Summer has finally arrived! The sun has melted the snows in the north and the southern territories are beginning to grow uncomfortably hot and dry. Pups are being born and life seems to finally be getting back to normal after the cure for the disease was found. But how long will it last?
The cure has been found! Wolves on Anikira are recovering from the disease and life is moving forward with the promise of pups in many packs. And yet darkness looms on the horizon, daring the creatures of Anikira to relax and allow themselves to get comfortable once more.
[attr="class","toast"]So far, things had seemed a little slow-paced for Fenrir's liking. He enjoyed doing things, yearned to move onwards in the perpetual metaphorical battle. He could not remain in one place for long, couldn't keep his paws from marching forwards even when his mind didn't agree. It was almost frustrating, for when Mara had promised to found a pack with Fen, he had thought it would have been fast-paced and full of glory, a constant struggle for territory and to recruit new members. However, at the moment, nothing was happening.
It aroused a part of Fenrir which almost terrified him—almost. It awoke the part of him which had enjoyed seeing his entrails being ripped from his body a little too much. It brought to life the part of him which had wanted nothing more but the blood of those who had wronged him, but it wasn't the normal feelings of anger and vengeance. It was something he couldn't control, urges he couldn't fight like any normal wolf. He did not feel evil, but simply angry all the time, as if a leaf could fall at the wrong time and he could snap.
Looking up at Pievunt-An, Fenrir watched the beautiful smoke rise, gently, caressing the sky. It was a dangerous, deadly thing, acting soft and gentle and sweet. It reminded him a little of Mara, and the thought made him smile something which wasn't quite an emotion. Tearing his gaze from the elegant dance of the smog, Fenrir padded on, his heavy pawsteps reverberating through the ashen ground.
@bellona welcome to ani! <3[newclass=.toast]position: relative; z-index: 200; width: 0px; opacity: 0; transition: all 1.5s ease; -webkit-transition: all 1.5s ease; -moz-transition: all 1.5s ease;[/newclass][newclass=.fenbase:hover .toast]width: 370px; opacity: .7;[/newclass][newclass=.toast::-webkit-scrollbar]width: 8px;[/newclass][newclass=.toast::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background: #FFE2C4;[/newclass]
Bellona had missed the feeling of flesh tearing at her claws. She had missed the violent snapping of jaws just missing her neck and the thrill of realising that she had ended a wolf's life—the thrill of vengeance. She needed to tear out someone's throat, and a part of her, a small yet ever there part of her, reminded her that Zephyra would've been appalled. But what did it matter what she thought? She was dead. She had abandoned her loving mate in favour of death. What loyalty should Bellona have held to her now?
She needed something to take the edge off. Perhaps killing someone, perhaps just a fight of any kind. She just wanted the adrenaline rush, just wanted to be distracted from her terrifying thoughts, from the eternal abyss which was eating her whole.
It seemed that her prayers had been answered when she saw a brooding, dark wolf walking around Pievunt-An. He was enormous, but he also had the telltale lankiness of adolescence, meaning that he was inexperienced. Bellona was sure that she could teach him a thing or two about fighting.
Without further hesitation, the monochromatic femme pounded the ground with her practised paws, a snarl ripping from her throat. She needed this. She needed the release. Perhaps someone would have to die to ease her frustrations, but that was fine. Anyone could die, anyone at all. This wolf likely had loved ones; how would they feel when their precious son was found slain by a girl? The thought made her quiver with excitement. Some wolves had to die in order for others to survive.
Paws thrumming against the loose ground, Bellona widened her jaws once she was close enough. Already there was adrenaline rushing through her veins, the pure energy of the battle taking over her thoughts—a distraction. She would snap her powerful jaws shut and rip apart this pup's shoulder, hopefully; she did not aim for his throat, for she wanted a little fun with him before she killed him. After all, she wasn't that cruel. He could say his goodbyes first.
@fenrir this kinda sucks but eh. yay! excited for this thread c:
[attr="class","toast"]Fenrir had been so caught up in the noise of his mind that he had not noticed the growing wolven scent nearby. He needed something to take the edge off: a conversation, a new wolf, some death, a fi-
Crash! Searing, red-hot pain shot through Fenrir as he felt temporarily paralysed by his attacker. After a moment of shock, he tore himself away, his right shoulder dripping with blood from a deep bite wound. Red irises darkened with fury. Who had done this?
A snarl ripping itself from Fenrir's throat, the brute whipped around to face the grey-white she-wolf who seemed determined to kill Fenrir. Was she mad? What was wrong with her, targeting a wolf nearly half her height taller? Fenrir had heard of idiots, but he didn't see violent idiots that often.
"The fuck you playing at, girl?"
Then, a flash of ire striking his countenence like thunder, the ebony male launched himself at her back, attempting to grab ahold of her from the top. He knew that he would have the height and weight advantage here.
He didn't know who this was or who she thought she was, but Fenrir would not just run away with his tail tucked meekly between his legs. He would defend himself, and though he did not consider himself excessively prideful, he knew that it would just be plain embarassing if he allowed himself to be beaten by this dumbass.
Adrenaline pounding through his blood vessels, Fenrir waited for the satisfying connection of claws and muscle—or, alternatively, for the moron to see what happened to overzealous bitches who thought they could just dodge an attack.
@bellona It's okay, this sucks more lol.[newclass=.toast]position: relative; z-index: 200; width: 0px; opacity: 0; transition: all 1.5s ease; -webkit-transition: all 1.5s ease; -moz-transition: all 1.5s ease;[/newclass][newclass=.fenbase:hover .toast]width: 370px; opacity: .7;[/newclass][newclass=.toast::-webkit-scrollbar]width: 8px;[/newclass][newclass=.toast::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background: #FFE2C4;[/newclass]
With a satisfying crunch, Bellona's teeth connected with the stranger's shoulder and tore at his flesh. Already she was beginning to feel better. Now she just had to win this, or her high was all for nought.
His words were nothing to Bellona. She was on top of the world, a queen reconquering not her kingdom, but herself. Nothing this whelp said could bring her down. So, instead of replying to his words, she flashed him a sickly sweet grin, waiting for his retaliation. She was a little disappointed to see him go for the obvious, but she would make do; of course, with his superior size, he would aim to crush her. She would not let him.
Rolling away in one smooth movement, she saw the brute land heavily on the ground. Bellona was by no means light, although she clearly had the upper hand in terms of agility here; not much of an upper hand, but something all the same.
Bellona did not let a heartbeat pass before she ducked down, attempting to grab a hold of the paw connected to the stranger's right shoulder. She could probably shake it around a bit and cause him some pain, making him vulnerable for the kill. It was, theoretically, a fine plan.
As the smaller wolf dived downwards, she made sure that her throat and underbelly brushed the ground so that they could not be targeted by the other wolf; that did not stop him from doing something to her tougher back, however that would be less delicate and less painful. His incompetence really did fill Bellona with confidence; she knew that she could easily beat this pup in combat. He might have had brawn, but he did not have brains at all.
@fenrir (p.s. staff, we've discussed some of the moves beforehand so anything which seems like powerplay has been pre-discussed in order to make the fight itself take fewer amount of posts, so that we can move on with the thread)
[attr="class","toast"]As the stranger dodged Fenrir's attack with one fluid motion, she seemed to whirl around and decide to get down anyway. A thump echoed throughout the area as Fenrir landed on the ground, but he did not deliberate over his missed attack. She had literally bowed down, showing the easy target of her back; it would not do terrible damage, but it would for sure pin the dumb bitch down. Smirking at her naïveté, the brute leapt clumsily in the air to land on her spine and crush her. He was heavy and therefore his jump was not as smooth as he would've liked, but it did not matter; perhaps her tactics were to outwit Fenrir, but Fenrir knew he was far stronger than her and could defeat her with brute force alone.
With his jump, the she-wolf's attack did not land and Fenrir's paw remained unharmed, although it still throbbed from the shoulder injury above it. That did not matter, though; despite its depth, the wound had stopped bleeding so aggressively and Fenrir decided that it would be fine to go on. He would not let himself be defeated by some angry idiot.
As he moved in midair, Fenrir tucked his limbs neatly beneath him so that they would not be broken or dislocated upon landing. He did not need his legs to take the fall for he would, hopefully, have a furry cushion to land on. His heart sped up as he thought of the ways he could harm her as soon as she would submit. Mara would have been pleased.
@bellona Whoops, sorry for the wait D:[newclass=.toast]position: relative; z-index: 200; width: 0px; opacity: 0; transition: all 1.5s ease; -webkit-transition: all 1.5s ease; -moz-transition: all 1.5s ease;[/newclass][newclass=.fenbase:hover .toast]width: 370px; opacity: .7;[/newclass][newclass=.toast::-webkit-scrollbar]width: 8px;[/newclass][newclass=.toast::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background: #FFE2C4;[/newclass]
A flash of fury rippled through Bellona as the stranger evaded her attack, adrenaline powering her mind and body. Thinking fast, she rolled over just in time for the male to still land, but only on her paw. Swiftly, she grabbed him between her teeth and hauled him off, making sure to rip off some flesh as she went. She wouldn't make it that easy.
Bellona trembled in anticipation, fuelled by the need for release, the pure thirst for blood pounding through her veins. She was feeling better already, but she just wanted him dead. It felt like far too long since someone had fallen limp and lifeless at her paws, and she could just imagine the blood pouring out of the adolescent's throat, like a waterfall at the height of summer. Thinking about it was almost arousing.
"Give up, kiddo. Your shoulder looks like it's been eaten by a giant," she taunted, smirking and making sure he could see his own blood dripping off of her teeth. Oh, how she had missed the delicious thrill of taunting someone like this. She felt a little bad for this random pup she had just jumped, if she was honest, but that feeling was quickly suppressed in favour of lunging forwards to grab his neck.
Her actions were reckless and messy, though they were deliberate and powerful nevertheless. Once, she might have been a more calculated, calm warrior, one a pack might have been proud of. She was nothing but a mess of nerves and anger now, and her realisation of her own worthlessness made her falter slightly, stumbling on her way towards the wolf's neck. Her self-deprecation might have saved this young male's life.
Legs trembling, she stepped back. What was she doing? What would Zephyra say?
No. She's dead.
She was nothing, but that was okay. A deathly chill swept through her, and the anger seemed to subside. She was absolutely worthless and a complete failure, and so what? At least she wouldn't be alone in that.
Bracing herself again, she lunged directly for the male's jugular, her eyes focused on his eyes as if she intended to blind him. Hopefully he would look up and away and let her have the kill.
@fenrir lmao I didn't expect her to have some sort of a minor blood fetish but here we go?
[attr="class","toast"]This wolf was fucked up. Why was she so intent on killing a stranger? Ironically, she seems like exactly the type of wolf Mara would want. Had she not decided to shred Fenrir, perhaps he would've invited her to come join them—per Mara's permission, of course. His Devil would be the judge of whether or not she was worthy, but a recommendation couldn't hurt.
Humiliatingly, Fenrir landed only on Bellona's paw and she quickly dragged him off, searing pain rippling through him but he ignored that. All that mattered at this point was his own damn pride.
Fenrir's front half dipped down in preparation for some sort of assault on his jugular—he was expecting it, after all—but was instead met with a stumble that could not have been an accident. He wasn't entirely sure whether to laugh or ask if she was okay, but it seemed that she quickly regained her composure with an icy glare that hadn't been there before.
As if the past few moments had never occured, she leapt towards Fenrir in the blink of an eye. He had no time to prepare, merely reflexes propelling him to the side. Thankfully, it was enough, and Bellona landed awkwardly on her side. This time, Fenrir did laugh.
"You fight well," he commented drily, no hint of genuine warmth in his voice. "For a midget, at least." Bellona was by no means small, especially when Fen knew Mara, but Fenrir was only making fun of her average height in juxtaposition to Fenrir's own towering physicality.
"Look, I'm not dumb. You're probably not that dumb. This fight is going nowhere. I don't know what your random vendetta against me is, but calm down," he tried, attempting to make himself look as threatening as possible. He wanted her to retreat; he could play his own mind games if brawn wasn't helping as much as he'd like.
Then, a strange thought entered his head. What would Mara make of someone so vicious? Though Fenrir disliked this wolf for obvious reasons, it wasn't his place to decide. Perhaps the Devil would have a use for her; she could fight, and she was violent.
"I'm Fenrir. I know this wolf called Mara, and she's starting a pack. I won't tell you more than that, but I'll say this: I doubt that most packs would take wolves like you in, but we would. I'm travelling with her and if you want to find her, just follow my scent."
He knew it was out of the blue, but it wasn't every day that someone came across a wolf with such a thirst for blood as this stranger. He held no personal feelings towards her, but from a logical standpoint, she seemed like the kind of wolf who would fit in. He supposed it would depend on whether or not she took his advice; it was all down to her from here on out.
Turning around, Fenrir gave his tail a dismissive flick and began to walk away. Hopefully she would be too winded to follow, but if she decided to start fighting again, this time he'd kill her. This was a chance for her to leave and for both of them to not have lost the battle, and was perhaps a favourable outcome.
He wouldn't look forward to seeing her around, but if Mara would take her, he'd put up with the dumb bitch.
@bellona FINALLY starting to reach a conclusion lol[newclass=.toast]position: relative; z-index: 200; width: 0px; opacity: 0; transition: all 1.5s ease; -webkit-transition: all 1.5s ease; -moz-transition: all 1.5s ease;[/newclass][newclass=.fenbase:hover .toast]width: 370px; opacity: .7;[/newclass][newclass=.toast::-webkit-scrollbar]width: 8px;[/newclass][newclass=.toast::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background: #FFE2C4;[/newclass]
Bellona rolled her eyes drily. What was he playing at with his empty compliments?
"I'm no midget. You're just incredibly fat," she stated, ears flicking with a hint of humour. She was not here to joke, yet a part of her felt exhausted. She didn't really want to fight after the thought of her dead mate had crossed her mind, but she couldn't just give up. Her pride was worth more than that.
Just as she was about to spring and claw his ears off, he threw her completely off guard with a peace offering. What? She had just been trying to kill him out of the blue, and he wanted peace? She smirked. He was already surrendering.
"Admitting defeat already?" Consciously, she wanted to just finish him and move on. She knew it would bug her to leave a fight unfinished and unwon. Yet, despite that, she felt emotionally spent. Not physically, no, she was ever as eager to decimate this whelp, but the memory of Zephyra was fresh in her mind and she found herself being too tired to go on.
Time seemed to unfreeze when he offered her a place in some future pack. She definitely did not want to settle down in a pack, but curiosity was enough to make her want to follow. Perhaps she could join for a small while, though she was in no rush.
Before she could reply to his offer, Fenrir stalked off, bloodied and battered. Bellona felt a flicker of joy in her stomach as she remembered that she did that.
She didn't hate Fenrir personally, though she wouldn't have blamed Fenrir if he hated her. No, she was just using him as a punching bag. Yet he had proven his worth as a promising young wolf; if a pack could raise him, perhaps it was worth seeing. Not joining, no, but it wasn't as if Bellona had anything else to do.
So she noted this location in her head and made to return to track Fenrir's scent, sometime in the future. She still wanted to explore for a little while, but this mysterious pack of Fenrir's could become a long-term goal of sorts.
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