The scene set, the play plucked from the many that had yet to be used. Innocent Death, that's what she called it but the dove did not have a staring role. No, that was reserved for the girl called "the broken one". Her name did not matter but she knew it, she was a gentle thing called Aya. Ah, to have such trust again but the world was harsh and cruel. Innocence never lasted, that bright new light would dull as life proved to you that it was never on your side.

She had been there but not together with the rest, no, there were to many and she simply wanted one item. Yes, you guessed it. She wanted her head, the skull in which the poor girl's soul would be tied to the priestess like the many she collected. This one would be the cleanest in her collection, and a feeling annoyance might ride if she cried or wailed too many times.

On her skull was the old Overseer's bones, her dual colored eyes peering out where yellow should have. Ah, stupid Nemesis for trying to so blatantly kill their Lord. The carnage started and she simply watched like an audience member, the tragedy unfolded in a wash of screams, tears, and the ever presented blood. How much would be left to complete the ritual to bind her to the Medic? She saw how the red colored those that were colorless and dirtied those with darker colors. The younger girl with pumpkin eyes, Leigh, she seemed to reliving a horror. While Nyra, the Blade, flipped on a switch that would not sit well with her now that her mind was no longer clouded with bloodlust.

Strangers came, more audience members to come see the play but they soon were dragged on stage to show a chase scene. Oh such fun that part of the art was but it was now time for her curtain call, she was to enter at this moment. Her eyes fell away from them before she lifted herself up, passing the now shocked warrior. Her paws began to soak up the spilled blood, a perfect substitute for her not spilling the red liquid herself. She moved to watch Leigh and the hybrid that latched onto the part Dove needed the most.

"Pardon, can you release this one's face?" she said it sweetly before looking at the distraught girl trying to pull her off. " And darling Leigh, you might want to get away from all this. There is nothing you can do for her now, she is gone." Gone, her living life was gone but the priestess would swear to those that asked that she could see the orange eyes of the ghostly form staring down at her torn body is shock and sorrow. Should she tell this living distraught girl that the girl that led here for caring was a spirit or would that make it worse?

something...gripped her.
not metaphorically, as in something in her mind -- though she was clouded by bloodlust which was making he processing a little slower.
no.
she ignored it. it didn't hurt. it only felt like some child begging for play.

though...around her everything seemed to stop and slow.
Nyra had the heart in her mouth, seemed like it was her first time in this dance, and the male she'd been whispering to had run off. probably to do something with that pent up feeling he had for this corpse.

Dove broke through her mauling. her blue eye slid to the medic woman, then dropped the head obediently, letting the body finally rest.
ah. where had that tugging got to?
Sasha turned and rounded on Leigh with nothing but malice on her eyes. bloodstained lips upturning to reveal her dribbling, bloodied maw.
it seemed she wanted to be sacrificed next.

she prowled closer with measured steps. like a cougar on a ram.
I'm sorry
it rang through the air.
"too late, love," she chimed in.
look at this...pathetic woman crying over a dead stranger. she wondered if she tasted so sweet.

Even though Donovan accidentally knocks Sunhawk from Derg’s grip, he realizes the fight might still go on even as the stranger begins running off. He is surely out of Kynareth’s grasp, he’s much too fast, but as the long legged Evelynn sprints past him like a silver blur he knows there might just be hope yet. His already bloodied smile curls even further and where he slowed to a stop next to his Overseer he watches as the shewolf chases him down. 

This is it. Donovan thinks horribly as he kicks up grass urging himself into a sprint. His muscles shift beneath his beautiful, bloody pelt as he widens his strides to close in on the other male. He narrowly avoids taking Evelynn with him as tries to clash into the other males body.

The Grandmaster is a fury of sharp, dagger like teeth and he plans to use them. He would kill this man too if he has the opportunity and it seems one has presented itself too. So finally he shoots his wide open mouth to snatch up the back of this man’s scruff. He truly looks like the devil himself as his curly tail wags on his hips with malicious anticipation. His coingold orbs wide with the thrill of the hunt and his boxy muzzle is snarled up, with cream brows drawn tightly down. Kynareth is the devil, he is a monster and he doesn’t give a fuck. It’s a dog eat dog world out here and this one decided to be eaten the moment he showed his face. 

His muscles ripple as he stumbles when he narrowly misses his mark. He will definitely would have done some serious damage if he was able to catch him. Hell he would’ve decapitated him just like he did Nemisis. Either way, this man just barely escaped a major injury from the brindled brute.

“So… dramatic.”

They were either staring with round eyes, gathering around the body with parts betwixt their teeth or tears at their eyes, racing after a stranger through the bushes until their paws hitting the ground could barely be heard. With a hacking laugh and pieces of broken tail laying at his feet, horrible, cruel eyes slowly turned away from Nyra swinging the girls heart about to where the medic, Dove, had gathered by Leigh; who in turn was being snarled at by Sasha. 

“Aren’t females so…. so?” Oh how the dark shadow loomed about them, as big as Kynareth himself, black as the night and wet at the mouth. Without warning his large maw came down against Aya’s stomach, where his fangs tore large, gaping holes in her pelt as if they were but paper…
 
“Oh, but some of you were so brave, so fierce… so the Saints of the Dying light isn't a bunch of dog-shit smeared in the dirt after all!”

All at once the pink rolls of red rolling flesh of the broken wolfs intestines burst with a single bite of her now concave middle, and with the elegant tossing of his massive head the organs landed upon Leigh’s head. Looped her ears, gummed her fur with thick blackening blood, hung there like a crown of flesh… and he began to howl with laughter at the blood splatter up the side of Dove’s lovely white fur, the motion having flecked her so delicately so! In fact it was so funny the male literally keeled over with guttural chuckles coming like spasms, legs flailing wildly in the air!

“Kaf-fa-fa-fa, hoo-ee, ha, I’m going to join this pack, ladies.” A tongue swipe about his drooling, infected maw, the laughing having set off a surge of spittle. “I’m a divine test sent from some bastard in the sky, and I write my way in blood.”

A roll, the male splooted, looking ever so casual…

“Cry ya' little tears… but if you don’t get strong, like these ones,” A head tilt to Nyra and Sasha, completed by a wicked smirk, “I’m gonna' make sure you have a little ‘accident’... and one by one, this pack will be made pure.”

Coming back to reality after such a vicious high is never pleasant. At least, not for Nyra. 
She trembled slightly as she tossed Aya's heart into the river, forcing herself not to gag, not to puke, while she was here. 

She felt frozen in time as she watched the deathly-ill creature disembowel the dead girl and decorate poor Leigh in the carnage. 

Everything was moving in slow motion and hyperspeed all at once. 

The Shieldmaiden steeled herself into calmness as she approached Leigh, blocking Sasha from her with a glare made of hellfire before she whined softly to the dragon-wolf and nosed the intestines and other guts from Leigh's fur. Silently, she stayed at Leigh's side - she had been too bloodthirsty to see her friend's hurt before, but she saw it now - and she would be damned if she did nothing while Leigh was left feeling so much agony, even though Nyra was partially at fault for it and knew as such.

Nyra also knew she had done nothing good, and there was nothing she could do to redeem herself from this. But, she would protect and defend everyone she cared for, with everything she had.

Even at the expense of someone else.

Sunhawk, you idiot. What did you get yourself into?

He had no time to think or even breathe before he was hunted down. Evelynn streaked by in a zip of silver - but Sunhawk zigged while she zagged, and he managed to dodge her - a feat that surprised even Sunny if we’re being honest. 

His luck came to a hard stop when Derg closed the gap. Sunhawk didn’t need eyes on the back of his head (he’d keep them up front, thanks) to feel the teeth that pulled down his hips mid stride. 

That hurt like a MOTHER. Shit just got real, fam. 

Turns out, Stripey Boi wasn’t as slow as his thicc limbs suggested. In the blink of an eye the Mini-Mastodon had practically ate up ground (probably as efficiently as he was gonna gobble up poor Sunny). Sunhawk felt his gangrene breath hot on his booty, and tucked his butt just in time to barely miss losing his tail. HEY! I USE THAT THING TO IMPRESS THE LADIES!

If he was going to escape, he’d have to keep running, not fight back. Sunhawk continued as fast as his legs were able. His eyes desperately scanned his surroundings while seemingly the whole ass pack was riding his tail. 

Sunhawk’s legs gathered under him. Ahead was one of the many ridges that visually interrupted the scene -he sprinted with one last burst of pure, desperate speed. 

Up and over the ridge he went, still mostly intact. His lungs and legs were on fire and he felt liquid matting his hind legs from Mini-Me and Evil Bastard  - but none of it mattered if he made it out of here alive. 

And he was going to make it out alive. No way was he going to be Pot De Cremê for a band of psychopaths. He would run until his splindly little legs cracked. 

Smell ya later, FREAKS!

blood and flesh sailed over her head...right onto Leigh's pretty little one before her.
oh shit, "direct hit!" she yelled with glee, turning to look at the responsible stranger.
what perfect timing too! oh she would be spewing because of this.
but it seemed not. not yet at least.

well shit.
she didn't know the lass had it in her, but there we go.
the words were for Dorus. well, what had Sasha actually done to her, let's be honest. she was the one who was bitten.
so whatever.

but, it seemed the intruder had got away as the assault team come back.
Leigh had moved off and away, the Overseer checking on her first. ugh. simp.
Sasha smiled at her husband, tail waving with joy as she moved over to him.
"wasn't that fun," she purred with obvious joy in her eyes.

Oh my god. What an absolute SHIT FEST. A chaotic, horrifying, bloody shit show. He loves it. The death, the smell, the blood covering his face, creamy chest, and paws. Oh god. He’s almost turned on by it, but he’s not quite at that stage in his life yet. Yet anyway. 

What he is pissed about is the fact that this dumb little intruder was able to get away. Oh lord, was Donovan going to throttle him if he got a hold of him and he was going to love it. He’d kill him to and then they could all go decorate the canyon with their organs and maybe do some cute finger painting drawings or some shit. Maybe some heart shaped paw prints or whatever these sissies wanted to draw to make them feel better about themselves. Oh, well. 

So he only watches the stranger wolf run off for a few more seconds and he quickly notices the absence of Derg’s presence beside him. He trotting back to the horrid scene to find him couched next to a very traumatized looking Leigh. He doesn’t know what transpired but when he hears the usually sweet female go off at Dorus he freezes. His face comical as he listens to the insults that roll easily and smoothly off her lips. 

“Wow.” He hums hardly loud enough for anyone to hear and he moderately concerned for her. Actually he’s very concerned but his blood lust is too high at the moment to care too much. 

So he saunters over to the chaos and smirks to them all. “Okay, now who wants to decorate the borders?” He asks them then. A maliciously teasing smirk settled in his bloodied face.

Of all the things Nyra had done in the past, spilling information to stay alive...nearly killing a four month old pup...this, and the events to come...
 
Nyra wasn't really a wolf of self reflection. Not anymore, at the least...if she was one at all. 
The Shieldmaiden watched and listened as Leigh let loose her dragonfire. The ferocity in her friend gave Nyra goosebumps. 

Then as Derg returned, followed by Kynareth...
The Grandmaster asked who wanted to paint the borders with Aya's blood and corpse. 

At that, Nyra wanted to speak up, wanted to object to this execution and everything about it, but...her voice didn't come. 

Sadly, she knew why.

Throwing her own wrath around, especially at Donovan, after she helped kill this girl...
Nyra would be a hypocrite to protest to anything at this point. 




She was just as bad as Kynareth.

oh what a glorious day. the Saint's thrived, and the Abbey was reborn!
glorious, glorious.
som left now. did they not wish to partake further? apparently not...
she was surprised to see that Overseer go.
she should be the Overseer.

"i do!" she called. Oh, she could string guts in the trees. she could stick the legs in the ground like something crawling from the dead.
Sasha laughed. perfect.
but wait.
"who the fuck is Donovan?"
her head tilted to the whining brat, then to Kynareth.
Donovan Azura sounded like someone who could be from the Abbey. but she didn't know who.
it wasn't the girl, she was called Aya.

"Donovan was the name our Grandmaster was going by for a time." Nyra said flatly to Sasha, glancing at Leigh with a newfound respect, before the Blade, soon to be Paladin though at this point she didn't know that, looked at Kynareth for a good, long few moments, before she finally began to pad to the river to wash off the blood all over her front. Unless stopped, of course.