Ankyra Sound [VS] don't want no sugar in my coffee; makes me mean

They were running out of time. News travelled fast among the small group, especially so because they were on high-alert for dangers; so when Firefly learned that Grezig's children had finally arrived, he felt only further pressure to escape with his own ilk. They were still unborn, still possibly in danger, and Firefly was growing impatient.

The last thing that he needed came only hours after the season's first Rusalkans were born - a howl from his ally, alerting the pack that @Rosalyn had stepped down from her post. That which he bestowed upon her. It was the last thing he expected, and the first to boil his blood since the skirmish. 

He wasted no time, and sought her out - furious, and evidently so, with the crushing weight of his defiant steps upon the sand. He bayed a call to where he presumed both Erzulie and her redcoat were hiding, and paced in wait for Rosalyn to make herself known - to explain herself.

She wasn't overly interested in talking about her decision, or the reasons behind it.  They were private and she held them close, even from @Erzulie, who now had her turn with soft reluctance to talk.

When Firefly sought an audience, though, she knew she couldn't ignore it. She didn't owe him an explanation, but she did owe him the chance to speak his mind.  And maybe, perhaps, part of a reason.

When she came into sight, she didn't approach tentatively, but didn't speak either.  Instead she simply stopped and waited, unsure what to expect but assuming from his tone it wouldn't be pleasant.

She came to him without a word, in her own time. That was probably one of the more frustrating things about Rosalyn. The fact that she had to do everything her way, the entire pack be damned in the process. She wasn't leadership material and in realizing this, perhaps he should've let his rage subside a bit. But instead, Firefly felt himself grow bolder still; he barely let her approach before he let loose with his commentary.

First you get pissed off when I take the crown from Caiaphas so I make you lead next to me - but now you're throwing that back in my face too? What, things get a little hard so you can't take it? Are you that afraid of the fucking Dragedans, or are your hormones out-of-whack? The man was bristling and pacing still, more than ready to pound her in to the dirt to make himself feel better, but thank the fates she was so heavy with child --- I can't believe you'd step aside now when I need support the most; how the fuck am I supposed to take care of all these people -- and my kids -- on my own? Fuck!

His final word was punctuated with a snarl as he punched the dirt with a step or two; Firefly was acting like a foolish yearling and he knew it, but he also knew that there had been too much pressure on him from the beginning, and without support he was going to drown himself in the stress of it all. He had agreed to live here, not die here too.

She listened as he ripped in without any preface.  Her ears (or, rather, ear) tipped back but her expression remained stony and somewhat thoughtful.  She was determined not to give a rise, and for the first time in weeks, she felt level.  He, on the other hand, didn't seem to be on that vibe.

Honestly? I don't remember why I thought it was such a good idea in the first place. Lie.  She did remember, but now, she realized just how stupid her fears had been.  There was no way in any world he'd be able to accomplish the feared outcome that had pushed her to challenge him, and he likely wasn't stupid enough to try.  

If they want her, and they want to fight, then who am I to tell them no?  She delivered this flatly, because internally, there was only one wolf she was referring to.  The rest of the pack, and their alluded allegiance, paled in comparison.  

So you'll just have to figure it out. All but the kids, because they are not yours to concern with.  Here her voice did get a little more of a lift, and her tone a bit more edge.  'His kids'.  Had she not been clear enough before?

He agreed with her on all points, which was what set him off further. If he was going to have a goddamn tantrum then she should play her part, damn it! Except she made a quip about the kids, and the slight shift of her attitude made him think he was gotten something for all the effort; some kind of response, finally.

Fuck you Rosalyn, I'm a part of those kids whether you like it or not. Whether he was in their lives or not, a mere protector or a proper father, it didn't matter. His blood ran through them. One day they'd know that - and maybe they'd be given a chance to choose between their pirate slut of a mother or their alpha father; titles had never meant anything to Firefly, not really, but in this argument he was certainly dependent upon them.

I should've stopped after I fucked Erzulie, left you empty, because you're clearly unfit to be a mother, oh yeah, he went there. Probably didn't realize he was being that much of an ass, but he was certainly talking out of his. He was angry, sure. Immature too. Certainly overwhelmed by the goings-on of Rusalka, and feeling the pressure of his now-solo position; he wasn't here to convince her to take the rank back, though. Fuck that. You fucking coward, he concluded.

No.  It was what she'd feared, and because of the moment, and the emotions, and everything, she immediately blew it out of proportion. He was right, but in her mind, he was not.  Because it had taken her years to find someone worth tying her life to, and to have him insert himself in that simply because she'd done him the favor of allowing him to fuck her broke her aforementioned calm.

She opened her mouth, then clicked it shut again, her rage turning to icy fury as he continued.  Every word he spoke compounded, with eerie accuracy, the fears running through her mind the past few months.  Coward.  Unfit.

He should have, but he didn't, and they'd both fucked up as a result.  She didn't want his kids.  She didn't want any of this.

Her last fragile thread of self control broke and she lunged for him, intent on tearing at his chest, shoulder, anything in reach.  Furious and feeling cornered, she forgot herself and who she was even fighting against.  She just wanted his blood on her fangs.

I rolled a d15 in tabletop (1 being a crit fail, 15 for crit success) and his dodge was a 1, so here have a massive fail via Firefly.

He shouldn't have let his rage get the better of him, and he certainly shouldn't have been goading her with it; not only was he playing in to her fears, but he was ruining one of the few good relationships he had. It would ruin them. Firefly was supposed to be better than this — more level-headed, more pragmatic, a better leader than the hot-headed Caiaphas, that had been the whole point of taking the rank from her. And here he was, spitefully, viciously, wrongly accusing Rosalyn — displacing his own doubts, fears, and wrongs upon her. He needed to accept that being a leader meant making hard choices and living with them, but he couldn't do that yet. He blamed her, and it was going to bite him in the ass.

Or more justly, in the face. He thought the cougar had caused him turmoil? Nothing compared to the all-out tilt of Rosalyn in that moment; he had anticipated angry words, not flashing teeth and malice, no matter how well deserved. She drove her full weight in to him (and in his mind he still thought, don't hurt her, don't hurt the children, to his own detriment). Her teeth sliced in to his face, and in another snap she was sinking teeth in to his cheek, his neck, his shoulder - and he was trying to back the fuck out of this entire exchange — but ended up collapsing under her weight and being pinned to the bloody sand.

Conversely, as she attacked him, Firefly wasn't what she saw.  At least not fully.  Finally her reserves had snapped, her senses left her, and it was Drageda there on the sand.  It was the boys who had threatened her, the one who stole her, or perhaps the one who had taken her eye.  It was the one who had screamed at her about the wrong she had done.  It was Caiaphas, spitting bloody sand as she laughed about bringing them war.  And, worst of all, it was Erzulie, hot eyed and adamant as she defended the woman, without a single reservation, against her own wife.  

It was the last image that broke her from it.  She took a step back and nearly stumbled as she recognized Firefly, bloodied on the sand by her own teeth.  It didn't matter what he had said - she shouldn't have lost herself like that on a packmate.

Shit.

Her breathing was heavy as she watched him, and she felt her vision starting to tunnel with the elevated thrum of her pulse.  She fought to hold it together as a strong wave of nausea hit her, waiting, watching for him to rise.

Rosalyn withdrew, staring wildly, but Firefly didn't see it. He didn't rise. By sheer luck, his ribcage continued to undulate with breath; however he remained upon the sand, struck unconcious during the scuffle — either from a blow to the head or because of the blood that was seeping from his many wounds. If he did wake up, he'd know better for next time.

He wasn't getting up.  Fuck.

He was breathing, that was good, but she wasn't enough of a healer to know if she'd done any life threatening damage.  He needed help.  She'd have to call it.

And what would they think when they came?  What would Erzulie think when she saw?  Firefly had goaded her, but she'd lost it in a way a packmate shouldn't and had no excuse.  The silence, the withheld words, and the looks... it would be worse now.  

She lost the contents of her stomach abruptly, then doubled over as a cramp struck and was forced to froze until it passed.  This entire thing was a mess, and one that she wasn't okay to deal with right now.

She lifted her muzzle and howled, summoning help.  Then, as soon as she finished, she began to walk, running as she always did, this time south.  She just needed to clear her head.  That was all... just to clear her head.

lying low was a skill caiaphas had spent most of her life polishing, yet as she heard the sound of scuffle and the howl that followed, the siren did anything but.

she was yet to be fully healed, and as she strode upon the scene of disturbed sand and blood, her own wounds seemed to stir in sharp reminder. lying on the sand was the downed form of their alpha — and tearing off like a hellcat on fire was the distant form of a bristling rosalyn.

caiaphas apprised all of this with a dull flick of her eyes. firefly was wounded, and a stain of crimson seeped the sand beneath him. she called for her daughter’s aid, shouldering the felled male on her thin body. the two carried him to where she had been tended to in the grotto, and once settled the siren called for @Erzulie, for if firefly was wounded it was likely his victor was in turn.