Redtail Rise Savin’ his Pennies for someday

She looked to each of them- to Masque, to see quiet acceptance. To Relic, whose stark gaze flicked to Ancelin, painted with blood. Ancelin, she saw, did not challenge her. She accepted this as a show of deference from them both- that neither would object if she was to win the title. 

The last to move, would be Redd, though she did so with something Lilia interpreted as reluctance. She did not step forward boldly, bravely, or with the same authority that Lilia had, so she studied Redd's features for a moment to understand her intentions. 

Was she only stepping forward because she'd rather anyone be Berserkr but Lilia? No...There was no coldness in the gaze that met hers. Once the others stepped back into a ring, Lilia began to wonder if this was simply an opportunity for her to prove herself. Even if Redd didn't want the title (which was what Lilia expected, given that Redd was Ulfr, not Bjern,) she'd stepped forward to give Lilia someone to fight against. While the others moved, Lilia regarded Redd with a faint trace of appreciation in her eyes. 

Many times before they had sparred- and even when Lilia lost her temper, Redd had remained cool. In victory or in defeat, Redd had been graceful, and that had had a significant effect on Lilia, teaching her how to cool her ego, whether it had been stoked or broken. Often, they'd shared a meal afterwards. She decided, then, as the other wolves turned in to observe, that regardless of the outcome...They would hopefully get to feast together once more. 

She envisioned herself as Prophet; how he might move, how he might regard his opponent. They were built differently, and yet she thought she could feel how he might have felt, to have had a challenger. Moreover, she had to imagine she was challenging Prophet, as none ever had, to her knowledge. Desperately, she wanted to prove herself, and fulfill the role that the man had left. A role she would not abandon, if only she could seize it by proving her skill. 

She dipped her head to Redd, an acknowledgement that she was ready to begin- and watched for her opponent to do the same, before she lunged forward and roared, hackles flown and tail raised. With her fur standing on end, the long scars from a lynx's claws down each shoulder, her prized epaulettes, became visible. She submitted to the trance-like fury she'd seen Prophet possess. Tiny veins in the whites of her eyes grew, surrounding the icy blue of her iris in a bloodshot ring. She simmered with adrenaline, and lunged toward Redd with all fond memories of their past forgotten; jaws opened wide and snapping as she aimed for a spot high on the girl's neck, near her jawline.