Haunted Wood Break me down, you’ve got a lovely face

Setting: Night — 23:45
Weather: Eerily quiet, foggy, clear skies.

Santiago has been lost for some time now. No, not lost, but wandering. He had escaped the Teekon for no other reason other than his own selfish needs. His spine prickles with nerves at his blatant disregard for his previous mates — he abandoned them. Serem, the powerful midnight wraith that had the power to seduce him into complacency. Clarence. Oh, Clarence. The poor boy. He knows Serem would be able to make it on her own, but when he had first found Clarence he was already half dead and lost; so, so lost. His heart pounds horribly in his chest at the thought of anything bad happening to them. El segador — the reaper — has come back. He’s come back with purpose. To find his mates and spill blood along the way. New and many scars litter his pelt and he has the tang of blood in his mouth from his last kill — another wolf. 

The nigh is still young for him, he prefers the moon over the sun anyhow. Only when he realizes that he has made it into the haunted woods he used to call his home did his heart stutter in his chest. The forest around him is thick with fog and the silence is eerie. There is no one living here any longer. The nightwalkers have passed into the next realm, as will anyone else who dares interrupt him this night.

Nyra be like: "lol bet//fuck around and find out"

 


The Overseer was already so close to her due date, she could feel it. 
Unbeknownst to her, it was still about a week away. 

In the morning, she set out, the tenderness in her teats was bearable and the aching of her spine was almost nonexistent, so, the snow-furred Queen had moseyed out of the Strath and took the week-long journey to end up exactly where she's at right now. She'd figure out the return journey later.
She felt she needed the adventure anyway, maybe she'd also gain a recruit on the way back for the Saints? 
They did seem to be getting larger numbers these days, perhaps she'd speak to Donovan about forming a sister clan at a later time...

For now though, the ripened beauty was focused on other things, like the black-white wolf with strange ears and no tail just a little ways off. 
She could see him fairly okay in the fog, and as hormonal, territorial wolves do, her hell-molten gaze speared into him, hackles and tail high in a full display of dominance and status. 

She didn't claim these woods, but to her it didn't matter. 
Nobody did claim these woods anymore, far as she could smell. And Nyra, being very, very pregnant, was in just about every way 100% inclined to rip his face off first and ask questions after he was lifeless on the ground. 

Yet she stayed her wicked fangs for the moment. 
What would he do?

Santi feels eyes on him through the fog. As if the hills had eyes and they were ready to swallow him up. His spine prickles and his ruined ears shift on his crown. The hills are watching him yes, but it seems someone else is as well. Who dares step foot in his forest now? Who dares challenge the reaper in his own game of life and death. 

His brows furrow as he slinks his silvery, moon-like eyes along the hazy line of the horizon. Only to finally land on his unwanted company; a large wolf with gleaming golden eyes. His lip twitches as he looks at the dominant position she holds herself in. How dare she challenge him. 

The Spaniard stares for quite a few seconds. Searching for weaknesses and oh does he find one. This wolf is pregnant. Instantly his maw goes from an irritated frown, to a sickening and horribly sadistic smirk. He shakes his head slowly as if disappointed in her. How dull is she to fight one of equal size and strength as her when she holds children? 

Santi doesn’t move into a dominant position, he doesn’t need to look dominant, he knows what skills he holds. His head is even with his shoulders and he peers over at her. 

“Who are you and why are you here, mujer aburrida?” He says lowly. His Spanish accent horribly strong as his smooth voice rolls out the syllables.

Nyra's hellborne eyes somehow continued to sharpen as the black-white noticed her. 
Silence...
More silence...
Just as he was analyzing for weaknesses on her, she was doing exactly the same with him. Noticing some of the mending slashes over his front...
 
The Overseer watched him register her swollen belly, and saw the smirk slide over his face. She almost scoffed outwardly at the assumption he may think she was vulnerable because she was with child. 

He was very, very wrong.

The thing about Nyra was she didn't always know when to stop, or when enough was enough. 
Hell, she had no limits in her own mind. 
She worked hard for what she had in her grasp, and yet she wanted even more. 

When he spoke, Nyra was tempted to throw it back at him, but amazingly enough, she remembered her claim was not out here. They were on neutral ground, as far as she was concerned.

So, she begrudgingly entertained his questions and spoke, voice carrying and splitting the eerie silence.
"I am the Alpha of the Saints of the Dying Light, Nyra." She rumbled, "I'm out for a stroll." The Queen furthered, though not by much. If she was feeling conversational she might've explained that being pregnant and lying around most of the time got boring after a while. 

But, she wasn't feeling chatty. So, what she gave was all she was giving at the moment.

They study one another. Two warriors in their element and analyzing the other for weaknesses. It’s too bad he doesn’t have any. He does not fear death and is not with child. To him, he is invincible and if he proves to not be then he welcomes the realm he would step into after an honorable death. Except Santi knows nothing of honor. He couldn’t care for it. It’s a dog eat dog world out here and he’s out for himself. 

Surprisingly, this shewolf answers him. She’s an alphess of some pack. One he hasn’t heard of. Must have popped up when he’d left. Her name is Nyra and she’s out on a fresh midnight stroll. How fun is that. He’s not here to mope about, he’s here to find his old mates or die trying. 

He tilts his head slightly. “I smell no pack here. Is your home close?” He asks then. “I would hope so.” It’s not a threat, but it might be a threat.

If she truly desires a fight he would give her one. Demobilize her and rip those pups right out of her stomach for her to see. He’d kill them too. Just as he’s killed many children and pups before. He wouldn’t be going hungry tonight if that does end up happening.

Nyra rolled a 12! R. I. P

 


In the split second she sees the murderous intent in his white gaze, she's not hearing his words, and he'd be lucky if he got any out by the time she connected with him. 

With no previous sign or spoken word, the battle maiden is charging with ferocity equivalent to a cosmic god. 
She arces her deadly teeth for the middle of his face, seeking to slash out one if not both eyes. 
Whether she catches him by the nose, the muzzle, his throat, wherever she is able to connect with him, her end game is to shred and rip and tear and slash and make him bleed but most of all--

MAKE. HIM. DIE. 

Santi rolled a 9 :>

Santi can feel the air shift and his blood boils with excitement. He’s not sure if she’s going to attack just yet, but he can feel her anger radiating off of her. This is what he lives for. This is what he will die for. 

Yet, even as he moderately expects her to attack, she almost catches the male off guard. Her massive form is charging towards him like an asteroid shooting through the atmosphere. Large paws thumping against the ground and before he knows it she’s on him. He’s only able to brace himself by widening his stance and taking the brunt of her hit; which surprisingly goes straight for his face. How unfortunate, all he has left are his good looks. 

When she hits him, it feels like he’s being hit by a truck. Her teeth are savagely tearing at his face and instantly he sees and tastes blood. She’s slashing open his nose, tearing open his lip, and leaving horrid gashes on his cheeks. Hie winces at the pain and then his heart skips a beat when he feels one of her large canines slicing his skin deep from his forehead, down, down, down, into his left eye. He knows he’s been blinded by the searing hot and fiery pain shooting there. She didn’t puncture it, but her tooth has cut it, leaving it useless and bloody. He’s been blinded and it only furthers his desire for her blood even further. He would take this victory and spit on her corpse afterwards. 

To retaliate the Spaniard growls savagely, torn lips snarling up and baring bloodied teeth back at her. Doing the same, he goes for her face, but only manages to hit the one side. He would look to bite onto the junction of her neck and jaw, teeth sliding down into position and hopefully shredding her ear along with it. His jaws would lock onto her and shake as much as he’s physically able to. The more tearing he could do the more blood would pour. The more blood that pours, the easier she’d go down.

HOMEGIRL ROLLED A 13!!!!!

 

Nyra is livid pissed, and she feels his teeth on her in retaliation. But she pays his own biting and shaking little mind, thanks to her own intensive training, she was used to it by now (Thanks, Donovan!) 
So as he reaches for her cheeks, the Battle Maiden savagely seeks to shove her jaws into his own with the intent to grip his lower jaw and rip it off his face. 

But if she doesn't get that lucky, her fangs will just as easily revert to slashing and ripping and shredding for his jugular, or anywhere else that was vital and/or would hurt like a bitch - Including more of his face. 
Homegirl gives no shits today and the Big Bad BitchTM likely wouldn't give any shits tomorrow. 
He's a dead motherfucker and she's going to town, Battle Phoenix with a Royal crown - taking all these cocky mother-huffers to the ground, you better bow down.

Homeboy rolled a 10. The suspense!!!! He’s about to get humbled ;>

Okay. Perhaps Santi underestimated his vicious friend here. She does mean business and he’s getting the worst end of it. His face is absolutely shredded. New scars to add to his already abundant selection. If he lives that is. Which he fully intends to, but he never knows what luck has in store for him. Santi is a superstitious man, perhaps this is karma coming back to bite him in the ass — quite literally. 

It seems his shaking and tearing of flesh doesn’t do much. Even though he feels her blood blooming onto his tongue, she isn’t as damaged as he would hope. It doesn’t stop him from trying though. So, as previously mentioned, Santi has shit for honor. He would try his best to expose her weakness. Well, he’s trying to but she’s going for his face once more. They’re face to face snapping at one another savagely and her teeth catch on his jaw and damn near dislocate it. He’d have a hard time eating after this. Only she creeps lower and lower; he feels her teeth slash at his neck, horribly close to his jugular. His throat is ripped open, but it’s not lethal — not yet anyway. He knows he has to back up. Santi dislodges himself and drops low to the ground to try and dodge her next bites. 

All he sees is red. There’s blood flying everywhere — mainly his — and a sadistic, toothy smirk plays on his maw. The pain and thrill of death excites him. Oh to meet his maker this day. It would be glorious.

He moves swiftly, sinking low and his teeth go straight for her extended belly. Snapping at her lower side in hopes of disemboweling her. Surely it would do some damage. He’s just as large and muscled as she is and his teeth equally honed. He would snap, hold, shake violently. He is easily open for an attack, but he hopes that even if he dies, he’d take the bastard children the rest in her belly with him.

The Queen rolled a 10, he a dead boi now LMAO

 


She keeps up the assault, even as he backs up and drops, she isn't taking any chances and her teeth just keep coming.

Then he's going for her stomach. 





BIG MISTAKE. 


All Nyra sees is red, in a figurative way, and in the moment she's no longer even one piece sane as she lets out a kill-worthy roar, whirling her bulk around on him with hell-fury as she lunged down at him with no intent of catching herself if her body slammed into his own. She was flaming, furious, and bloodthirsty. 
Her teeth were aimed straight for his jugular, and if she caught hold of it in her jaws, she was not letting go until he stopped moving. 
But, if he was able to protect his throat, she'd all too happily continue to maim and rip and tear every part of him she could catch until he ran for his life, or, better yet in her eyes - died.

Santi knows he’s fucked when her teeth latch onto his his neck. His body shakes with her as he tries to steady himself — to try and lessen the damage she will do. It only partially helps. So he struggles and struggles, but it proves that an angry mom-to-be has super-wolf power.

He can feel her teeth grasping and ripping at his throat and his face is twisted up in a wretched sneer. He tucks his chin and tries his best to bite at her own face, trying his hardest shred or puncture her own eye, but he knows it will be in vain. His escape attempt has failed, but that doesn’t mean he won’t stop struggling. Kicking and lashing out at her, his power limbs connect with her mountainous body. Will he escape next time?

Nyra is very much unwilling to let him go. 
She sees no reason, no acknowledgement that she's already eaten him like a fucking pot roast. His blood is in her mouth and she just won't stop, teeth snapping for more of his flesh. 

Then she feels his legs in her chest and she sprawls messily backwards off of him, getting up with a loud, bared-teeth growl. 
He has three seconds and counting to already be on his feet and bailing before the Queen is charging him again, and it shows in the pin-pricks of her pupils even as her own new wounds bleed.

He feels her teeth crunching into him and he snarls and kicks like a wild animal caught in a hunter’s trap. Reverting straight into survival mode he’d do just about anything to escape. 

It seems his struggling bears fruit. She’s stumbling back and he feels her teeth slide from his flesh at the motion. He does the same, tumbling over his own large paws and finally catching his footing. His eyes snap to her blood soaked pelt and bared teeth. He doesn’t know if she’s being merciful and sparing him or if he actually just kicked her that hard. Somehow he bets it’s the first option. 

He doesn’t question it. He snarls and coughs wetly, more blood blooming on his tongue from his ruined throat and face. He runs. Runs, runs, runs. He’s feeling light headed and the intense pumping of his heart pushing his blood through his body faster. He keeps bleeding and bleeding. He swears he might die, but he keeps moving. He got lucky this time.

He bails. 

Watching the man retreat with ushered urgency, Nyra starts to feel the pain of her own wounds. She needed to get home.

Taking a minute or two to calm down, she starts to tremble slightly, letting out a huff before she starts tredging the return journey, she thinks she'll get back home a day or two before her pups are born, but everything is to be seen.