Dragoncrest Cliffs i thought i was different but it seems i’m just the same

They arrive. Étoille's gaze sweeps impassively over the approaching numbers, landing, finally, on Caiaphas. He remembers her still, her arrival at Blackfeather with Arrille -- though in the end, as he recalls, she was not much of a threat to him. Of more concern to him is the number of children on both sides -- he lingers on the one trembling and pissing himself, feeling a frown turn his mouth -- but there is little time to think for the black-capped siren rushes forward toward heda and everything breaks loose. 

For once the brute does not hesitate, flinging himself after Easy in the direction of @Svalinn -- not to bite but to knock him off course with his rather inpenetrable form. Given that, despite his size, he is not a particularly skillful warrior, Étoille does not make many moves towards causing harm so much as being an annoying obstacle to allow Drageda's child warriors more of a chance to get their hits in. We'll see how that works out for him.

From the cliffside where Mallaidh, Blixen and Opalia dropped their shrieking enemy to the ground, a wild-eyed Ephraim was running as fast as his legs could carry him. The nagging pain in his neck where Eurycrates had torn into him threatened to send him to his knees once or twice. Somehow, he kept his feet, though he no longer felt in control of his own body. Lightning illuminated the dark forest in front of him; for a second he thought every shadow was a leering wolf and his heart lodged in his throat. So many enemies. But they were just trees, after all.

It took time to get there, but the distance was relatively short and now there were wolves ahead; the sound of snarling and clashing teeth warned Ephraim before he arrived. He screeched to a halt at the edge of the scene for a split second, attempting to take it all in, but all this did was collapse his psyche even more. Despite wanting to be a tactician and despite imagining all kinds of scenarios just like this where he emerged a strategic hero, Ephraim didn't have the maturity or experience yet to be able to keep his head in all the chaos. There was blood-smell everywhere and his head was spinning and he couldn't make any sense of what he was seeing. He was scared shitless, and lurched into a panic-stricken run toward the only wolf whose face he could even recognize: Heda

He zoned in on just her, or tried to, but a flurry of movement in his periphery caught his attention instead. A cream puff of a juvenile wolf and a cinnamon-shot woman, headed toward a silver bullet and someone that looked a lot like Etoille (but was actually Silkie). With an awful cry that combined the petrified fear of a child facing the reality of violence with the fury of seeing his pack threatened, Ephraim streaked across the battlefield with his sights set on @Svalinn's left hind leg, blind to both Etoille and Easy also advancing. He intended to rive that leg and reduce it to a bloody pulp, and so madly intent was he on this wild, frenzied charge that his saliva began to froth in his mouth.

It was the dark-headed woman headed their way, because of course it was. He stepped up close to Eastwood, guarding the parts of Heda that his nephew could not. Together, they formed a wall of muscled flesh around their leader, daring Blackhead to come closer.

Seriously, try it. Bounce the fuck off all the way back into the hell you came from.

Vercingetorix snarled, eyes flashing hot blue and silver, teeth bared and ready to rip the flesh from Caiaphas's old bones.

Wyatt rolled a 9/10 for major damage, lol. So... I'm thinking fractured ribs (3—4) and a deep laceration on his chest that will get infected? Your input is welcomed, @Tux!

 

Wyatt collapsed under Tux's impact; he's no match for Drageda's Rauna. He landed on his back, a-la Lion King style, with a winded oof. 

Once on his back, Wyatt wastes no time in driving his counter-attack—instinct demands his rebuttal. With his claws unsheathed, Wyatt jabbed his paws upward in an attempt to inflict any damage that he can. His inexperience is evident; his belly and throat were left defenseless.

comin in from this thread, they're approaching from the side

it takes more effort than you'd think to drag @Raleska along, even with @Mallaidh and blix both carrying her and @Opalia taking up the rear. her ears are ringing from adrenaline, memory fragmented into movements -- rushing into the brute, throwing the girl to the ground, the blur of furi around her. her face stings from where the girl got a few good hits in -- she lingers on that feeling to ground herself. 

there is sound and fury up ahead, the wolves from the sound locked in battle with drageda. blix seeks out nomi with her eyes, finds her dancing with caiaphas with verx and eastwood. looking at furi she stops, close enough to be seen and heard but far enough that if the sound lot decides to converge on top of them they won't be immediately swallowed up. she spits out the girl's leg, shoving a paw on top of her (but mostly relying on furi to maintain her hold) and shouts: "hey, fuckers, this belong to you?"

Adrenaline doesn’t slow the course of her body even when they’ve gotten a good rhythm, forcing the smaller wolf through the redwoods and out the other side where Heda has called for them. Mallaidh doesn’t really know where she’s going and uses Blixen solely as direction and Opalia to keep an eye out as they shuffle. She’s able to steel some of her nerves through the rhythmic steps but panic still sits deep inside. She tries her hardest not to think about the dead wolf they left behind.

She hears the battle before she sees it, focused on keeping the Rusalka wolf still in their grasp. When the front end becomes loose as Blixen lets her go and shouts, Mallaidh steels her grip against her scruff and looks up for the first time to see all the commotion.

keeping things vague because i am not sure if caiaphas' attack in her last post hit? it doesn't read like it was addressed so i will leave the result super vague and let you guys work it out.

also, will mention her getting injuries here since my last post was her attacking (and can edit details on who did what later). the serious injuries caiaphas obtains in this post: ripped in half ear, and large laceration across trapezius (neck). this round commences Rusalka's retreat, to prevent things from stretching out for weeks.  edit: added names for clarity

true as any arrow, the fiend flew to her destination -- a few bags of standing meat-shields would not hinder her (eastwood). she was moving, fast -- and they were standing still on guard. momentum was the true method of war and any embittered battle-hound knew being caught still on your feet was the same as being dead in the water - the shrew used this to her advantage, a wicked cackle slung from her hungering mouth.


rounding upon them at her hellish pace, it was easy enough to feint and parry in her attempt to reach antumbra (attack from last post), and then just as artfully, the master warrior's true skill in battle shined -- for the teeth (and their several owners) that aimed on her would be enough to rip flesh and leave fresh welts of blood rising rosily on her pale pelt, but not enough to pin the hostile creature down. she would be heavily bloodied, but not seized.

oh, those cuts and lacerations would sting -- her ear would be in tatters and a gaping line of membrane and subcutaneous tissue would be exposed along her neck -- but for now, caiaphas was as furious as a harpy rounding on her victims. dacio's attack had been side-lined by the approach of svalinn, but caiaphas' pelt bore plenty of evidence of drageda rebellion.

erzulie and co should have made their exit, but as caiaphas pulled from the snarling fray she caught a flash of gold (svalinn) that had trailed behind, and then a dark-helmed shadow pursuing after, hurling towards svalinn like a thrust spear.  she did not pause as she aimed for ephraim, attempting to grasp the back of his neck and throw him from svalinn like the cur he was. for him, her efforts were somehow tempered and her actions almost gentle (if you could call grabbing someone by the scruff and trying to throw them gentle) -- but fury still pounded ferociously in her mind, and she redirected her wrath elsewhere. no doubt erzulie would be close behind; if she, svalinn, illidan, and erzulie kept to their whirling warpath, they would be difficult to pin down.

in a matter of seconds the chaos was upended even further, for a new group of wolves had dragged caiaphas' squalling daughter onto the scene. harshly breathing, the siren executed a pirouette away from any aimed teeth, her expression cold and without pity for the girl that had managed to become overwhelmed. her lips crinkled in a snarl of disgust and she delivered a sniping reply: "you have three things that belong to us -- the wolf you stupidly stole to start this war, her," her narrow muzzle canted towards the pinned raleska before her hawk-yellow gaze pursued ephraim: "and him --"  her lips curled back in an expression of high contempt as she glanced upon the wayward ephraim, lost now to the drageda dogs.

even now, amidst the whirling cacophony of battle, it was unmistakable the familial resemblance - caiaphas, illidan, raleska, ephraim -- all three bore the imperious helm of eyjolfur blood, and even a stranger could have connected from their physical similarities their relation.

if it did her some good to know one of her children was alive, it was not visible; and long ago she had sealed her hardened heart from new injuries. ephraim had been dead since the day of the storm -- and this child, attacking his kin, was no blood of hers.

she prowled, sizing up the wolves that had congregated. it was highly unlikely they would be able to talk their way from escaping, but they could fight -- and a bulk of the wolves around them were young or inexperienced. she smiled assuredly, a grim and wicked sight in the tangle of war, and then spoke. "keep him." caiaphas then shoved svalinn hard, and then lunged towards the pair that held down her daughter.

at such hellbent speed, her teeth would sink into anything and rip, but not last -- the motion was meant to drive the wolves back and allow her own wolves to spill out in escape.

tl;dr
attack 1 - pull ephraim from svalinn
attack 2 - attack mallaidh/blix so raleska can escape

injuries obtained: cuts on his right cheek/jaw from Erzulie; large tears on left side of neck from Svalinn
attacks: bite in direction of Erzulie's face; aiming to attack Svalinn's right hindquarter/flank

The world around him blurred in slow motion, his gaze focused only on the black-headed witch whose path he made to intercept. He could not hear the thunder that boomed in the distance, the wind that whipped through the trees, nor the footfalls of his comrades who swiftly followed. Only the hot thrum of blood in his ears to accompany the frantic beat of his young, frightened heart.

Grey-green eyes fixed to the toxic yellow of Caiaphas' own and as he veered closer in attempt to distract the beast on her route to Drageda's leader, another moved to obstruct him. He fixed his sights to the cinnamon wench then, adrenaline soaring as he took note of Silkie's support, and swung his raven-tipped crown to meet her fangs with his own.

Erzulie's bite left its mark on his right cheek, but the pain did not set in at once. Rainwater flushed the fresh wound, streaking his own blood along his jaw and neck, and he clacked his teeth furiously toward whatever part of her he might reach. His haste in reaching her was his first mistake; Dacio did not see the golden bullet come swiftly from the left.

The unexpected force of Svalinn's attack knocked the young warrior to the ground with a surprised yelp. There, he was most vulnerable with two Rusalka devils upon him, and the terror in his eyes was clear as he writhed beneath the other youth's grip on his neck with fearful and gurgling snarl. Everything that followed went by so fast: Blackbear making to obstruct the brown she-devil, a pale figure that wasn't Silkie who buffetted the blonde boy away, and Ephraim coming in from behind the raiders to join the fray.

Dizzy, afraid, angry and with the burn of his war wounds finally kicking in, the ashen youth sucked in a breath and pulled himself onto wibbly limbs at once. Saliva frothing, seething with rage, and with Ephraim distracting the wolf who sought to harm him with an attack of his own, Dacio turned on Svalinn without thought and aimed his bite directly for an exposed flank.

The awful black-crowned cur made another appearance, throwing herself among the group and making to yank Ephraim from the outnumbered golden child. Dacio curled his lip at her, tongue flicking dangerously over bared incisors, though the arrival of others had him following Caiaphas' gaze toward them. He squinted through the rain and looked upon the unmistakable form of his sister, and sheathed his fangs.

The coywolf barked something about what belonged to her, but there was no time to make sense of what she said as she pointed her hideous snout in Ephraim's direction. Dacio remained on edge, lingering with bloodied hackles raised should anyone seek to come at him again, and saw red once more as Caiaphas made a beeline toward Blixen and co. He shot after her, but she was far quicker on her feet than he could ever be, and could only hope that no harm would come to Opalia.

Silkie comes away from his first taste of true combat with a small, paper-thin victory — a tattered scrap of velveteen. Blood runs from his mouth, painting his muzzle a virulent crimson that appears vantablack in @Antumbra’s shadow. Despite his reluctance to lose it, he spits out his prize — a modest slice of the witch’s [@Caiaphas’] pinna — and seeks his next target, moving in a smooth, fluid semicircle to flank Drageda’s more seasoned warriors. @Tux seems to be doing well on his own, so Silkie’s next instinct is to rush to @Dacio’s aid — but a mottled, heavily-muscled female he doesn’t know [@Easy] beats him to the punch and is followed up by his biological father [@Étoillee] and brother-in-arms [@Ephraim]. The idea that Drageda’s Skayona “belongs” to this motley assortment of wretches is laughable — but Silkie sees the snippy rejoinder for what it is: a pithy retort in the face of the trespassers’ imminent defeat. In the blink of an eye, he lunges toward @Firefly alongside his older brother [@Artaax], jaws cracking wide as he feints right and then dives in low to try to nab one of the male’s legs between his teeth. At the very least, he hopes to help distract or trip the male up to give Artaax the advantage; but if he does manage to make contact he’ll attempt to hold onto the older wolf’s appendage.

should still be within my 48 hrs to respond - sum of attacks will be below my post

the boy was overwhelmed within moments. fangs flashed around him and wolves dove into battle without any regard for their own well-being. it did not take long before illidan caught the scent of blood on the air as it dripped from the wild fiends of war. though he had taken a stance to prepare himself for battle, there had been none who had darted to meet him. he watched as several brutes took to svalinn with great interest – how could they pride themselves as warriors when so many attacked the youngest member? his mother ripped through what she could, but he could not help himself from peering at her fretfully, fur bristling along his neck and shoulders.

still, none of the cliff wolves took an interest in him.

that was until he saw the sandy boy enter the battle. the wolf who radiated with familiarity to the point that illidan wondered if he was dreaming. ephraim was unmistakable; the wildling had done everything that he could to remember the features of the brother who had pulled their family apart. he had forced the image of his brother into his mind every night after the death of their father, and he had harbored resentment for every memory that had passed through his dreams.

if he thought that he would have escaped there without testing his fangs with the body of another, he was wrong. ephraim dove for svalinn, and illidan found himself snapping against the restraint of his fear. he did not hear the warning of his mother or see that raleska had been pulled from nowhere and held aloft like a taunting prize. all illidan saw was ephraim, and the means to enact his revenge for all of the turmoil that he blamed on his brother. so, he dove forward with gaping jaws and a savage snarl and aimed to latch his teeth against the flesh of his kin without remorse.

i read carefully through everyone's posts and it seemed no-one aimed for illidan, so i need to get him in a scuffle somehow:
he has seen ephraim attack svalinn and is aiming to strike against ephraim's shoulder

With Blixen, Mallaidh, and the unfortunate Rusalka screecher in tow, they made their way to Heda while Opalia followed close, eyes peeled for more strangers appearing from the shadows. Her hackles were stuck upwards, alongside a choppy, anxious gait as they went--and so far, none had bothered them. She was still painfully aware of her heart racing, the sting on the side of her head, and the much worse wounds on her packmates.. but, she knew they had to keep going until the battle was over.

They had come so far already, and while triumph had not had any time to set in entirely, she was feeling her confidence growing somewhere in the midst of all the unknown.

However the scene they found when they arrived definitely startled her, but she moved close to Mallaidh to help keep the young wolf in their grasp with a firm paw. Her worries began to return, adrenaline and fear mixed well, yet this was a lot..

So many wolves, so many intruders, too, and she did not even have a chance to take in the full scale of this fight before a fragment of it all came rushing towards them. Opalia barred her teeth and hunkered defensively over their capture. She knew there was no anticipating what was going to come next, however; the black-faced wolf was already bloodied, and coming awfully fast.

Others had already reached the heart of the fray well before him. Rusalka kept coming, but Drageda met them in turn.

The tangle of chaos near Heda had his focus, first, naturally. But when more Drageda joined that vicinity, he began to skim for all else, and the bigger picture--because he did not intend to have them overlook anything even in this outright mess that had erupted around them. He smelled blood, urine--fear, and struggle, too. With a glimpse he saw Artaax quartering off a stranger from the rear, and while it was tempting to run down the familiar face of the accented woman he had already seen off from their boundaries once (a thought that would be intensified knowing she swung for his son then too), he trusted those close to Heda to have that under control as well before he was another body in the mess of it. Between the barriers Vercingetorix and Eastwood presented, plus Tux, Easy, Etoille, and Ephraim adding in.. on top of Silkie, Dacio, and Heda there. He didn't doubt them an ounce.

Things changed when Blixen and Mallaidh (and Opalia) arrived with another wolf, who evidently struck as familiar to the black-capped coywolf Rusalka followed, if her words were of anything to trust. Pending this turn of events, he pivoted away from the main fray of battle and gathered his strides after her to potentially intercept the shit she was sure to start there. She went quick for the newly arrived group and so he chased after, flattened out with teeth first, before more hell could break out around her. Dacio was coming hot on her heels too, he realized a little belatedly, while Dio's approach came more perpendicular; their end-goal was the same however: Caiaphas, and hopefully before she could reach Blixen, Mallaidh, and Opalia.

read through everything twice so get @ me if i miss anything. injuries include facial/head lacerations and slashes to her left haunch down to the muscle

drumbeats, heartbeats. her teeth drew first blood from @Dacio; his resultant snap opened an answering welter across the bridge of her muzzle. however, before the chai-tea creature can soar for him a second time, the impact of a second drageda cur slammed her away from the first: a large-boned, dark demon of a wolfess. 
chin lowered to protect her throat, erzulie braced her legs against the churned earth and felt the pain of a wound opening behind her ear. the agony turned to rage, anger for their failure, for whatever had continued to keep rosalyn from them; she was silent as she lunged for her sable attacker, a curving strike that aimed to drag scarlet from the side of the other's nape.
a dirge, caiaphas' voice rang out and erzulie ripped herself back and back to hear the last of the seawitch's words. 
a retreat. 
with a last snap in the ursine she-wolf's direction, the harlot whirled to follow the sheen of caiaphas' bloodied hide toward the new drageda creatures. raleska —! and quickly she tallied the number of enemies streaking after the woman who led rusalka. 
the ivory-gold of the wocha's pelt flared in her eyeline; erzulie knew drageda followed, and veered after the powerful @Dio, seeking to flank him and cut her teeth into his shoulder as a way of dissuading him from caiaphas before the crone could reach her child.
a last prayer to the loa guttered grimly from her lips.

Didn't have a lot of time to write today put wanted to get in before my turn was up. Shoot me a message if I missed something. :)

It happens quickly. Somehow, she gets through their barrier of hulking mass (though not without bloodshed) and they clash, a titan and scoundrel. She is nothing more than a pain in her side (quite literally, actually, as skin tears away with a snap of teeth), but Caiaphas squirms out from beneath them like she’s been coated in bacon grease.

The next several seconds happen just as fast and she turns, slamming into another wolf (she doesn’t get a good look) and quickly shuffles back to reorient herself just as their enemy bolts for Blixen and Furi, both covered in blood with Opalia in the background. And a wolf at their grasp.

Are there others coming from all sides of their territory? Her daughter and her friend came out on top with the Rusalka wolf, but what about the others? She glances back in the fray as a child slams into Ephraim and the cinnamon woman (Erzulie) charges for Dio. In the dark, the anger of the storm, she can’t account for all her wolves but she does not have time to figure it out—they’re all trained for this, built from fire and wrought from the sea—as she chases after Caiaphas, stifled by the toss of the golden child.

i don't even know what i wrote, so slap me if there's a problem

Artaax didn't slow down as he sped into the fray towards @Firefly, not even as a new wolf materialized alongside him. He had no idea who it was, but quickly enough discerned they shared the same objective. He saw Silkie move right out of the corner of his eye and made to adjust accordingly. Though when the white lion smashed into Firefly, it was without regard to where or what his younger brother had accomplished prior to impact.

Teeth flared and cut, bodies smashed and fell, including Artaax's. He felt Firefly under him as he slammed them both into the ground and rolled. His vision was blurred as he untangled himself and spun, ignoring his own bruises and the blood to lash out at his enemy again with the intent of keeping him down. The arrival of reinforcements went unnoticed, as did the movements of his other packmates. There was only himself, his enemy, and the fire of his desire to protect.

He saw the dark-faced woman charging towards them and braced for the impact, readying himself to attack. East lunged for the Rusalka wolf just as she reached them, but she managed to get through he and his uncle despite their best efforts to keep her from Heda. His packmate (Silkie) jumped up to meet her just as she reached antumbra, taking a good chunk from her ear. It did little to slow her, though, and she was soon locked in battle with Heda.

There were many things happening at once, and East was unsure at first where he was needed most. By now, the hooded woman and Antumbra had ceased fighting, and he turned as she began to speak about what they had that belonged to Rusalka. He was confused about her claim on Ephraim, clearly unaware that they were related. Then she was taking off towards Mallaidh and Blixen, and East sprinted after her, unable to just watch as she moved towards the pair and wanting to be there offer backup.

Teeth tore painfully at the back of her neck, and she heard rather than felt as something came loose at the back of her head. The sound was enough to send strange echos of jittery pain down to the tips of her toes, but she kept at her quarry, snapping right back and delivering wounds to Erzulie that I can't really remember about. Definitely wounds though. Please decide.

The tiny harridan had slipped past them. Easy did some more fighting. I have no idea what is going on anymore.

Probably not my turn, but I wanted to have Firefly react to his assailants. Everything is pretty vague to make it easier for everyone, lmao.

The battle erupted around him, and within no time at all he was set upon by snapping teeth and blugeoning bodies. Firefly did not have as much combat experience as his scarred body might've suggested. He was a survivor more than a warrior, however, when one pale body careened for him and ducked against him for a low assault [@Silkie] he reacted defensively and caught the brunt of the blow with his chest; this sent him off-balance for a split second, giving the second attacker the advantage. When those duo-toned eyes flashed above a set of determined teeth, Firefly knew he had made a mistake. His attacker's teeth [@Artaax] sank in to him and then tore away at the tough scar tissue already in place, only to grab and drag again, again, again, and with each successful blow the man's dark fur took on an auburn gleam. He roared and countered the assaults as best he could with his own parries of teeth and posturing, throwing his weight against his assailants until he'd broken free of one of them — maybe both of them, there was no way for him to tell as his adrenaline kicked in. Firefly should've withdrawn but he refused, finding himself in a berzerker-rage as flashes of his previous trauma surfaced; triggered by the combat around him (and the wounds to his body), his conciousness splintered and fell away, and he was filled with a blackness, a void-space, while some feral part of him took hold.

Svalinn, for all his tacit youth, was a trained and thick-bodied savage; titles earned and proven as he managed to forcefully pin his intended target by the neck - rendering his opponent bloodied and temporarily disarmed. But he had no time to savor in the minor battle victory as he felt his grip loosened, and the air knocked out of him, by a solid blow from something large and immovable.

The boy struggled to stay upright as his lighter body was flung sideways; the force of his second foe inadvertently turning him towards a third, who had come full tilt from behind. He faced this helmeted adversary blindly - reacting instinctively towards the vicious approach with an equally nefarious reponse, reacting from a store of willpower that was just as primeval as their desires to protect their own comrades. Their head-on meeting was brief, if at all truly injurious, given how chaotically they tangled, and just as he was being relinquished of the needling attacker (by mother and brother, simultaneously), he felt his first victory come back to literally bite him in the ass.

The Eyjolfur yowled, rounding back on the sterling youth with a vengeance, before most of the fighting seemed to still for the presentation of Raleska; captured. Like Rosalyn. He didn't register any speaking at first. He was transfixed with his sister and her bloodworn assailants. He went rigid with fear and rage, and it took a mighty shove from his mother to put his mind into gear once more. Onlookers might have misinterpreted the scene, but Svalinn was a weapon fashioned of Caiaphas' will, and he responded to her severity as she intended

He charged at his sister's captors, snapping and shoving to hopefully make a path for their intended flight. His main goal was to get a hold of and shield Raleska on the way out, so he focused on attaching himself to her and repelling anything that sought to keep her with righteous, toothy fury.

Heedless of all that went on around him, Ephraim collided with Svalinn and sliced through with the keen accuracy of a katana. His enemy was large and fashioned similar to Vercingetorix, and Ephraim had learned much from training with the Cheka. His adversary's blood and his own from a wide slash that bloomed beneath his eye splashed his muzzle and then he was buffeted aside, but he didn't know how or why; all he knew was a searing pain exploding in his nape where Eurycrates' wound was, and then he bore witness to a most horrifying scene.

As his panicked gaze swept across those closest to him, searching for an ally or someone else to attack, Ephraim watched as their features bubbled and slid sickeningly away. Soon they were all just grey bodies without faces, just blank expressions, clashing together with clangs of thunder. Ephraim's blood was pounding in his ears, the only sound he could hear, as they slipped back against his skull. He couldn't tell friend from foe and he felt like he was floating above his own body with no hands on the wheel. He moved without any conscious thought as he dissociated from himself. Everything said fell on deaf ears. He bolted—escaping some other faceless wolf's reaching jaws by coincidence and speeding away—and then threw himself into the side of the nearest wolf, thinking them an enemy.

All of them looked like enemies, with their empty faces and their coiled muscles. But the wolf he slammed into with snarling jaws was no enemy—they were rightfully fleeing from their failure—instead it was a featureless @Easy he sought to rend with his teeth.

this is the last post from me; after this, @Antumbra is free to PP Verx to do whatever. sorry for not acknowledging previous attack--was confused. addressed it now!

Caiaphas packed a powerful punch. He should have known, but he was still shocked when the woman bore down on him in a fury, slashing through his and Eastwood's defenses, hungry for their leader's blood. He tried his best to keep her at bay and felt despair as she found Antumbra, and the two women clashed. Verx nipped at her, blood streaming from various wounds that littered his body.

And then, suddenly, she was gone. Barrelling toward Ephraim; he felt his muscles ache, wanting desperately to protect his brother-in-arms from the witch's assault but knowing that his place was by Heda's side. Then Blixen and Mallaidh arrived, with a girl in tow--oh, what the fuck? What the fuck was happening?

Three things. Two apparent, and a third. . . Verx's stomach dropped as her gaze landed on Ephraim once more. His eyes darted back and forth between the two; there was no mistaking the resemblance. Would she hurt him? He bared his teeth in reflex at Blackhead, continuing to shield Heda should she strike again.

Keep him. Oh, we will, you cunt, Vercingetorix muttered; it would have been louder, had his voice not been hoarse from the snarling.

Everything else was of no consequence--he would protect Heda, even as he bled, his vision growing blurry from exhaustion and adrenaline. The others could handle things well enough.

Keeping things vague since Tux is on PPC. Please skip me moving forward!

 
Wyatt and Tux scuffled, and Rusalka's newest recruit would get his ass kicked. In time (many, many posts away), once he realized that his packmates began to flee, Wyatt fought through the tangle of claw and fang to free himself. He ran as fast as he could, as pain overcame him entirely. 

Wyatt had made it out alive, if just barely.

sorry this is short -- lmk if i miss anything!! -- just wanted to make sure i got in here on time

well, it got her attention, at least. blix feels her lips tug back, caiaphas' words passing through her ears without really registering (when has she ever been good at listening?). she doesn't have long to dwell on them anyway, since the siren queen lunges toward them, flanked by the shining golden child. eastwood trails her, but blixen isn't interested in defending their quarry; one captive is enough of a logistical nightmare, she didn't really plan on holding onto raleska for long (not that she'd really planned anything at all beyond "get their attention" and "probably make them retreat somehow").

she doesn't have time to catch furi's gaze or try to communicate with her -- trusting her to make good choices, blixen flings herself toward caiaphas, eager to meet her teeth to teeth. the scuffle is not long-lived -- if she gets some blood she considers it a victory -- the useless girl is whisked away by, in her opinion, her very good mercy. later there will be time to assess/address, right now the fleimkepa's main goal is ensuring rusalka's retreat.

I was waiting for Mallaidh to post since I didn't want to PP her and she is the one holding Raleska, but squeezing this in since I saw it's going to be closed out. Please let me know if I should edit anything.

She had been dragged, all dignity left behind, right into the fray. Her sides hurt, her neck stung, and her eyes were misted with unshed tears as her captors plowed her through fen and thicket, uncaring of their cargo's well-being.

Like a prized bull she was thrown down, her body limp as dust rose around her. Eurycrates. She thought of the violent arc of red to flutter into the air when his throat had been ripped from him, the way he had slumped to the ground, eyes wide as if beholding some ancient wonder.

The girl shut her eyes tight, feeling Mallaidh's paw to her throat.

When she opened them, her red captor had left her side, and Raleska drew back in horror, for a full-fledged fight, blood and all, was unwinding before her. She choked back a cry as she saw her family and the Rusalkans fighting tooth and claw through the gathered wolves, eyes and teeth flashing as they went.

She knew she would have to run soon, and as her mother and two brothers swung towards her with a snarling entourage in tow, Raleska did what came naturally: she fought for her own damn life.

She swung her jaws towards the wolf that held her down, her teeth going for limb - and with a desperate heave borne of survival's natural distress, wrenched free of Mallaidh's imposing grip. She managed to gather her ground just as the stampede of snarling wolves swung towards her - and with another cry Raleska was swept up by her mother and brothers, and carried beyond the reach of Drageda.

Rusalka suffered many wounds that night, but none worse than Eurycrates. As Raleska hobbled between Svalinn and Illidan, she kept her eyes to the ground, her sobs stifled and permitted to never once leave her body.

i was given permission to wrap this up <3 kept things vague! please let me know if anything needs to be changed. i'm going to archive this so we can clean it out of all our threadlogs.

ephraim did not have the courage to stand and fight. of course, illidan did not know the strange fog that had been cast over his brother's fragile mind. war was a wild thing. still, he did not think to venture so far as to expect that to be the reason that the sandy sibling fled into the crowd of cliff wolves. all it meant was illidan was granted a momentary superiority over his blood relation who had forgotten them and joined the enemy. it had given him a moment to realize just how little they needed ephraim.

so, in spite of his anger and resentment, the wildling did not pursue. he was not foolish enough to throw himself into the midst of their entire pack to see what they would spit back out. no, he watched as the sandy figure darted away and slammed into... an unfamiliar shape. it was in this moment that illidan realized there was no use in attempting to get his revenge. he was better off, anyway. even with the looming presence of the drageda wolves, he was better off.

rusalka did not succeed, but their wolves turned away from the battle and slunk back to the guarded beach below. he hoped that they had made an impression, at least. he hoped that there was a tick of worry in the minds of the drageda wolves whenever they might look at their prisoner. though it pained him to think that they had failed to retrieve the woman they had sought to reclaim, he knew that they had at least done something. so, they left for home – a little worse for wear than when they had arrived.