Noctisardor Bypass Balans Nebes i Ada《Balance of Heaven and Hell》

@Shadow {Despite Ivev absent, I'll go on with this, as promised. }


Vector had been gone for weeks from the company of the Bypass, himself finding the very lands he had to call 'home' to be the den of a savage lion, one, who albeit reliant and trustworthy, was disturbed and a liar.
Today, he returned.
And today, would be the day, he would claim the blood of his previous Alpha, Hadrian. The Russian would relish in the rubies, the staining of red upon white, the colors he grew up with. The steam of the crimson upon the ice of the frosted.
Blood would be spilled, and it would be spilled, today.

His calm features scanned the area, and it was long before the man had come from the little grove in which he nursed Ivev, that he noticed the trail of the roman, a scent that was weak, the trip away, and the scent that remained strong. The trip of return. The last trip that damned soul would make.
The pearl and scarlet splattered female reassured him that she would find a nearby healer, and trusting her, he left her to it. As he returned to the borders, the recon cursed himself for not escorting her. Who knew what other wretched dogs had their orders from Hadrian to maim her delicate frame?

Vector awaited, emeralds coursing over the winter land, the grounds resembling his own background. The season he most felt at home in. There would be no losing. There would be no defeat. He would win. And there would be no mercy to the oppressor. His mind grew acute in the frosty wind, his tactics formulating before his very eyes. His body grew one with the ice, the cold stirring into him the very essence that composed his soul.

The assassin waited. He knew the roman would be smarter than to leave the borders unattended, and with Vector keeping his eye inside and out of the Bypass, he knew the thinning ranks called for more of a forward action posed from the newly returned Alpha. He had to make himself more of an appearance to the lands, for no other held the place to do such. He couldn't hide within the comfort of shadows, forever.

So just as the day that he had joined, but without the submissive pose, Vector waited. De ja Vu nicked within his mind, but the neurons swiftly murdered the euphorical moment. This was no time to relive the past.
This was a time to remake the future.

Well....this'll be interesting. I'll miss Vector though.

Shadow knew Vector would find out what he did to her girlfriend sooner or later, and his absence had not gone unnoticed. It slipped from his mind when Paarthurnax left carrying his kids and it did not remake its appearance until he came back and was calm in both mind and body. From what he learnt about the Russian, what he felt and what he saw, he knew the autumn pelted man was not an opponent to be underestimated. He said so himself, the ways of fighting and killing embedded deep into him, piercing his heart, coating his soul in ice, ice made of frozen blood.

The Roman admitted, he probably grew up in the same environment the other male did, harsh, cold, merciless. Blood was all they knew, killing was all they did, fighting was their very essence, the thing that made them who they were. It was in their blood, in their head, in their claws and fangs, in their heart. There was no escape from their upbringing, despite himself trying to change his own ways, he knew deep inside it would not and could not happen. Ever since he left his mother's womb, no, ever since his father's sperm mingled with his mother's egg and he was created, his life had been one of bloodshed and violence. His father impregnated his mother forcefully, not that she cared, she had no strength left in her anyways.

That was not something you could easily escape. It wasn't easy to escape if you were taught to do this as you grew up. It was impossible to escape if that was the life you had since you were created. There was a difference.

Today, Shadow sensed something different, he felt different, it was like the gods were warning him of something. Instincts never lied, and neither did warnings. Especially those from the gods. Agitated inside, though he remained as calm and collected outside like he usually was, he began his daily patrol out of the archway in the mountain. Fierce silver eyes scanned his surroundings warily, and then the wind brought the scent towards him. He knew nothing of Vector's intention, but he was on his guard, he could not be away for so long if he knew nothing of what happened.

Shadow had no excuse, because he felt there was no use for an excuse. She trespassed and trespassers get injured or died. Sorry girl, but it wasn't personal.

Like the agouti Russian, though he had no way of knowing it, winter was his home and his element and he fought best in the dangerous environment, having been brought up in nearly the same kind of terrain. If there was going to be a fight, he knew he could win. The Roman had a trump card, he could call upon the spirit of the dead, of the god Mars and Jupiter and they would fill him with bloodlust and feed him strength and energy. It was his belief, but it was probably just panicked energy, adrenaline. But once again, Hadrian did not know what was going to happen, perhaps Vector wanted to have a picnic and chat. It was possible but the chances of that were......low.

Shadow came within sight of the Russian, noting that he looked exactly like the way he did when he joined, minus the submissive stature. It was obvious the other male did not want to engage in a conversation regarding wildflowers. Eyes of liquid mercury regarded Vector with cold stoic indifference, his face and eyes were guarded and his stance was one on his guard. He canted his head, inviting the other to speak....or not.

◆yea, him and Vect coulda been good friends. :( ◆




The Russian simply stared at the Roman, the gaze one not of hatred, nor of fury, just one of examination. Barely that.
He was watching his movements, his mind already looking for weaknesses, for strengths, for anything that have him more information on his opponent to be. Hadrian was no fool, and even as his foot fell upon the crisp snow, an outsider could say the same thing. He was a zima voin, Vector noted. Rome must have been a place of cold frosts as well, for he held the same buoyancy the Russian did in the hostile weather ailment. A fellow zima voin, winter warrior.
What an unstoppable force they could have been. If they could have even been a 'they'.

His mind formulated the words it took, sentences shaping, being mutilated, only to reshape again in a new form. Words disregarded, cast aside, chosen, rehearsed, and sent to the only vessel that one could understand its catalyst with, his tongue. As much as he wished to transfer the sentences by bloodshed, he would miss a few things.

"Explain Ivev's body, Hadrian."

Simple words. More were soon to come, indeed, however, the blunt of the conversation had to be taken care of first, before the sides could be sharpened.

Yeah...its sad. D:

The Roman matched Vector's stare with his own, thoughts forming in his head, battle strategies. If the Russian was going to stare at him like that, holding a posture that was not submissive, it was obvious he was not here to apologize for his absence at the Bypass. No, it seems like he was here to confront him, and maybe to kill him. Not that he would be able to kill him, of course, even if he was slipping to the edges of life, Shadow wouldn't let himself die, for Flash and Crëyr, for his pack, for his pups.

The words that slipped from the autumn furred male confirmed his theory, the male knew of what happened to the white trespasser and was here to get revenge for her? At least Shadow proved that the Russian did indeed care for the ivory furred female, that he did have the weakness. He didn't bother to talk about that, wasting his breath and words on someone who he could now count as an enemy was something he simply did not do. The words Vector spoke echoed around his head again and again and again, he was not feeling regretful for his actions against Ivev or remorseful, but simply contemplating the best way to answer.

Explain Ivev's body, Hadrian.Explain Ivev's body, Hadrian.Explain Ivev's body, Hadrian.Explain Ivev's body, Hadrian.Explain Ivev's body, Hadrian.Explain Ivev's body, Hadrian.

Shadow was tempted to smirk but decided against it, with a tilt of his head he spoke "She was trespassing. I did what I needed to do." the words were spoken coldly, no longer friendly. He would have been a valuable asset, the Roman thought wearily, sure that the fellow assassin was going to leave after this. "She is not dead, is she?" Despite the questioning ending, it was not a question but a simple statement, as if suggesting the girl and the Russian should be glad she was alive. The girl should be happy he let her go without delivering the death blow, she was pathetically easy to wound. Pathetic.

Vector smiled, the words returned to him after several pauses, pauses his mind sat not idle, only filling the void with more thoughts, more strategies, more vocals.
Those words sounded just as if he were in his paws, speaking them.
He sounded just like himself.
They could have been brothers.

He did what he had to do. Hadrian simply acted out orders. Orders he too, would have followed on. If anything, the Russian should feel ashamed, standing up for a wounded girl, a simple devushka that offered nothing to him but a fight he was here for now.
A fight he was committing to, in her defense. A fight she was too weak to fight, herself.
But a fight he had been training for, never the less.

This Roman, they could have been brothers. Comrades in the art of blood spilling. Massacring foes, left and right, staring down their noses at weak wolves who dared knock on their doorstep, hoping for a home.
But he had been too locked up in fucking prison to even see the light of day. Too busy being the lowest runt of the pack, when he could have been so much more. Only recently, had he been released from captivity, when he could have been helping the silver mirror image infront of him actually acomplish things.
No more, would he face such a filthy creature and look up to him.

Just as swift as half of a blink, the smile vanished, leaving the recon's face absent of emotion. Emeralds kept their contact with the stainless steels of the Alpha he once swore himself to. The Alpha, who now, was the enemy.

And without another word spoken, Vector launched himself forward.
Closing the distance between them within sonic time lengths, the Russian drew closer, and every lapse he took closer, the less mercy he planned to show this Roman.
Let the fight begin.

Goodbye Vector. Shadow and I will both miss you. :(

Shadow watched warily as Vector smiled, wondering what the fuck made him smile at such circumstances? Maybe he was smiling at the best ways to kill him, that could be possible. The blood and flesh and ripped guts spilled across pure white snow, the empty eyeballs rolling down the hillside, the redness that dripped out of the body. Surprisingly though, the dying wolf in the mental image in his head was not himself, but the wolf across him. That picture was so vivid and real, the Roman nearly winced by the sheer disgustingness and gore it possessed. He would never torture to such extremes, or kill in such a horrible manner....unless he was in a blood trance. Anyone could fall into a blood trance with enough rage and anger, getting out of it was the problem.

You felt no pain when you were in the trance, your vision was literally blood red and the only thought in your head was to draw blood, to pound the opponent until they were in bloody pieces. To make them feel pain, to make them suffer, to hear their screams. Surprisingly, the screams sounded like music to the wolf who was in the blood trance's ears. Yet when you were not in a trance, they sounded like evil souls trying to get out of the Fields of Punishment and all you wanted was to get away from it.

Shadow would only go into a blood trance on last resort, when all other strategies were gone. The last time he was forced to go into a trance was a fight with his Father, the spirit of Mars and the dead whirling around him, feeding him energy. His thoughts about what happened, at least, it might not be true. It was just too sad he was defeated in the end by Aku, who had also gone into a trance but one of higher level. His father also managed to slip out of the trance just in time before he killed him, something to be thankful for he supposed.

Half of him was on his guard, aware of his surroundings, aware of what was happening with Vector, the other half of him was thinking about this Russian male. He held the same swiftness he had on the snow, the same steadiness and he had the aura of someone who killed many before. He held the same aura the Roman did. And gazing straight into the Russian's emerald green orbs, Shadow found himself realizing what they could've done together. The packs they could have invaded and conquered, Swiftcurrent Creek cowering before them as they tore the land into pieces and got the pups back, the amount of foes they could have slaughtered. They could've been best friends.

They could've been brothers.

Little did he know the same thoughts were going through the Russian's head. Shadow regretted ever putting the man in captivity, they could have done so much if he hadn't, he could've killed Scimitar and Bazi and took over Swiftcurrent Creek, he could've gotten the pups the moment they started eating meat instead of agreeing on Scimitar's motherfucking demands and agreements. But one decision had affected everything. It was his fault. It was the gods teaching him a lesson, a lesson he made sure to keep in mind the next time he encountered the same situation.

It was such a pity, wolves like Vector were hard to come along. And now the Roman knew, not only would the Bypass miss him as a valuable asset, Shadow would miss him as a friend, if they ever were even friends. Comrades, packmates. Pulling himself together as the smile vanished off the Russian's face, he dipped his head ever so briefly, showing his respect to the fellow assassin and warrior and thanking him for his services. Knowing this would be the last time they met as friends.

The autumn furred male launched himself across the snow. The Roman waited until he was closer and side stepped. Thank you, he said silently to the agouti recon as he begun circling, analyzing the moves the Russian made, his brain calculating everything he did and forming strategies to overcome his tactics.

This is was a real battle. And blood would be spilled on snow.

◆it would be great if they both exhausted themselves, and called a truce. This is gonna be quite a long thread. Vect is still gonna go, but he could visit from time to time. :P ◆



The Russian saw the glint in the eyes of his company, one his own emeralds reflected. One of studying, analyzing. Figuring out how to unravel someone, without laying a paw or tooth on them. It was a beautiful stare, one that showed intelligence. If he wasn't in the process of trying to eliminate this wolf, he would have gone back to trying to respect him. However, that boat had sailed, long ago.

He had nothing to feed his fury upon, other than being the captive of this man, and Vector only internally laughed at the matter. With his home, there was no such thing as 'captivity'. If you were caught by any of the pack members, you were fucked. Brought before a counsel? No. You were slaughtered on the very same place where you had been seen. That was mainly what irked him. That he was captured, and not put to death. Or captured, at all. If you were to be in a pack, one you bothered to place your life down for, you were not to be a damn pet told to stay in a hold. You were to put the pack in motion, putting aside personal desires, and putting the necessities of the family first.

As Vector braked his fours, he too joined the dance of circling. His view stayed on the gaze of the sterling, but his peripheral stayed keen on the body. This was a dance many wolves before them honored, even if it wasn't one for challenging ranks.
Several predators performed this dance, and several time it was arrived out with a victor.
The Russian would be damned if it was not him.

As if puzzle pieces could click together, different motions of the dangerous tango are issued in his view. But the issue, is that he has to imagine dancing with himself. Vector knew his most dangerous enemy was the one he was, so to be paired up with one who could end his life as quickly as he could end theirs, could prove his most dangerous mission, yet.

A flashback of him training with his Brat, his brother, a man who wasn't even blood kin to him, he was constantly forcing Vector to watch his limbs. Several times, Vector was too caught up in watching his body, and paid the price with several scars to his legs.
He would not make the same mistake, again.

The assassin had to look for alternative ways. Brash methods could get him cut down as swift as an elk. Wear the enemy down, without costing your own energy. Force aggression from them, and conserve defense. And once unexpected, strike out your own aggression.

Another move clicked into place.

A feigned attack to the right shoulder, only to lower himself to jaw the left leg.

Vector prepared himself physically for the oncoming retaliation, his coarsly red ears flattening against his skull, his body tensing up for the blows that could be rained upon him at any moment.

The recon braced his hind claws in the soft snow, until he felt them dig into the thick glacier like ice. There would be no tripping him. To be off your fours was instant death, in the North. Whether they were in the fight or not, wolves would swarm the fallen lupine, and tear him to pieces. Even the thought Of not standing was uncomfortable to the recon.
So he sturdied himself, just in case.

Yeah, sounds good. :P

Mistakes were what shaped a wolf, nobody was perfect and Shadow was just as flawed as the other. He knew nothing could be changed, there was no time machine, there was no going back in time to change wrong decisions. This was life, but it didn't mean he had to like it. He hated it, loathed it and wished someone would just change the fundamental laws of life, if there were any. The creators of this universe, of this Earth, of this very life he had should go and rethink their decision and then go fuck themselves. Condemning so many lives to play their game.

Shadow watched as his opponent began circling too, eyes of liquid mercury followed his movements, analyzing visible weaknesses, forming strategies based on the weaknesses. He held not the normal vision of a normal wolf, but the vision of a warrior, of an assassin, of a fighting wolf. His eyes were focused on as much things as he could, his brain sorting out all the information.

Training his father had sharpened his skills, Aku was also fighting mercilessly, giving him the idea of how a real fight to death was like. Of course he never actually killed his son, his favourite son to be exact. Shadoe didn't know why he didn't kill him, after all with the long line of sons Aku fathered, he could choose from them, choose which was brutal and merciless enough to be his heir.

He loathed and despised his father, but he had to admit the harsh training he'd gone through as a child was worth it at times like these. It kept him alive, kept him moving, removed his pride. Pride had no place in battle, if you had pride in battle it would take your life. You needed to know you were vulnerable, you were able to be defeated to win a fight. You needed to know that to win, you did not hurt the opponent as best as you could, but make sure you were harmed less than the other wolf. Tire them out, remain strong yourself. Bait them, tease them, make them make a small mistake. The mistake that would allow him to win.

Vector attacked first, the move he used on him was familiar, allowing him to dodge most of it. Shadow sidestepped and immediately dove into action, snapping at his forepaws and retreating at once. He flattened his ears, hind legs finding sturdy ground in the snow, and circling like always. He would not be caught off balance, most of his body weight were placed unevenly, it gave him the advantage of speed. Wits before strength, you had to be cunning and agile to win an opponent. Scimitar fell before him, and now, so would this Russian.

Yet even though they were fighting, Shadow was also learning, he absorbed the moves the Russian used and remembered to learn them and use them again if he was ever in a fight. New skills were always useful.

Every step the recon took was one that placed him closer and closer to the previous Praetor he once served. The circle was tightening. The true game of Russian Roulette.
Around, and around, and around, they whirled.

Vector flexed the sharp claws in every paw put down, loosening the snow, gripping more ice. Release, step, repeat. So many thugs he focused on, his brain capable of dividing his thoughts, even in battle. Footing focus. Body actions focus. Away from snapping jaws focus. Past focus. Future focus. Evasion focus. All had been catagorized before his very eyes, and he was grateful for such an efficient mentality.
However, more was needed for the battle.

Vector was aware of the defense waves vibrating from the platinum pelted man, but offensive lay there too, dormant, yet alive. Awaiting its chance to emerge, and wreck havoc upon his form.
Taking the same method, as he.

Two defenses could result in a long and over worked fight, one that could threaten exhaustion from the both of them. However, Vector knew how foolish it would be to abandon his naturally set out plan.
Decisions, decisions.

Suddenly, Vector switched his side, and aimes a toothy slash to the right hind of Hadrian.

He'd been taught many ways of fighting, many different styles. With his natal pack made out of wolves coming from all around the world, it was only natural for his father to learn their fighting ways and teach them to his sons. Only the best for my sons, the voice of his father echoed in his head, true, it was obvious that nearly killing him and exiling him from his home was done because Aku thought it was the best for him. Thanks a lot dad, you're brilliant. He thought half sarcastically, half genuinely. It was because of his brutal training that he was alive now, and fighting.

Shadow could see they were both mainly focused on defense, trying to bait the other to make the mistake that would ultimately end with either of them dead. The Roman would make sure it was not him, he had lots to live for, he had wolves he needed to lead, friends he needed to protect, this Russian had nothing. Alright, he had the fucking girl, but he only had her and no one else. If he died, only one wolf would remember him. But if the platinum male died, the whole pack would be affected and he'd be damned if Vector led the Bypass.

At least he knew they would be in good paws, the paws of an unpredictable assassin. Not really safe...but better than douchebag Scimitar he supposed.

The tip of Vect's fangs grazed his hind leg but did not draw blood, his ruthless training and carefully honed skills keeping him alive. Shadow was not as strong as Scimitar, yet he still managed to defeat the larger stronger wolf, why? Because he was faster, speedier and he evaded all of the older wolf's attacks, nimbly inserting his own quick but deadly ones. He planned to use the same tactic on his recon opponent, but it might fail considering the wolf in front of him seemed to be agile and strong at the sametime.

Ah well, Shadow had lots of backup plans...

Keeping to on his defensive side, Shadow kept circling, silently goading the Russian to strike.

He had to find a way of making him slip up. Have him falter. Toss aside that wall, put away that mask. Lose grip upon himself.
Perhaps something as simple as the everyday meet.
Speech.

A smirk placed itself gently on the lips of the Russian, very much so capable of mirroring the face Hadrian wore perfectly on the days he resented his company.
That smirk. The only thing he was missing was the glint, or else he could have been the red pelted mirror image of the Angelus Mortis.

"What, serebro, are you not going to deal the nakazaniye to me, that you've done to a weak devushka?"

A bark of laughter coursed through him.
Then, the gaze returned back to the sure footed Roman.

"I bet in the time we have orbited each other, what was done to the girl has already been completed...or are you saying this isn't as satisfactory to your blood lust, Silver?"

Another bark of laughter, but emeralds remained focused on the spiraling man.
He hated talking. What a waste of breath.
But was this a waste?

Shadow watched warily as the Russian smirked, seemingly the same one the Roman wore everyday to mask his emotions. A mirror image of himself. If only the other wolf had a silver pelt along with the typical Angelus Mortis glint, they would have been twins, twin brothers in every aspect. Then Vector started speaking, words were the things that could distract him, his father once taunted him in their fight and in his anger, he forgot every move he learnt and charged Aku. The punishment for that was unbearable and Shadow never forgot that again.

He learnt and the shadow of a smirk touched his own lips. "What, serebro, are you not going to deal the nakazaniye to me, that you've done to a weak devushka?" The Roman concentrated on his movements, making sure the steps were in place, piercing platinum gaze were fixed on Vector, not a word escaping his jaws. He did nothing but stare at the Russian as he laughed, "I bet in the time we have orbited each other, what was done to the girl has already been completed...or are you saying this isn't as satisfactory to your blood lust, Silver?"

The problem was Vector didn't know his weakness and therefore was not able to get through his barrier, his father was well...his father. He literally knew him inside out, Aku was able to twist his insides out and make him spit blood, just by using words. But the red agouti didn't know him well enough. When the Russian laughed once more, Shadow lunged, his eyes focusing on Vector's shoulder but aimed for his left forelimb instead, jaws widened ready to clamp on it. He withdrew as fast as lightning, the words that escaped his maw not slowing him down.

"Do you want me to call you Red?" he breathed out a reply, eyes never leaving the opponent's emeralds. "You're the one thats weak, Red. Defending a girl, a trespasser and you claim you have no love for her." He canted his head in mock amusement, yet his brain still concentrated on the battle. "And I quote, you may do whatever you wish to her, but that is an ineffective method of punishment to me. Why are you fighting for her, then? Did she seduce you with her charms?"

His voice was cold and emotionless, there was no use for emotions in battle, they only made you lose and when you lost, you died.

His nickname was now Red. Just when 'Vector' seemed to suit him, he found himself raising an ear to the color. A color he was too well aquainted with. However, his reason for it was probably a massive length of separation in difference with the Romans.
His nickname was given or his color, what made him who he was, externally. And possibly internally, for silver was a valuable thing, a worthy mineral, in human eyes. He had seen that, first hand.

Vector knew after the fight, whether e was living or not, there was be a shred of something for this wolf. Whether it be respect, or some sort of reference for the future, but this was something he would not-

The air of pristine dagger like teeth was felt just above the tips of his shoulders fur, and barely with a slice of attention, he evaded. He got away clean.
But barely.

Air hissed between his own lusty fang, a smile of satisfaction adorned on his maw.
Now the action was becoming of the duo.
The assassin, believing his talking to be what had a positive consequence, spoke again.

"I do not mind that title, Silver. But in your words, you reign correctly. I indeed am weak for fighting you for this matter. But I fight for another reason."

The fraction of a millisecond it took for the sentence to finish, Vector threw himself carefully to the right, aiming to shove the Roman. And in this instance, he did not pull back.
As he flew forward, through gritted teeth, he worded,

"Maybe I'll tell you, Serebro. Maybe, just maybe."

I think they should start getting wounds now xD

They were equally matched, it had been sometime since a wolf was a challenge to him and some part of him was well...thankful he could practice his fighting skills once more. Even though this might be a fight to the death. More thrill..he supposed. A gleam touched his stormy eyes at the thought of Vector on his side if they ever invaded Swiftcurrent Creek, the Creek wolves wouldn't even stand a chance, cept that probably ain't happening now.

Seems like they both perfected the skill of being equally good with strength and speed, perhaps not brilliant, but good. Something which could not be said for Scimitar, he was strong and muscular but he was not fast enough and that was what would kill him.

Shadow now focused on the battle, watching Vector's movements with guarded eyes, his opponent spoke again, having evaded his attack. Barely, but he still dodged it. Others would have took pride in that achievement, but he didn't. The voice of his father echoing in his head Success matters. You can't almost do something, you pathetic lump! He almost openly smiled at the words, but did not, for the red furred Russian threw himself at him. The Roman was distracted, for a second, if it had been more, it would have been instant death.

He sidestepped but was not fast enough, he was lucky for his training on winter grounds kept him on his paws. The Roman caught the Russian's words and though most of his brain was concentrating on finishing Vector off, the small part of it was contemplating the other wolf's words and coming to a final answer. He wondered...if that was it. Though his brain might be working overtime and doing a bunch of things at once, it did not slow his movements and once he evaded his blows, Shadow lunged, attempting to sink his fangs onto Vector's shoulder and strike his forepaw with his own paw at the sametime.

The Roman slid back, alabaster fangs gleaming in the winter light. "Do Russians believe in apologies?" he sneered. "If they did, I would apologize, byrrus sicarius," He gazed at his opponent with stoic indifference now, though the slightest hint of respect flitted through his silver eyes. Hadrian chose this moment to attack again, he ran straight at Vector, pretending to shove him but lowering his muzzle to attempt to sink his fangs into his left forelimb.

Shadow withdrew quickly, but managed to utter a few more words. "I was wrong not to have seen your potential," he admitted.

◆yea, you and me both. We just gotta face how hardcore our wolves are. xD◆



Vector listened to the Roman, a fault on his behalf, and one with consequences. The Russian made the mistake to looking watching for weaknesses in the Romans eyes, rather than bodily movement. So Vector was throughly stunned that he missed the deadly jaws by his shoulder, however he was unaware of the hook lined greyscale paw that sliced through the air, landing with uncanny precision near the upper half of his forelimb.
His vision flared crimson as the pain riveted his arm, but the mask he wore showed nothing besides narrowed lids and pearly teeth.
The Praetor retreated back to the safe distance, and the recon chastised himself.
This was what happened when feet weren't watched.

Words passed through the air, seeing hostile, but a lilt of the very mindset he was trying to keep away from Hadrian's honor, and that was respect. It was within the stone eyes that seared the distance between the two, and as brief as it lasted, it sniped a hole through the assassins defense.

The swift end of words was what caught Vectors attention, for it was familiar. The swift yet silent approach of the body to his own. Vector braced himself for the shove, but the way the silvers body was posted, suggested otherwise.
Again, his vision flashed a shade of red.
There were teeth in his foreleg.
In unison, both lupines leapt back, however, Vectors was moreso to prevent permanent damage to be done to his limb. Fur and skin was punctured, but no muscle was shredded.

"The question I have is,..what is an apology? I know not of such terms."

Exactly why he had made a joke, was beyond him. As much as his brain focused on several factors contributing the situation, he ignored the words that left his mouth . His mind was focused on ignoring the pain, and preventing more to come. Logicality.

Vector feinted rushing left, and curve balled to the right, his purpose to snag the velvety ear of the silver in his jaws, and shred it. While his jaws were there, his own fiery and cream layered paw snaked out from underneath him, aiming for the center of Hadrian's chest.
As he attacked, Vector spoke, the thickly accented voice within the battle scene,

"As I have seen your potential, Brat."

The Russian calling the opponent 'brother' could have been seen in Russia as treason, but here, the man allowed the term of acknowledgement to flow privately to the Roman.

Blood dripped from Vector's forearm and Shadow smiled grimly, in satisfaction inwardly. First blood. It wasn't really an important thing in a fight but the Roman always sought to get the first blood every time, it was something his father hammered into him. And it gave him a sense of new determination, the sense that he could defeat his opponent. Not that he doubted his own abilities in fighting, he had been trained by Aku Nero Angelus Mortis after all. The most sadistic, brutal fighter he had ever known, yet also one of the very best warriors he had ever known.

Shadow's second attack connected, this time he felt fresh blood flow into his mouth, staining his alabaster fangs a crimson red. But it was only one attack and it did not mean he had won the battle, a cut did not mean a battle won. A battle won did not mean a war was won. He knew that, more than a lot of wolves, having been brought up in a battle focused pack. Warfare was taught. Aku, however brutal he was, still educated his sons. Unlike some warriors, his father valued words and knowledge.

Shadow's second attack connected, this time he felt fresh blood flow into his mouth, staining his alabaster fangs a crimson red. But it was only one attack and it did not mean he had won the battle, a cut did not mean a battle won. A battle won did not mean a war was won. He knew that, more than a lot of wolves, having been brought up in a battle focused pack. Warfare was taught. Aku, however brutal he was, still educated his sons. Unlike some warriors, his father valued words and knowledge.

"The question I have is,..what is an apology? I know not of such terms." Shadow smiled crookedly, grimly but wasted no breath answering him. Better to keep his strength for fighting. After all words were used as a distraction in a fight, to get you worked up and concentrating less on the movements of your opponent.

Vector then made to rush left but suddenly curved to the right, Shadow moved quickly sideways but felt the Russian’s teeth on his ear, nicking it but not shredding it. He felt warm liquid trickling down his head but ignored it. This was nothing. He could ignore this pain, it was nothing compared to what he had experienced before. Compared to having your body literally shredded? Compared to having teeth dig into the belly for a long long time? This was heaven. Or maybe not.

Damn it, the Roman cursed inwardly as Vector's paw connected with his chest, he kept his balance however and leaped away. The blow stinging but no blood was lost and that was what mattered. "As I have seen your potential, Brat." Shadow's gaze met the Russian's for a brief moment, the word Brat seemed to have another meaning than the one in the English language, perhaps it was Russian.

"Good for you," he grunted as he charged, feinting a blow to the left forepaw but leaping upwards at the last second, gleaming alabaster fangs flashing in the winter light as he attempting to sink them deep into Vector's shoulder. Shadow leaped away a moment later just to charge in once more, barreling straight into the Russian, moving away in the last moment to nip at the back hind leg.