Sunspire Mountains And should the sky be filled with fire and smoke

@Aries

The mountain always was one of her favorite get-aways. She felt powerful ontop of the peak, like nothing could touch the fire guard, nor' could anything stand in her way. The breeze graced through her smoking pelt, as she breathed steadly, embracing the wind and the world itself.

She truly felt, she was one with wilds.

She felt, powerful.

She felt like she was a Sovereign.

The woman's aura was that of puissant regality. Such soundless empowerment led her gestures, leaning into the breeze as though it might simply bolster her along into the sky's embrace. Such vivacity in her posture, a pelage of sunsets and charcoal - he harmonized her in vigour, yet shared none of the enthusiasm.

A distant memory had stirred during his soundless observation, slithering into focus - of Tundra, the ivory shield-maiden, poised in rumination at the verge of the ridge. The refinement of her nimble disposition and the silent eloquence in which she commanded, the wordless power he felt matched his own. Where she led her steps now, the silencer could not discern. The vision began to fade, and eyes of luminiferious silver pierced the veil between the two strangers; he looked upon her with mild curiousity.

"You stand as though you command nature itself."

"I like to think there would be a day I do," arrogant, it was a key trait for the fire guard. She had confidence in her ability, to be a general, and stand above those who come before her. There was ambition, not to be a leader of a pack, but be a general amongst them. She wanted to lead warriors, be a companion, and a superior.

"I'm Orlaith," she turned to the ashen male, and greeted the fellow with a grin as she stood prominently upwards, "guard of Seelie Court. Who are you?"

With ardour did the wind alight upon their pelts – he prowled ominously upon that peak, and the gales appeared almost to plunge, as though a thousand birds dove down from their begrimed roosts to inaugurate a maelstrom amongst the clouds. An airy, yet potent wind it was, ignited with the sinistrous vitality of nature itself. Less a breeze, more a breath; perhaps the world itself was vigoured. He felt it malaxate the fur upon his face, his chest, his spine. It tousled his fallen crown and with a soundless incline of his chin, the silencer landed a glacial stare upon the fiery woman – incandescent in her demeanour.

"You and me both, then." Their intentions with such command he doubted were equal, yet minds could be alike without mirror. To her greeting, he offered in a resonant tongue --

"Aries – I follow none."

"I could offer you a place, but I have a feeling you prefer being a free spirit." She liked the atmosphere this wolf had, and the presence he simply held. Cooling, like the grays in his pelt, but a similiar fire to her own. A blue, hushed flame, but it always meant it simply was far more hot then that of a regular ember. Though arrogant, she would never express such, believing her own would always be superior.

"What brings you to these mountain, Aries?" The wolf grinned at the other, proposing a seat next to her.

She seemed to study him with glaucous eyes, absorbing his wintry flame with the searing embers of her own; a perfect divergence, yet it seemed his conceit might too mirror her own. A free spirit… he was his own master, that much remained true, yet from the chasm of his mind he wondered idly of those who had summoned his talons in former moons. He was not simply a killer, but a silencer – a forbidden knight, slayer of dead, and lurker of shadows.

They were not truly alike; appearances were inveigling, and his breath stilled as water to ice while heavy steps tugged him ever closer to the place at the fae’s side. He had blood to his name, a title stained crimson - the vermillion he'd not wash with some mirage of purity; he could pierce the flesh of her nape with incisors of iron before another breath could seek exit through ashen lips should he have desired it so.

“Nothing of interest,” he uttered coolly, glacial stare set in other-worldly detachment upon the horizon. “Yourself?”

"I simply enjoy it." It was assumed to be the highest peak, and it gave a way for her to look down toward the land. It simply felt- freeing to above all, and felt like her worries can be carried into oblivion. It was what she did her first time at the wilds, Orlaith simply screamed her anger into it's voice. 

"You lived around these parts?" She asked, wondering if the grayscale man was a native. She knew a few, including her Queen, that were natives within the land, and was curious how far history went.

“Born here,” came the response, unornamented; poured darkly from lips of ink.
 
He was bored, now – too many words, not enough action. With fervent intensity did his gaze alight once more upon the fire fae, glistening in direful luminescence. He studied her with a silent air of eldritch suspense – of sinistrous thought, as though toying with the very strings of her existence; one snip, and gone. Seconds would stretch longer with the electrified poundage of his watch, breaths steeling into the ticking of a bygone clock.

She said she was a guard, that in the beatings of her fire-born heart skulked the longings of sovereignty, of power – yet had done nothing to prove herself worthy of such potentiality.

“Now you tell me, Orlaith,” he uttered, as though umbra itself was forged upon the leather of his tongue, lurking closer as a shadow might before engulfing the last remnants of sunlight. “You say you are a guard? Spar with me,” he challenged, posture melding into that of a pernicious king, muscles twitching; yearning.

Show me.

She grinned wildly. It was never a time where Orlaith would deny a friendly spar, especially with one who seemed to be tempered by nature itself to gain where he was. She wisked herself off from the rock they laid, and backed into a flat corner, "Sure," she said later, despite already preparing.

"Bring it on buddy," while a foolishly delighted grin hung on the flaming wolf's face, she still held the proper means of a sparring stance. Her body low to the ground and balanced, but she held tail firmly tucked and ears behind. Never know what could go bad in a fight, and she did not wish to lose anything yet.

rolling here!

Black lip would tug at the corners, pleased.

Orlaith pitched low to the earth; mirrored, while the accursed knight set sight then upon her limbs – constricted, coiled like a snake before unhinging jaws and submerging prey. He would survey with vigilance – azure, melded nefariously into pools of silver, of ice and lightning, streaks of luminescence to pierce gloom and reverie alike. The silencer began to stalk, to writhe a lean frame in the space around her own; he would besiege with shadows at his nape, only to then spring forward in attempt to unbalance her.

And he struck.

Their bodies collided harshly – doubtless, prompt, his shoulder propelled unto her own, jaws agape to snap in her direction.

whoops did math wrong on the roll!
meant
orlaith's hp 13
aries's hp 15 (now)

He moved with a force of a storm. They collided like two bears against, and while his attempt to unbalance was met unsuccessful, he definitely pushed her back so and snapped at her skin. She grimanced feeling his teeth sink into her fur, but pulled through as the battle wasn't done. She snapped back, aiming for throat, anywhere neck-wise to be exact.

At the same trying to push him back, for she could feel herself edging to fall as their slope wasn't a perfect stable ground.

Storm-born; fire-wrought.

Her poise was robust, primed, and while initially he had failed to unbalance her, the shadow wraith’s incisors had met their mark – a streak of alabaster through ember-singed fur, to perforate, to seize. Striking as a viper might. His mind had played the scene unto his vision milliseconds before it happened; forecasting, yet no executioner would leave their back unwatched lest they fall casualty to the very target of their eye. She was relentless, unabating. The fire fae did not hesitate to lurch pearlescent teeth back toward him – his neck, where she would meet ashen pelt and flesh beneath. A mirrored arrow, incessant and afire.

The ground beneath them was unstable, that much was evident, and he backed up slightly to grant her space – fissured pads against unfastened rock, the silencer could hardly have his temporary combatant plummet from the ledge to her demise below. A body, strewn against serrated cornerstone.

Still, though, he pressed on, writhing from her grip as a shadow; present one second, absent the next. A phantom, as he slid from her only to dart to her side – claws poised in threat of some malignant embrace. A test - of strength and reflex alike.

Successfully gotten so, she weared and teared, a wild beast trying to take hold. Her intent was not tear flesh but to bring him down. Both in height and weight were mighty, and clocked at a tie. It was simple luck she thought, and hoped it would be on her side. Though he came back with the same, constant biting and grappling, piercing between her fur to lunge onto flesh.

But she slipped, her paw seemed to slide to the floor as she was nearly tumbling to her side, but refused to relent on her grip from his neck. Perhaps hanging, if she managed to stay afloat.

apologies for the wait! <3

Anchored.

The flame had latched herself to pock-marked skin as he lurched, incisors clung to flesh and fur; a sonorous growl was summoned from his throat as she dangled, sunset skidding perilously from cragged rock. It was not just the fire guard lurking above a fathomless plunge, but Aries too – where her jaws had tethered to his hide, her weight tugged him forward, incessant tears marring at his skin. Forward, ever-etching toward the ledge—

A bestrewing of stone tumbled, shattered and echoed at the mountain’s bed.

Snapping his jaws again, hefty paws steeled upon the rock beneath, bidding his body to still; if stone yearned to fall, it would surely not fall alone. They could not linger here until the sun slept, his weight could not keep them afloat for long. The phantom king tugged backward, heaving his body and writhing like a snake to dissuade her grappled jaws; still, he attempted to pull them both back, should gums and their canines remain lodged by his throat. Her demise could very well mirror his own.

Heart pounded upon ferric ribs – war-drums, awaked. He thrived in moments like this, the threat of death at their spines.

A flame to the darkness, like two elements crashing together. They both ventured to the edge, swords clashing and growls emerging, and pushed themselves back to the frontlines of the earth. She could feel his fangs clash amongst her pelt, and likewise did try to collide her fangs to his flesh, tugging and pulling.

Though their clash couldn't last forever, and she tried to use her mass to push him down. Her head downwards, fangs clasped shut and a singular dart toward his head to push downwards in a fashion of defeat. She hoped enough force could bring the gray titan downwards for the kill (win).