler's summons is answered by a male, striding forth lazily, asking if they really needed 'all this'. immediately, praimfaya isn't impressed. she turns her cynical eye to him and immediately brushes him off as 'non-leader' whether that was true or not. his approach, however, was enough to feed her the assumption. she snorts, unable to help herself, when the other woman mentions not killing him, that he was cute. clearly, they had two different definitions of 'cute', though praimfaya's attraction was limited to dacio ( though that was a secret ), arcturus — way out of her league — and illidan — who was probably out of her league too. if she had a type, she didn't know but she knew immediately it wasn't this man.

he's not even a proper guardian. praimfaya speaks to her fellow female counterpart, words scalding; not caring that he was right there and could hear her. she didn't know any guardian to answer a claiming howl at their borders with a lazy gait. it should've been answered with teeth.

Aw, fuck. Alexandre had really been hoping to avoid conflict, here.

The man had been a bit further out than Zane, but he'd run here all the same. He approached the group carefully, icy eyes darting from one to the next. He didn't know the man in his pack, but he'd back him up regardless. 

Ale was not technically highly ranked in the pack, but Arbiter was gone, and... well, someone had to try and diffuse the situation. And catching the tail end of what Zane had said, it didn't appear to be him.

So he did what he did best. Bluffed.

Alexandre approached with his head held high and his tail slightly raised, an air of authority without being aggressive. If at all possible, he wanted to avoid conflict here - they were outnumbered, after all, and it would be easier to deal with if they could just talk it out. 

"What business do you have with Legion?" he questioned, scanning over the wolves gathered and landing his gaze on the male that had howled for them initially. "Perhaps we can discuss a peaceable solution."

Like you leaving.

the arrival of the taiga wolves was punctuated by the appearance of a stranger. but not arbiter. this man wore his own years and the weight of him would have seemed imposing, were it not for the sheer disrespect he indicated with his languid tone. at his side sequoia whispered, and mahler felt a brief frustration that she seemed to think they had come for a social call.
but it was gone in the next, as an icy sense of amusement floated through him. sequoia was confident in rivenwood, he suspected. and praimfaya was correct. mahler slowly scanned the first newcomer with an openly scrutinizing, unimpressed look. arbiter claimed weak wolves. rivenwood held small numbers, but it would have been intolerable not to fiercely defend its borders.
the second was a man made quite feminine; were it not by scent and by tone, mahler would not have made of him a man. he had an intelligent rougish look, and the gargoyle chose not to underestimate him. 
though he spoke of legion he did not seemed committed to its defense, and mahler seized the opening. "considering the veather, i think it vould be best to avoid conflict," be began with a scathing dryness, insulted that arbiter had not the gall to attend the weakened borders herself. "i vill give you two choices," he continued, voice cutting through the pale flakes. "join me as i take this land or be cast out."
"after all, your leader knew i vas coming back." a cruel hint to his expression, rarely seen and sudden. "yet it seems you vere not told. she must not think so highly of you if she did not inform legion." whipquick flick of his gaze to the first man, returned thereafter to the second male that the gargoyle had deemed speaker for the bypass.

So, this guy was definitely not alone.   Silver lining?  He was accompanied by two absolute stunners, and Zane was all the more interested in coming off as some sort of suave leader character.  He had no clue he'd already blown both the entrance AND the opening lines.  Not to mention, he apparently had an understudy who actually knew what he was doing.

He was opening his mouth to say something else when some other dude showed up, but this guy was Legion.  And he walked like he was head honcho, something Zane KNEW was a lie because this home-slice didn't look like a "mom" to him.  He straightened himself up as well, chest out, so that he rivaled the other guy's stance.  It was awkward and very obviously put on, but fuck if he was losing out just because some other dude apparently knew what leadership was supposed to stand like.

He gave a wink to the dames, then tried to catch what their grandpa was saying.  He talked weird, but from what Zane could parse, the chick in charge here made some kinda deal with him that he was hear to collect on.  Seriously?  He'd been here all but two seconds and some glorified bookie was about to break his nuts in.

Woahkay.  He said, smiling nonchalantly.  I see what's goin on here.  Look, I'm sad to say the lady's outta town.  But if you're lookin for a good time, why would you come all the way out here?  Seems you got two perfectly fine catches right under your nose.  He gave em a nice little quirk of his obviously chiseled brow, just in case they didn't get the memo.  Because, y'know... he was talkin about them.

Apparently even Warlock had his limits. There was too much for him to worry about on top of the things that he already worried about just by virtue of him existing in the world. The howl was the final straw. He cracked, stalking towards the source with a bearing that would have had Arbiter proud. This was just too much. His fur spiked briefly, and he crossed the packland at a fairly good clip -- but he wasn't nearly as close as the other two men, apparently.

He caught the latter half of what was said. Taking the packland? What the hell? Was this the guy she'd mentioned? The guy that maybe could teach Pheiros in the spring? Oh no. Warlock was a tall man, not the most physically imposing figure, but his bones were that of both his parents and his expression shifted so that the usually-meek Warlock now actually looked like he might have been Arbiter's son, glaring daggers towards the unfamiliar trio of figures on the far side of the borders. You LIAR! he shouted as he closed the remaining distance to stand aside the other men, basically ignoring Zane (who he'd probably yelled over anyway). His posture was dominant and relatively aggressive as well, pretty uncharacteristic  for him -- but he'd gone past a tolerant point and was putting his foot down. This isn't the spring! What happened to maybe teaching my friend?! he snarled. All a goddamn lie wasn't it? Did you take Haunt too?! Send her off on a wild goose chase?! You take a fair negotiation and decide to trash it! None of this is yours! Nor will it ever be when she hears. "She" and "her" being Arbiter in that case, but he didn't specify. Arbiter had mentioned to Warlock to tell Pheiros she might have found him a teacher -- he hadn't had a chance to do so since the other youth was scouting -- and he had definitely received a slightly reworded version of the events, but the basis was there, reasonably correct. With a side of conspiracy theory just for spice. 

You could've just waited, kept your promise, then it woulda been fine, everybody happy. But no! Screw you, piss off -- nobody here likes your type of liar! He was not the best at being angry, but his spirit was in it at least. A sharp flick of his head to the women with him, Do they know you brought them out here for no damn reason other than you're throwing a tantrum 'cause you decided you didn't actually wanna wait like you said? War figured this dude was a really bad leader regardless, at least based on his lessons -- Arbiter had tried to point out that picking the route with less fighting was often the best. Of course, she was trying to point out that in conflict the better option is to threaten people into cooperating if the other choice was actual battle but he had a more innocent take of it. But he was still Warlock, and not launching himself to try and remove a face or anything. That would be Arbiter's job, whenever she got back.

Doesn't need to be a guardian if he's cute, Sequoia said. At least that meant they had different taste in men, which meant that they wouldn't be at odds with each other in that department. As far as Sequoia was concerned, they were still neutral acquaintances.

Another wolf appeared, this one even prettier than the first, and Sequoia paid him plenty of attention. He was more formal, although she had to hold back a smile when the first wolf tried to mimic his dainty pack mate. "Tried" being the key word there, since he really didn't appear to be threatening in the least. Neither of them did, really. Mahler was, as far as Sequoia could tell, a whole lot more experienced than these two.

Not only that, but Mahler was quick to give them an ultimatum: join or frick off. Sequoia liked that, especially if it meant there was a chance she could snap up the goofy one.

Then again, the goofy one did just imply that Sequoia and Praim were Mahler's "catches," which squicked her out a bit. Mahler was like, an old. And he certainly wasn't interested in her. But the goofy one had called them catches, so maybe he was just trying to squeeze in a compliment. Yeah, that was it.

Another (way too talkative, in Seq's opinion) wolf arrived, spouting this and that about Mahler being a liar, talking about how he'd stolen somebody or something. Sequoia's tail lashed, and she braced herself for Mahler's command, however soon it might come.

mahler was the catalyst for a snowball effect that appears to be gaining steam as more of legion's members trickle in. mahler leaves them with an ultimatum that would've made the first heda proud: join or leave. up until the point when the flirty one insinuated that she and seqouia were mahler's arm candy she'd been fairly good at ignoring him. her skin crawls — not because she doesn't like mahler but because she hates being objectified as if she were a pretty doll — it reminds her too much of donovan and all of his false, hollow endearments. her lips curl back from her teeth and she snaps her jaws towards zane. shut up.

though if her warning to him was heard or not, as another male ( warlock ) came barreling onto the scene yelling and acting like he was in charge all the while admitting that he wasn't, was anyone's guess.

she is quiet as the newest male on the scene, makes his tirade and bites on her tongue to keep herself silent, curious to see how this will play out and how mahler might account for the ever changing developments.

He'd only just now come into contact with the mouthy wolf in his own pack, and already he wanted to slaughter him. They seemed to be around the same age, so how had that mouth of his not killed him by now? Not only was he treating this like a joke, but he was practically handing these wolves information. Why tell them Arbiter wasn't here? They hadn't asked yet, and Alexandre was not a fan of doling out info without it being necessary. Plus the flirting - why was he attempting to woo these wolves? 

The leader - the male on the other side - seemed at least partway reasonable, but damn if Ale approved of shows of force as intimidation. In his opinion, it showed a lack of intelligence, coming into a situation with an ultimatum and an unwillingness to compromise. 

Before Ale could try and talk with the male from the other pack (or chew the one on his own pack out,) Warlock showed up. And boy, did the kid have a lot to say. Well... so much for avoiding conflict. But at least the kid had shown some passion and ferocity. It lit a fire in Alexandre's own chest, and a wry smirk crossed his maw as he regarded the intruders. 

"You heard the man," he announced, fur bristling along his spine as he tensed, wiry muscles coiled and prepared to lunge should it come to blows. "I'd suggest you all move on back to wherever you came from. This land's taken."

Though not called to the scene, and still on uncertain terms with his father, Thade was not keen on ignoring the graf’s peculiar movements outside of his chosen territory. He followed the small group of Rivenwood wolves at a distance, staying true to the path by following what was left of their tracks, which were being filled in quickly by the downpour of snow. When he arrived to the scene, it was between words, so he had no present context, but he could easily tell that everyone was tense.

Trying to discern the reason for this standoff, the lanky minor held back and pushed his ears forward, straining to hear over the sharp wind.

arbiter was not present. mahler discarded the remainder of what the first legionary had said, though his gaze shone like lilac icewater at the brute's insinuation. praimfaya was quick to dismiss him with a snap of her young jaws, and the shadowpriest knew by now she would have already moved with force.
but she remained attuned to him, did not undermine the heavy authority that mahler sought to wield. sequoia bantered, but the tonality of her body had not changed. she was rather a wildcard to the gargoyle; he knew not what she might do. praimfaya's figure had already hardened into the practiced lines of a warrior, and mahler shifted his attention to the boy who suddenly appeared shouting among them.
his mother was not here. this was reinforced by the flurry of words over action; he had not the confidence of a leader to lend him strength. and she would have appointed an heir by now. his disrespect boiled through mahler; he was reminded of another shrieking boy at the borders of another pack, sequoia tightened beside him, and overlapping the last sentences of the child's speech, the gargoyle surged forward in a controlled whiplash — at the first man who had alluded so crudely toward the presence of the huntresses, a roar thundering in the barrel of his chest and clawing maliciously from the column of his throat.
this male numbered his age and presumable strength; and mahler would not be predicatable, nor rote, self-hatred singing into a low, hungry focus as the sound of the world died away.
weighted jaws meant to punish the skin and bone across the pack wolf's muzzle; he swung his shoulder low and up. where his blows would fall would be the decision of fate. awareness knowing that the feminine man would attend the prince, he readied himself for another bevy of scarring.
there was a thrill in the shadowpriest as he soared into battle, for it had been at once both a long time and not enough, and he thought of the black wolf's teeth cutting, cutting — of wylla's mangled eye, and how she had sacrificed it in her love.
enough now — it was his hope that praimfaya would choose her target well, and that sequoia would prove her teeth again as she had upon their hunt.
mahler, drawing upon the strength of rivenwood and setting the golden thought of @Wylla into the host of his inner mind as he welcomed whatever doom might befall his flesh.

The cute patterned one seemed to possibly be into what he was laying down, though the other told him to shut up on no uncertain terms.  Sheeesh, frigid and uptight.    Nothing wrong with enjoying a compliment, sweetheart, he thought.  But if she wasn't interested, he'd lay it on double for her friend.

Zane paid no attention to what Warlock was saying.  He was too busy trying to catch Sequoia's attention... and missed Mahler's attack completely.  The man was no warrior.  He folded under the other leader's assault like cardboard.  Jaws caught his muzzle and shoved his face down into the ground, and Mahler's motion aggrivated the wounds that were still there from his previous encounter.

Wh...f....  Zane tried to voice his outrage, but the sounds that left his clamped muzzle were more pained and panicked whine than actual words.  He shoved straight at Mahler and sought to tear his muzzle from the man's jaws with his forepaws, pushing and clawing to get free.

Mahler shot after the one she'd thought was cute, and she certainly didn't want to attack her other prospect, so Sequoia set her sights on the talkative one instead. He was probably just a lot of hot air, anyway.

With her eyes locked on the yappy one, Sequoia launched herself at him, springing her feet off the ground. Her jaws would take whatever she could grab a hold of, be it an ear, a leg, or his balls. Especially his balls. She didn't think he would need them when she was through with him, and she certainly wasn't interested in them (except for chomping). He'd be better neutered.

Neither side is prepared to yield, it would appear and it occurs to Praimfaya that they are woefully outnumbered, should anyone one else in legion come across the altercation ...but there is no call for arms — perhaps mahler's attack left no time for it — and thus, the commander thinks the three males that showed to defend their territory are the only ones willing to die for it. none of them looked like warriors, though that was not based off of fact and her own first impressions of them and, with them as the sole defenders they are evenly matched.

she would not die for mahler's plight but she was a warrior and a warrior didn't turn away from a fight, either.

with mahler engaging the flirty one, and seqouia going after the mouthy one, this leaves the dainty one ( alexandre ) to Praimfaya. you should've surrendered. she says matter-of-factly before she lunges for him; the thrill of battle coursing thru her veins. she seeks to land the first blow somewhere — anywhere would do, truly — lest he yielded to her.

This noob is rusty @ fight posts

Everything devolved rapidly. The man turned and went after Zane, the white woman after Ale. They weren't reasonable people -- not at all. That was horribly clear! Why wasn't his mother home this once?!

Warlock was easy to underestimate. He was usually meek, he was not a picture of strength, though he might be quite tall. Had he been born to a different family he would have likely been a happy, amiable boy with lots of interests. Only thing was, he was born to Arbiter, and she wasn't one to pull punches for a 'softer' kid, so instead he had issues. Issues, and training that had been pretty well pounded into him between Arbiter and Pike. Arbiter hadn't taught him to fight fair -- that wasn't her thing -- she taught how to survive.

He stepped back out of instinct, trying to figure out what to do, a moment of indecision that meant he hadn't moved from his place as things went boom. But the oddly-marked woman picked him -- for whatever reason, he didn't know, honestly, it was unimportant. But she flew at him with an attack that seemed, well, not particularly aimed. His head pulled back like a rattlesnake's, weight shifted to his more distant front leg -- he left open a target he wanted her to take, his shoulder or his side while the rest of him would hopefully seem less appetizing. He would take the pain, already likely to be somewhat dampened by the adrenaline coursing through his body, to get the strike he wanted because that was what he was taught. He didn't back down, sharpened features and another snarl and bristle of fur, the upward arc of his tail, reacting at the last moment to strike down on her face, to grab the upper part of her muzzle and slam it downwards much as Mahler had to Zane -- or if he mistimed it a little, he'd be ok to try to take an eye or two instead by accident or whatever part of her head he locked on to and would try to crush. Warlock was not a man who liked fighting, but he was sure as hell not going to do so half-hearted. He wanted it over quick and he wanted to be in one piece! 

His mother's voice rang in his head -- something about in a real fight how you give no mercy, for surely they will not give it to you. This trio was not one that seemed to be fond of rationality. The rest of his mind was basically just incoherent screaming at this point, honestly.

When Thade would recall this moment later, he would not remember the shock he felt as he witnessed his father instigate a battle. Nor would he recollect making any sort of choice in those seconds on what he should do. He would only be able to reminisce about how it felt to have tunnel vision overcome all of his natural senses, and the rush he felt while launching himself into the pulse-pounding fray.

Because she is nearest when the fighting starts, Thade darted forward to aid Praimfaya without regard for his surroundings. Predictably, his wildly tactless approach let the combatant know that they would be outnumbered, and before either Rivenwood ally can get a good grip on its handsome gray hide, the wolf turned to flee without injury — as most wolf skirmishes end.

Still wild with adrenaline, Thade prepared to give chase when he noticed that one of the three opponents was fighting back harder than the others had thus far. He rounded on the black and white male, thundering forward to sink his teeth into the wolf's hip.

;-; I wrote out Alexandre; hope that's ok!

Hope its OK I add Kigipigak, he isn't attacking anyone at this point though.

He'd lagged behind the group somewhat, wanting to do some patrols of the claim before he followed after them. It was an entirely selfish move by Kigipigak; but he had not lived on such lowlands before and wanted to be as useful as he could. When he did finally leave the territory it was to follow after the band of wolves he had pledged himself to — and they left a wide trail through the snow leading south, towards the bypass. 

To say he was cautious upon his approach was an understatement; so when Kigipigak did make himself known, it was after a howl had been raised, conversation had been had, and tensions had built. The pale man approached from behind the wall of bodies and looked from wolf to wolf until he spotted Mahler, and then beyond the group — searching for the surly issumatar he had met here before.

Instead there was a grey-capped youth. They were running their mouth somewhat, and Kigipigak wasn't paying much attention (although his ears twitched when he heard them mention Haunt) and before Kigipigak could do much else, everything fell apart.

Mahler launched himself forward. A tawny wolf likely loyal to Legion came under attack and folded quickly, his muzzle grasped rough. A petite freckled wolf veered after another body, and then a grey-marked woman moved effortlessly against the last. Kigipigak did not know what to do; he had never been in such a large-scale combat situation before and could only watch as brawls broke out among the rival groups.

If anyone came close enough to put his new leader in to harms way — or any of the others — he would surely try to intervene; but for now he paced and watched, bristling, full of concern.

the male that mahler had suspected might lead the attack did the opposite; he crumbled beneath the snakebite of the gargoyle's teeth. breath seared out on either side of his grasp, lips upturned into a cruel grin quite unlike any feeling that had been displayed upon his face.
jaws ground down, not harsh enough to break the skin further; mahler warned with another resounding growl. 
and then there came to him the low, memorable sound of his son's tread — thade! and the lavender eyes hardened. he made as if to shove the downed man away from him in a rough gesture; stepping back with a flare of his hackles that promised more than a bruised muzzle if he was tested again.
mahler kept his stare toned coldly to his would-be opponent, but about him he heard the sounds of victory, noting that in the flurry legion had lost the feminine soldier in flight from rivenwood's violence. it was only then he noted kigipigak's presence, a peripheral snowfall; and pride filled his heart.
knowing arbiter's son would be handled well by the combined efforts of the captain, the sylph, and his son, the shadowpriest snapped his jaws upon air toward the weakling cur he had first attacked. and if he was not stopped, mahler meant to shoulder his way deeper into the territory, hiking his leg in an arc of yellow for the first claiming.

Ohhhhhhhhhhh fuck.

First hot-shot jets off like a little weenie (that's right, book it, chicken) but then grandpa gets MORE to show?

Hypocritically, Zane's perspective swung even more towards "flight" than it was previously.  Maybe what's his face had the right idea (though hey, note, he'd run first.  Who was fake alpha now?)...

As if he wouldn't already be running if grandpa's teeth weren't in his face.

Fuck this, kid, I did NOT SIGN UP FOR THIS!  Zane hollered, and with one past parting snap at Mahler to get a little space, he turned tail and fled.  Too bad.... he'd have loved to stop for a conversation with that spotted one.  

He just really liked living a hell of a lot more.  Two on four (five!?) weren't odds he wanted to explore.  Hell - he hadn't liked three on three.

It was a flurry of fur and teeth, but when she realized one of the others was running, she knew that her opponent did not have a chance. That left their enemies even more outnumbered, and Sequoia broke free from her opponent's brief grip. The fight was over; now it was his time to run. Sequoia bared her teeth at him, her lip curled back in a vicious snarl.

She spotted Mahler moving forward and another wolf she did not know, but who was clearly on their side. Large, silvery, and decidedly rugged. Maybe she would make a point to get to know him once this whole thing had blown over. Then again, maybe she'd be more inclined to do so if he was doing more than standing around observing.

this will be my last post!

nostrils flared. a smirk broke across mahler's countenance as rivenwood routed th wolves of legion who had stood against them.
the heavy musk of his own scent hung in the air now.
with a chuff toward his followers, the gargoyle pressed deeper into the territory. caches would be dug up and the contents consumed until he was full; he paused every so often to overlay the markers with his own, pride and satisfaction mingling within him until a howl poured from his throat and pleasure flared through his being.

Warlock, unlike the others, would have been willing to fight, but apparently the others who had spoken of boldness, of willingness to help were at their core just liars. Liars with no spine. But Warlock was also no fool. When they ran, it forced him to do the same. This was not how things were supposed to go -- those who were this treacherous weren't supposed to win. He'd make sure the others were safe, at least.