Redtail Rise Let The Feast Begin
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#1
All Welcome 


A caw here ...

... a caw there.

They come from every angle by which you can see.

Can you hear them? She can.

Yes, she can hear them. Their words are cruel and harsh; a shrill, bitter sound as they call for nearby brethren. 

There will be a rally soon... one that none can terminate. This is what they say.

Three will join. They will join and celebrate with splendor in songs waiting to be sung. 

This day is greatly anticipated. However, one cannot sit still all the while. No... There is preparation to be done; more of the world to see, more souls to understand and growth to have been completed. 

A day of feasting has long since been put off. It will wait no longer. There will be a feast.

Only one question stands, waiting to be answered... who will come to join?

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#2
He had been on the boarders, marking them strongly with the scent of himself. It mingled with those of the other's who called the rise home, it would be evident to outsiders that they made a claim here.

Yet still, litterers clung around the fringes of their territory.

This was good, for now, but he was certain they would not take kindly to stalkers forever.

Why are you here? He asks, curt and pointed.

He was prepared to run her off with tooth and claw.
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"You mustn't question another before first questioning yourself. Never fall to hypocrisy."



"Why are you here?"

Oh, how they were so quick to turn away another. As if all would simply tuck their tails and leave.

Why am I here? The sarcastic query floated through the mind, but was never spoken.

Why are you here? A response fluttered off the tongue quickly; sharp and directly cued. A hard stare followed in pursuit, head tilted slightly to the side.

Never question the purpose of another before first doing so of your own.

Riddles. More and more riddles.

It was beginning to become clear; what the boy named Caracal Redhawk had mentioned.

Most words were vague, but this is what pleased the raven. The less that was spoken, the fewer responses could be used to visualize her soul. It was meant to be kept secret for a reason.


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He can only feel blind anger in his veins for this.

Her flippant words, her nonchalance when faced with the Rise's claim.

He peeled back lips to expose his teeth, a low thrumming growl built in his chest and vibrated out through clenched teeth. All of this a silent warning before he would seek to take action on her.
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"You may be able to see, but you are still blind to the world and its many obstacles."



A sharp tongue clicked against the roof of the gob.

With each paw carefully placed, the darkness began to crawl around the opposing. If he were to charge onward and demand a fight, such movement would slow his lunge and prepare an advantage.

So quick to show teeth. So eager to shed blood. And yet, you've yet to hear what is to be said. A shake of the head exhibited slight disdain and disapproval. Was this what these wolves came to now? Such a shame.

Then again, if it is a fight you solely desire, I shall not be the first to step away with cowardice intent. With this, his challenge was being met with another. Not an instigator, was she, but this did not mean she could not stand up on her own four feet and meet the threat halfway. 

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the gradual sloping nature of the Rise is a boon; it allows one to see down toward their more vulnerable borders when standing upon a ridge, as she had been today. even at this distance, she can sense the tension—and she need not sense it to know the shadow for an intrusion.

but it takes a while before she gets there, and the woman's mocking voice comes to her on the wind.

Avicus pulls up alongside her war chief and sends a nearby group of crows to startled flight, baring her teeth. leave. now. the words are clipped, and her ragged tongue flicks out, snake-like. 

one word from the stranger was one too many.
but see, amid the mimic rout,
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude
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Prophet was not alone along.

Avi stood by his side, her words straight to what he had already silent warned this woman. This woman who would not speak words that made sense and showed no respect to what laid here.

He only offered another deep growl, now prepared to sink teeth into her if she did not heed the words of their Wealda.
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"I am the darkness; hence, I will be the one to decide when light is shone."



A second came to join the violent man. The two were alike, it seemed. Hasty and unwilling.

The rise of the redtail offers shelter to the wary, so I can see. This much was obvious, so why need it even be said aloud?

You are so brisk to dismiss those unknown. I only wish to know the reason for this. My intent here is not to harm... only to learn and possibly assist. If you are to turn such away without exhibiting some sense of curiosity, you surely will not grow your populace with ease.

Perhaps if the words came closer to their usual tongue, then maybe they would understand better from her view.

Even if they cared little for the given advice, it would be given before retreat was considered.




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words. Avicus doesn't have much use for those. she's heartened by the rumble she feels nearby in her Berserkr's chest and stands, steadfast, by him. letting the sentences wash over her; she barely hears them. all she sees is a wolf too close to her claim, and no inclination to apologize.

you hunhh'? fighh'? she demands, and then looks at Prophet. his tongue isn't mangled; he can make better inquiries of the woman than she.

she removes herself from his side, if only by inches, and glances sidelong at the woman. the fur along her spine is bristling like fire, and she feels her breath, steady but hard, her ribs stark against her slender abdomen and sleek, russet fur.
but see, amid the mimic rout,
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude
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He wished for her throat.

He wished to silence her stupid, contrived words. But it was here that Avi filled her spot of Wealda by seeking to lay paths before the woman.

Prophet was prepared, as Berserkr, to test this woman harshly if she so much as dared to offer tooth for them. She would need to be broken and built again.

This much he could tell, by the simple way she came to them.
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"Hunt, or fight?" That was what it came down to. The wielding creature of darkness was both. She was all.

First, a shake no came; then after a nod yes. Both were true, but there was more to it than this.

I listen, then speak. The spirits have many lessons to teach and warning to give. It is my purpose to hear them, interpret, and share with those who wish to know truth. But I do hunt, and fight, and heal, and seek; all the same. There was hesitance, though. Did this keeper and her guardian wish only for those who had the power to shed blood of prey and enemy? If so, perhaps this was not the home of fate.

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#12
the words that unfurl before her remind her all too much of her father's crazed musings;

she has no use for them.

the woman had nodded, so she then stares directly at her, a command in her gaze. fighh' him, she says, flicking an eye toward Prophet, or 'hhleave.

they have healer already, and she trusts Ashlar far more than this wolf.

they need warriors, not ramblers.

she must fight to prove herself worthy. Avicus straightens, waiting for the woman's first move. her countenance is hard, brooking no opposition. resistance will be met only with teeth.
but see, amid the mimic rout,
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude
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#13
Avi is patient where Prophet falters in it.

He is angry. He is unfurled into raised hackles and curling lips, teeth aching for the sensation of pulling tufts and snipping skin.

The woman's option has been made clear.

She will either face him in a physical test or be banished by his teeth anyway. It was up to her if this either ended in a home or bloodshed brought on by fierce protectiveness.

The resounding growl in him demanded her decision be made quick.
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#14

Although the pursuit for violence had never before been sought, intrigue had grown within. 

Perhaps something could be gained from this. Strength and power could later be resulted. Though, there was only one way to discover whether the result was even applicable. 

A man stood before the dark woman; the eye of the raven, the seer of caws, the maiden of talons, the keeper of the conspiracy. There was great desire to dig his teeth within her like she was no more than a pound of flesh. Oh how he longed for blood; this could be seen, clear as day. These names had long ago been bestowed, thus, it would be ensured that they were lived up to.

Astraea would give no verbal agreement to either option. The red woman cared no longer for words. If it was blood these two wanted so badly, then she would gladly give it.

Flaring stained pearls in a vicious snarl, the flash of dark fur blurred, countering the sharp breeze as she leapt for the man. Tooth and claw were outstretched, aiming for whatever they could snag upon. It was already known that she was of a disadvantage, for this man was much larger. One could only hope that wit and determination would hold a steady drive for triumph.

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#15
skippable until the fight comes to an end!

it will be a good fight; her Berserkr practically vibrates with pent-up aggression beside her, ready for battle. when the woman charges, Avicus takes a step or two back, eyes flickering to and from the two with deep pleasure.

she will not act until one or the other capitulates.
but see, amid the mimic rout,
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude
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#16
rolled a 7

She engaged him and it flared him to life even further. Her teeth snagged against his shoulder, a familiar sensation soon bloomed after it. Bruise or blood did not matter.

He had something to prove.

Yet he had to remind himself not to maim, not to kill, if they were to keep her after this. So he aims to disarm her, slamming a broad shoulder into her side with the hopes he might knock her off kilter.
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#17

Got a whole whoppin' 1 Lol

The man was quick to react.

Thirst in his eyes; though, he held some sense of control. He would not kill, nor would he be merciful. An acceptable conclusion.

A heavy shoulder was thrown, knocking away both air and balance. The woman heaved many breaths in response, struggling to regain some form of footing.

Though partially dazed, there was enough sight to find an opening for the throat. He had left himself vulnerable, but perhaps not for very long. The attempt would be made anyway, teeth lunging forward to find a grip at the nape's flesh, and perhaps even put in a good tear.
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#18
a big 10

He was further riled when he felt her attempt to pluck his nape, pinching the skin uncomfortably so.

This close, she would be easy to grab in return. Which meant he aimed to turn his own teeth upon her now. This time he sought to pull blood — from her shoulder. The skin delicate over the curve of the joint.

She would need to know his power, his command above her, if she succeeded in this encounter.
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#19

My luck is not with the rolls... got a whoppin' 2

Teeth and nape made contact, if ever-so.

Iron had never tasted so sweet, nor departed so quickly.

The man of advantage turned immediately upon sight of the opening, clenching a hard bite over the opponents shoulder.

A wince, merely. It was pain bearable for some, but not for all. Luckily for the raven, enough had been endured to render this a simple scrape.

Snarling back with immense fury and retaliation, the target was switched from the nape to the limbs. Even the slightest bite may aide in altering the man's directive. By this point, the raven was tiring and needed closure, regardless of who concluded.
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#20
edited to be a proper fade for here since it's been 2 weeks with no response
and 7

She may have pinched his limbs with feverish need, but it seemed he still reigned supreme.

Not to mention how his patience wore ever thin with her lack of desire to yield. This was not a battlefield, not yet. Surely she could sense she was outmatched.

He only sought to further clench his grip on her punctured shoulder.

And finally, they would find an end. He would not take her even if she proved herself. He saw her unyielding on their borders as disrespect, more than bravery.

He would only snort his dismissal of her.