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Post by Pavane on Apr 25, 2012 1:06:50 GMT -5
Ikuna starts out to assist Ahiga, but he's cut off by Chua's charge, veering to the side to keep the reddish dog from overrunning him. He barks an alarm as he turns away, warning Ahiga that he's alone now... if he even manages to be heard through the other wolf's intent attack. There's little more he can do for that, turning instead to face his current fight.
The initial jibe leaves him unruffled; he's never claimed to be the smartest of wolves. Besides, he's been insulted before. That wolverine... Ikuna is not entirely unblooded in battle, for all his youth and inexperience; he's fought more than deer and rabbits. Of course... the odds have never before been so strongly against him, and many of the tactics of wolves - surrounding the target; distracting it from the killer - are now more easily used against him than by him. Things don't look good, but he'll manage something. Somehow. He just has to keep his head. It's his turn to be the defender now. Whatever it takes. If nothing else... his gaze flicks briefly to Tala, running to intercept those headed for the den. If nothing else, to let the rest escape. Here, against these odds, he thinks of escape. Escape - like a deer before wolves. Escape - like when he was a pup, stolen away and imprisoned. Defense, or at least to let the others escape. Whatever it takes.
Chua's next taunt proves a more successful one. She? From this pack? His growl rises in volume even before the spark of recognition in his eyes. There might be other shes from this pack - but there's only one, recently gone, who's been on his mind; one for whom he's marked the place where her scent trail left Ute territory, and lingered there on his patrols to watch and wonder when she'll return. Only one whose voice he hopes for; only one without whom his pack, this pack, feels incomplete. Only one. One wolf. Not his best friend. Not his sister. Not his mate. Not his parent. Only his Chewy.
The young wolf's hackles are risen, and his eyes are bright with an anger that seems out of place there. Patient Ikuna, calm Ikuna, gentle Ikuna... is full of rage. His growl is a rumble, carrying across the area and too thick to let out words. No matter. He has no need for words, not now.
Ikuna bares his teeth, but something holds him back from lunging. In his anger, a small, cold voice has woken in his head. Wait, it says. Find your chance. Make it count. His legs are stiff as he circles, tensed and ready for action, and his head is carried low, his hackles risen above it.
The insult to his broken tail means nothing, and he steps aside at the lunge, his forequarters starting to sway in readiness for a counterattack, then swinging back up again to continue circling. He tries a brief lunge of his own, at Chua's side just behind the shoulder, then falls back, his eyes intent on the dog.
He looks for his chance.
He looks for blood.
Patient Ikuna.
***
Bone's long legs have outpaced Toby's, though the other dog is not long behind; the mastiff meets Ahiga one on one, dog against wolf, invader against defender.
David against Goliath.
In the story, David was righteous, and so he triumphed.
Ahiga's cause is surely righteous.
This isn't a story.
Attack and counterattack happen together, almost too quick to be seen. Bone steps to the side just as Ahiga leaps, and the wolf's jaws find the meat of his shoulder instead of the soft flesh of his throat. His own square muzzle descends, but his massive bulk makes the angles all wrong to go for Ahiga's throat in return. He tries instead to grab at the back of the wolf's neck and crush his spine, but Ahiga jerks away and Bone catches only at a shoulder and the raised hackles of Ahiga's scruff. The dog jerks his head to the side in a quick motion, and releases - like a cat, tossing a mouse through the air in cruel play.
Red blood drips from Bone's shoulder, vivid against his short, pale fur. He pads in a slow loop back toward Ahiga, and if the leg seems a little stiff now, less maneuverable than before, it still functions. Bone still moves.
Toby has caught up as well, with a sycophant's grin for Bone. He lunges at Ahiga, jaws snapping and eager to finish the job his master began.
***
As a flying fury of paws and jaws approaches, Ghast blinks in surprise. He takes an abrupt step backward, colliding with Genghis. The black dog wurfs, and Ghast's tail tucks briefly. "Sorry, sorry, I - whoa!"
Tala's jaws flash far too close for comfort, and Ghast gets out of the way by dint of falling over. His legs tangle around each other, and the white dog tumbles against the snow as Tala gets a mouthful of Genghis' thick fur instead. The black dog growls, a deep rumbling noise, and lumbers toward Tala.
Ghast scrambles up to his feet. "Hey now, settle down pretty lady. No need for you to make a fuss, oh no. Things'll be just fine..." His tone sounds almost earnest, eager to be believed. There's no growls from him, nope. Just an honest face.
...it'd be a lot easier to believe if it weren't for what the rest of his pack is busy doing. At least Genghis has stopped, standing there while his companion speaks.
"Just settle down," insists Ghast, keeping his voice steady as he tries to creep closer.
***
Wait whaaaa-? goes the smaller of the two hunting dogs as Jethro barks and charges past. He pauses, turning to peer behind him. What's going on that's got the elder dog so panicked? Hurm. Well, there's a wolf there, he sees that, "But..." Isn't that the whole point of this? They're here to kill wolves, like the big boss dog said! He wants his share of the glory!
The slightly larger one pauses, two steps ahead of her brother. "You heard him," she says with a jerk of her head toward the bulldog.
"But -"
"No but. C'mon!" she orders, and lowers her head in a glare until he meekly nods and starts into motion once more, following her toward the hilltop at a brisk trot.
The delay has cost them, though. It's given the wolves a chance to catch up.
The male yelps out in surprise as Brutal impacts him, thrown down against the snow with a heavy weight of wolf. He scrabbles about madly, whining as he tries to get free... but he's not having much luck. So much for the glory of battle. It's different somehow when it knocks the wind out of you and bruises you, when you can feel that heavy weight on top of you and just can't seem to - never mind fighting, he just wants to get away!
At the sound of her brother's takedown, the female looks back again... just in time to meet Grim's wide-eyed lunatic glee. What in all the - never mind her brother, she's running. She's running like her life depends on it (which it does), straight toward the rest of the dogs. "Help meeeeeeeee!" she shouts, before saving her further breath for running. Shoulda taken the head start while she had the chance, 'cause Grim is catching up...
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Post by Ahiga on Apr 25, 2012 22:30:29 GMT -5
Ahiga hears that bark of warning from Ikuna and instantly knows that he doesn't have the group advantage anymore. They are now all dealing with their own individual problems, and Ahiga's is front and center, the biggest of all. His teeth sink into something tough and fleshy, a tell-tale sign that he has missed his mark of the soft throat, but upon the impact he clamps his jaw down harder, intensifying the bite. This beast is poorly protected. His fur is near nothing, almost just a thin later that lies just above the skin and muscle below. Even nature seems to spite these creatures called dog, making them so different that some are near naked while others are thickly coated. Ahiga's own winter fur is thick, providing a little resistance from fangs, but thick or not the young wolf can feel the mastiff's fangs penetrating his scruff, the warmth of his own blood, and he's soon airborne, tossed aside like an unwanted toy.
He lands on his side, skidding upon the snowy ground a foot or two before stopping, instantly on his paws again with a look as savage as before. He may not have heard or registered Chua's comments regarding their Ute packmate, but the fact that they're here and hostile is enough to get his blood boiling. The distance between himself and Bone is a brief reprieve. The situation needs quick re-evaluation. Taking on Bone by himself is foolhardy, a death sentence, but what else can he do?
He hasn't the time to think of other options, for here comes another dog. One of more manageable size, yet no less terrible. And this smaller dog isn't going to be alone for long with Bone in the mix.
Crap.
Defend and run. Injure the sidekick. Separate the two of them. Bone may be the type to kill off the lame or injured. These thoughts are lightning fast, and then Toby is there. Ahiga lives up to the meaning of his name. He fights.
Just long enough to get away. He hopes. Constant play with his childhood friends has made him quick, and he twists his body to the left to try to avoid those snapping jaws while at the same time counter attacking with a bite aimed to the side of the neck. Injure and dash, that's the plan. He hasn't forgotten Bone.
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Post by Tala on Apr 25, 2012 22:52:04 GMT -5
Tala didn’t want to leave Ikuna or Ahiga on their own but with the two dogs moving towards the den she had to do something. A ear flicks towards her pack mates behind her, she knows they can do this but they just need to keep their head together and not do anything stupid. Which for Tala her anger can get the better of her more then she likes to admit.
Her jaws snap out towards Genghis, fur pulled back within them while she leaps backwards before one of them can give a counter attack. The fur is spit to the ground, her steel gaze flicking from the rather large dog back to Ghast. “Your.. joking right?” She lets out with a thick snarl escapes her white fangs bare once more, a bit of fur still sticking to her maw. Her sides heave as she is breathing rather hard from the run, which really wasn’t that far, and it will be a weakness she only hopes the pair of vermin before her doesn’t pick up.
When Ghast starting to creep closer she swings about in a half lunge right towards Ghast’s face, her jaws moving to snap down upon the side right behind his cheek. Seems her words are done, it’s now time for action. With Genghis so close she knows she’ll have to keep her attention parted so she can hopefully catch his movement before it’s too late..
++++
Jethro isn’t one that likes to run from a fight, but he knows damn well the two younger dogs aren’t worth scraps when it comes to a fight, especially with wolf’s /that/ size. His head tilts slightly; an ear flicking forward as he watches the younger male go down, and then the female is getting the brunt of it from the other wolf.
A faint grumble escapes him, if there is one thing about Jethro his loyal to a fault, he can’t sit back and watch the two become a red stain across the snow. So without missing a beat he turns about, head lowered and without a sound the muscled hog fighter is running back into the fray.. His narrowed brown gaze resting right on Grim..
Once close to the female he lunges forward over her and towards Grim with a thick snarl escaping him, huge jaws open.. He doesn’t expect to do a full out attack on Grim in this position but it is to try and get the wolf to pause in his movement to give the female dog time to get closer to the other dogs.
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Post by Azoto on Apr 26, 2012 15:50:33 GMT -5
Ikuna's anger will prove a weakness in time; seeing that he's inspired fits of rage causes Chua to grin broadly, since that's the exact reaction he was looking for. He does not know the relation between this young brat and the wench he has hidden back at the former 'den' site of the dog pack; but he can tell whatever this connection is, it is both strong, and a weakness in the boy before him. His ears perk slightly forward, and he ducks aside the quick lung for his ribs; his fur, unlike that of many others of the pack is thick, double-coated, and fluffy, the pelt of a chow mix.
In order to make further abuse of that rage, the stiffened red-furred knave lunges in to snap sharply at Ikuna's hips and left back leg, bellowing laughter as he darts back again, wether he made a strike or not, and taunts: "Just as weak as your beloved she-wolf, aren't you, boy. Don't worry, we'll take good care of her till we're bored with her. I'm sure Ghast will take good care of your other she-wolf, too, once him and Genghis wear her down to submission. You know, the one we already took care of.. she cried before we were done.. Oh yes, cried. 'Spirits help me', all that jazz. I think she's even begged for us to kill her once or twice.." he grins cruelly, curled tail wagging vagrant, before he makes for another, harsher lunge; this time going in for a snarling, snappy bite to try and hit Ikuna's shoulder. Chua likes to play with his prey before it's killed.
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Post by Kvatch on Apr 27, 2012 1:09:51 GMT -5
Crushing darkness closes in around the smaller male hound as his body becomes pinned against the frozen earth, his frame violently forced through the crust of the snow with one great shove. But the darkness that envelopes him is a shifting darkness; a living darkness. And before long, a painful darkness. The moment Brutal impacted the unsuspecting hound dog, the huge black wolf drove his chest in hard against the body of the unfortunate, so much that the smaller canine practically disappeared into a pocket of snow and buried beneath black fur. But no sooner does this happen than does Brutal crane his neck and powerful jaws lay into the body of the dog, heavy forepaws wrestling to keep the scared and struggling dog pinned. There is no true mark for which the wolf's fangs seem to to seek, but rather Brutal's jaws just lash and scrape and bite and puncture. A muscle tearing shoulder bite here, a bone crunching forepaw there, a ear ripping slash way over there. Not that the hound is not afforded his own strikes, in fact, Brutal doesn't really make an endeavor to block them. But then, any retaliation his own fangs might score upon the big wolf are often baffled by thick fur and tough muscle. What does seem to spur the massive wolf into further action is the canine's struggle for freedom, at which point the hulking wolf drives in hard at the hound's soft side, great jaws opening wide to close fully upon the dog's middle, just in front of his flank. It is then with one great motion that Brutal shoves himself up away from the earth, relieving the dog from the pressure of his weight, but only for one purpose. As if he were no more than a scrap of rabbit flesh, the muscles in Brutal's broad shoulders coil and his thick neck tenses, just before vigorously shaking the whole body of the hound. He doesn't stay after it long though, for it takes a great strength and effort to lift and propel the dog in such a way. More to the point, Brutal knows that the will of the dog's is to now just flee and so he leaves him too it. Or to at least make a writhing attempt at it.
Maniacal laughter continues to echo through the nearby trees as Grim runs after his tender 'bunny', her loud, frightful plea making the grey wolf grin all the more sadistically, or maybe just egotistically? As the female hound races straight away, the tall grey wolf stays hard on his mark, practically one leap behind. But so great is her terror, that Grim cannot gain on her, but so great is his hunger, that neither can she leave him. One of them would have to give, though the situation does not seem to favor the female hound in face of Grim's tenacity, driven by hunger and a unnatural madness to feed it. How delicately does the female hound's life teeter on the edge, that to stumble, or to fall one step behind would leave her at the mercy of Grim's snapping jaws. As it were, a bit of luck comes for the hunted dog, in the form of a well muscled Jethro and a intensely focused Grim. In fact, so intent is the wolf's fixation, that he doesn't catch sight of the bulldog's barreling approach, until out of his peripheral vision he glimpses a flash of white teeth and pink mouth closing on him! "YIPE!" Jethro's gaping jaws are filled with the fur and flesh at the side of Grim's neck as the tall wolf leaps strait over Jethro in a last ditch effort to avoid a interception that has already happened. However, so great is Grim's forward momentum, that the powerful leap is enough to lift both him and the american bulldog clear off the ground. Though with the weight of a swinging Jethro pulling him down, Grim practically does a summersualt over the head of the dog, causing his skin twists and then rip clean from between the hog hound's jaws. FLUMP! On account of the snow, the impact of his body doesn't quite manage a thud and Grim keeps his wind, but the acrobatic flip is certainly enough to leave the wolf momentarily disorientated. "Heeeey! OW!" he growls in protest, shaking at the smarting pain at his neck and scowling. Oddly enough, Grim is quick to grin again, though it's more of a sneer as he looks towards Jethro, "We're skinning' one at a time here! Why don't you get in line, ugly?" Though a quick glance beyond Jethro brings on a smirk, "OR he could help you out." Not sticking around to wait for a response or explain further, Grim just twist himself upright and in a great bound and spray of wet snow, is racing up the hill in delayed pursuit, oblivious to the three inch flap of bloody hide now dangling off his neck. As for Jethro, were the hog dog to glance behind him to look for the 'helper' in question, he'll probably be inclined to join Grim in the race up the hill, but for a entirely different reason. Because Brutal looks pissed, and after sighting the strip of flesh flapping at Grim's neck, Jethro's name just made the top of his list.
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Post by Pavane on Apr 27, 2012 11:37:59 GMT -5
Chua sees weakness. Ikuna finds strength. His pack has always been his strength. Chewy is gone - but he was gone once, and she still fought for him. Now he's the one who fights for her. This dog attacked her - well, Ikuna will attack him! He'll take the scoundrel down, give him the death he so richly deserves.
It was one thing to let her go, but to hear she was hurt - tortured - by someone so depraved as to brag... it makes the whole thing a mockery. It was a long winter. He tried to wait patiently, but how many times did he think - if Chewy were here...
Ikuna jerks back from Chua's strike to his leg, grimacing in pain - not that the red dog hit him, no. Those jaws got nothing but fur. The jolt of motion hurt his injured tail. Too bad. He ignores the pain, trying not to let it distract him.
He growls at Chua's taunt. Maybe Chewy's even dead - he wouldn't put it past this scoundrel to have killed her and lie about it. If she's dead, she's gone - with her spirits, maybe. Or maybe not.
That would be one way for her to find out if they exist.
Doesn't help him any. Doesn't matter. If Chewy were here...
Chua lunges for him, and Ikuna twists in with those reflexes honed in play and hunt. The red dog's jaws find a place on his shoulder where scars already mark the young wolf; old wounds gone to white streaks and almost faded. Bobcat claws, when he was a pup. Now Chua's teeth find them; not a strong bite, but red blood drips jagged across the scarred flesh. Ikuna's own jaws snap, his form curved to bite for Chua's throat - or failing that, whatever target presents itself.
If Chewy were here... she'd ask him what in the world he was doing, fighting for revenge when the rest of the pack is fighting for their lives. Ikuna blinks, his blind fury breaking with that thought.
Maybe she is dead. If she isn't, she's certainly not here now.
Ahiga is.
Tala is.
Althaea and Hadir are.
Ikuna feints for Chua's shoulder, then falls back, searching the chaos of battle. A pair of strange wolves are seen and dismissed. As for his pack: Ahiga - runs. Tala - surrounded. The den - still safe, but perhaps not for long.
Things aren't looking so good for Ute.
***
Toby's jaws close on Ahiga's fur instead of his flesh; a near miss, one that scrapes tooth against skin without doing real harm and leaves the boxer with a mouthful of fluff. The counterattack is only slightly more successful. Ahiga's jaws find a mark in flesh - but Toby's oversized head partly deflects the strike, making it more glancing than the young wolf intended.
The flung wolf has courage, Bone has to give him that, but it's not going to do him much good. He's trotting toward Ahiga once more when the yipes from the two young hunters and Jethro catch his attention, and he turns to see a large wolf pinning one of his dogs to the ground, and another giving chase. He scowls, and checks his forward motion to turn on Duhali. "You said nothing of those."
The terrier frowns. "They weren't here, before."
Bone's scowl deepens. "A poor excuse for scouting," he says disapprovingly. This wasn't in the plan. It may need his personal attention.
Duhali's ears go back briefly, and she lowers her head.
For now, Bone disregards her. There's a problem to deal with; let the lesser dogs mop up the rest of these. He turns his back on the wolf he cast aside, leaving Toby to brawl with the creature. There are more worthy opponents for him now.
Duhali growls softly, watching Bone leave. Cast aspersions on her, will he? Well, she'll prove herself, she will. Just you watch.
Toby barely even notices he's been left behind with Ahiga, caught up in the thick of battle. He growls, snapping for the wolf's flank and missing again - this time, without even a consolation prize of more fur to stick between his protruding teeth. The rapid motion of his miss, along with a bit of light-headedness, sends him off balance, and he staggers sideways as Ahiga makes with the 'dash' part of his plan.
From large, to medium, all the way to small; Ahiga's battles are not over quite yet, for the terrier lunges in and nips at Ahiga's heels before jumping up to attempt a move well-known to wolves and other hunters - the bite to a deer's thigh, aimed for the soft flesh and blood vessels there. Only, this time, Ahiga is the deer.
***
Well, Ghast had to try, didn't he? His mama always did tell him to be polite! Course, that was before they took him for a railyard dog. Nobody much wanted for him to be nice and polite then. They more wanted to see him mean.
Tala's bite catches at him, tearing off a small strip of flesh and leaving red blood to drip onto the snow. "Aww, you shouldn't ought to have done that," he says in a disappointed tone. "That wasn't a nice thing to do."
Without even a snarl, he simply leaps at her. A lunge in. A bite. A jump away. Quick and silent, like the deathly spirit for which he's named.
The dark to his light is anything but quick - or silent. Even at rest, Genghis' breath is enough to give away his position. His paws fall heavy on the snow, and he lumbers closer, leaning in with a huff to bite at Tala's tail. In that same moment, quiet Ghast leaps in again. Another flash of jaws.
***
Coming late to this battle is Rask, the rough-furred brown dog approaching from the direction of the river in the company of a pretty tri-color collie. He's talking to her, laughing over some joke. He doesn't seem to notice the battle at first, oblivious to the growls and snapping of jaws.
Near them - but not too near - is the fawn borzoi. She steals sidewise glances at the two, and frowns in displeasure. Then she looks away, out over the fight before her, and sight by sight that frown deepens. This is no honorable war. This is no hunt, no test of wit and skill. This... this is a brawl. How distasteful.
She has found much distasteful, since she joined this band of ruffians - yet what choice does she have? They are a pack. They are companions in the hunt (some of them, at least), they are other warm bodies to sleep with in winter. Without them, she would have perished long ago - if not to the cold, to the cruelty of one such as the large wolf who torments that young dog. Brutal, this is. Simply brutal.
Brutal jaws descend once more, and the hound-dog lets out a high-pitched squeal that almost hides the sickening crunch of bones. His forepaw now dangles useless. Desperate, he tries to bite up, jaws snapping as he seeks with increasing fervor to catch something, anything, that isn't air or fur. Some of those bites do land; minor injuries, for the most part. They drip blood down onto him, indistinguishable from his own as both smear his short pelt and mat the wolf's thicker one.
His sister keeps running, trying to avoid her Grim fate; her brother's growing panic spurs her on. Even she barely notices Jethro's return - just as well. If she had, she might have stopped running too soon. As it is, her flight is focused on only one place - away. She doesn't stop even when Jethro barrels into Grim; just keeps racing away. She'll be lucky if something stops her before she reaches the next forest over, at this rate. Actually... maybe she'll be luckier if it doesn't. Grim is once more in pursuit.
Bone ignores the injured hound and the fleeing one. His attention isn't even on Grim, not really. No, he's interested in Brutal; the massive wolf seems a worthy enough opponent for a battle. If it were possible to trace the lineage of each of the spatters of blood marking Brutal's coat, he'd find his brother's there - but what of it? Gristle was fool and coward both.
The mastiff lowers his head, striding in front of Brutal. He snaps out, testing the wolf with feints that make his ears flop until he sees a chance to deliver a more telling blow. There's a certain glee in his features. He's been missing a challenge like this. Duhali may have failed, but he can't be wholly unhappy with the result.
Poor, half-crippled Harry whimpers out as Brutal leaves him behind, and starts trying to drag himself away. It's an awkward sort of thing; he tries and fails to get to his feet, and is left limping along slalom-style through the snow, leaving a splotchy red trail behind.
Even Rask can't utterly ignore these goings-on, though he definitely tries. It takes not only the yelps and growls, but also a pointed look from the borzoi before he finally sighs. "Sorry," he mutters to the collie, then leaves her behind and follows Rayna to where wolves and dogs fight - joining, along with Jethro and Bone, at the part of the fight that's least under control. The borzoi stretches her legs, circling round to the far side of Brutal in a flanking maneuver; a distraction, as Bone engages.
Rask just trots after Grim.
He half-curls his lips up around his teeth, but there's a certain laggardness to his steps. The brown cart-dog isn't exactly in a hurry to engage, not after those gymnastics with Jethro. He'll just... chase Grim away, that's the ticket. He's chasing, see? Definitely chasing. Or at least following, as Grim chases Sally. Too bad about her, really. She's kinda cute. Oh well.
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Post by Ahiga on Apr 27, 2012 17:02:39 GMT -5
He's still alive. Still in this. Ahiga's plan may not be the best thought out, but it's a plan that's keeping him breathing, and if he's alive, then that means he's still able to help his pack. That is his purpose.
Dash.
He has no intention of facing Bone /and/ Toby, and thus once his teeth find flesh and release, he flees. Not away. No way is he leaving his friends or his home to these damn dogs. But he does need to distance himself from the large canine. Only now, as he runs, is he able to assess the others. Ikuna, dealing with Chua. Tala, outnumbered and facing two. Tala! His run is directed to her, a deafening roaring sound flooding his ears and he doesn't realize that it's the sound of his own snarling growl. The pain in his scruff is barely registered, and there's another wound somewhere from Toby that he doesn't realize that he has, but the fresher sting of a bite to the ankle is more difficult to ignore, and he turns his head enough to see a small dog in the corner of his eye.
Really? REALLY? These things just don't stop. Won't leave them alone. Disrupting their peaceful existence, their (mostly) tranquil lives, and for what? It's senseless, and for some reason this terrier's attempts at keeping him from giving aid to his friends, his friends who have done nothing to deserve this attack, angers him even more than Bone's frightful invasion. There's no hesitation. He's never been prey, but he's hunted enough times that he anticipates her attack.
She's a quick little thing though, this small dog, and he anticipates that jump just a hair later than what his mind conjured. She jumps, he whips around in mid stride, trying to avoid her strike altogether and catch her while she's off the ground. But he can feel her teeth catching him, but the long wolf still reaches, jaws snapping aiming to close his jaws around her, whatever part of her he can, with no intention of letting go if he can help it. Death of another animal has only been due to hunting. Hunting only. That is natural. But these dogs? No. These aren't prey to feed on, but death is on his mind. To kill these things, this terrier and her terrible friends, that have disrupted the serenity of their lands and family so wholly.
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Post by Tala on Apr 27, 2012 20:01:05 GMT -5
Tala yanks back quick and hard on the piece of flesh she was able to pull from Ghast and it is quickly spit out. A thick snarl escapes her, hackles raise and lower while she slowly shifts to the side watching Ghast madly. “No.. come closer an I’ll do more un-nice things to you flea bag..”
When Ghast does the first quick attack she is able to escape it, but it puts her back a few steps, and right into Genghis’s reach. Her eyes widen as she hears the heavy paws and feels the hot puff of breath against her flanks and swings her rear to the side just in time to shave her tail. Her right flank is touched with icky dog drool though thanks to the lumbering mastiff.
While she was dealing with playing the keep away game with Genghis it make it easy for Ghast to attack, and his jaws find her left shoulder. A half yelp escapes her once jaws grip into her fur and skin and her head turns going to snap out and try to bite down hard against Ghast’s neck that is so close to her now..
This could be a problem..
++++
Jethro wasn’t really expecting to get any part of the wolf, he merely wanted to get the female some time to try and escape her soon to be death. A faint muffled snarl escapes him as he finds himself getting pulled into the air thanks’ to the force that Grim has in his forward movements. His paws leave the ground for a moment while his jaws snap down tight and his head twists to the side in a sort of crocodile like maneuver to cause the fur and skin of Grim’s neck to twist about in a rather painful donkey like back, just imagine the blunt teeth replaced with fangs..
Once the two are back on solid ground Grim is fully down for at least a moment Jetrho is at least able to land on all four paws, just in a crouched position. The bits of fur and skin is spit from his mouth, his hackles raised and another snarl escapes him while he snaps out at Grim, though going not to try an bite him now, a snap for a paw and then a leg.. Though not to actually grab the wolf, Jehtro is a strange one, perhaps his playing with the wolf?.. Most likely not, he actually didn’t mean to get a bite in when he did, but accidents happen.
His ears flick forward heading Grim, a smirk crossing his face. “Skinning.. really.. your find them pups an’t good enough for it, and not enough meat on ‘em to give anyone a good meal.” Perhaps he already thought about that. His ears flick forward while he watches Grim as he takes off after that comment. He isn’t new to this game, and while he doesn’t look back he doesn’t stand still either. His is quick on his paws, sliding half way through the snow and turns himself around to do a full face on maneuver so he can see what Brutal is doing.. By now bone is there and he just grins while he suddenly charges forward towards Brutal, bloody jaws snapping out the wolf, going for a shoulder as Bone goes for another place to attack.
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Post by Azoto on Apr 28, 2012 16:04:43 GMT -5
Teeth find Chua's shoulder, ripping it open, but the pain was something expected when fighting anyway - you don't go into a fight expecting to come out unscathed in situations like this. But his response when teeth find his shoulder is to snarl, curl his head, and try for Ikuna's neck instead, snapping sharply and abruptly for the scruff, nape, side, anything can find, and barring that, ears or face. One rough foreleg also flies up to shove and slash for Ikuna's chest; he is no cat, but shoving with a paw would create enough distance to back off.
This young wolf is enraged; while that may also leave him open for mistakes, it also makes him dangerous, and Chua knows he has opened a particularly awful can of worms here. But he will not back down. Not against this young brat of a wolf, and when Ikuna is dead, not against the other brats. He knows not yet about Brutal or Grim, for they are not his concern; schooling this dumb boy with sharp teeth and the ultimate lesson is.
-----
Movement is slow going; a broken leg, a ripped and torn body with bad healing and little grooming has left the she-wolf stiff and sore. And then there's the act of staying hidden, of keeping out of sight of the brutes attacking her home. Wachiwa is quiet, despite the aching pain, the throbbing in her leg, and the churning sickness in her stomach that the thought of the large dog pack taking on her smaller, dwindling wolf pack brings. But she continues to make her way, slowly, limping along, sticking to shadows, staying down wind, despite teeting slightly. As she nears the pack home, she can already hear that she's too late to warn, but she can tell she's not too late to help.
She waits only moments in hiding to assess the situation; the sight of dogs moving for the den spurs her away; she knows there's only one thing she can do for the den. She needs to find Skahla and alert him.
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Post by Kvatch on Apr 28, 2012 16:38:14 GMT -5
There are a great number of advantages that come with being the size as one such as Brutal, to not only meet a impressive height at the withers, but to possess a great width of chest and shoulder. How grand it must be to pull the bull elk down with ease, to stand fast in the face of your enemies; to stand upon that primordial right to go your way unmolested and give trail to no one. Brutal, however, has never know these things. Not just a big wolf, but perhaps the biggest these parts have ever seen, he is unnatural in size, and in turn, unnatural in his surroundings. A wolf of the north. He is the sort of beast that makes up the things of nightmares told to young cubs who act out. The sort of monster that stalks through the minds of cowardly men, but the prized trophy that gleams in the eyes of the fearless hunter. By trap and by snare, by dog and by man, Brutal's great size has gained him naught but misery. Grim, of course, would boast of a time when Brutal laid waste to a pack of near twenty hounds. There were only twelve. And they were young, foolish dogs; and he a young, foolish wolf. Foolish to love. Foolish to dream. But no good dream can a monstrous thing made of nightmares ever be allowed to dream, and with that final chocking gasp, he woke up. While crippled Harry's blood is still warm upon Brutal's face and tasted upon his tongue, poor Gristle has already been forgotten, but the dead dog still proves to be as much of a aggravation in death as he was in life, with his blood freezing stiffly in Brutal's neck ruff. Dog filth. It is bad enough to have to look at it, to smell it and taste it, to listen to it's yowling. But to wear it? As he moves with no real amount of hurried need towards Jethro, Brutal gives his massive shoulders and thick neck a shake, as if doing so might rid himself of some of the aforementioned filth. It also gives him an opportunity to look beyond his next assailant, the shadow of a wolf coming to stand silently in place, his panting but the sound of minor exertion, and watching with a vague regard as Jethro rises up from his crouch to consider Grim, only to turn towards Brutal himself. Brutal ignores the hog dog's approach. Yellow eyes track his brother up the hill, and note the big mastiff coming down. He ignores Bone. Eyes narrow to glimpse the two young male wolves at the hill top, fleeing and fighting. No, not quite fleeing. He knows that kind of rushing rage, the deadliest kind, the kind which has suddenly seized the larger of the two males. It brings Brutal to narrow his eyes more, to discern the distinct sleekness of the young she-wolf beyond and the two dogs heckling her. Yes, indeed he does know it well. Love- and the threat of losing it. Merry laughter. Casual paw-steps. A dark ear jerks in the direction of sounds unnatural in battle, the appendage's focus shortly joined by a set of yellow eyes. More dogs? crap. That makes at least eleven, not counting the dead one in the marsh! Brutal once laid waste to twelve.
Once.
When he was young and foolish.
Now he is older. Wiser.
Brutal is down to mere seconds before defense of self will become a necessity, but in those ticking seconds by which every heart beats, by which all life and death is measured, Brutal calls out to Grim, his voice booming to the very sky, his words poetic and rhythmic, despite the gruffness of scared vocal cords from a lifetime of snarling, "Live another day! Fight another fight! Shatter bones in breaking light!" The words are as old as the brothers themselves, with humble beginnings born of two young cubs always ready to take on the world, but not the wrath of a angry cub sitter. Setting his attention on the dogs before him, another noise now escapes Brutal, one that sounds almost excruciating to produce, for it rips frightfully from his throat and throttles in the depths of his chest. A resonating sound that is accompanied by a curling of dark flews, distorting Brutal's generally attractive, if rather roguish features into a grotesque grimace. However, the massive wolf's movements are small despite the number of dogs encroaching upon him, his body tightly coiled like a steel trap waiting to be sprung. He tucks his tail and haunches in, practically sitting in the snow, but hardly vulnerable and off balance. Hardly submissive and hardly defeated. His large paws shift with minor adjustments, the sort that would allow him to turn swiftly into those brave enough to test him; which they do, and which he does. For Jethro's eager lunge is successful, with his fangs scoring deep on Brutal's shoulder; but so too does the wolf turn his head a slight, seeking to sink fangs into the side of Jethro's stretched and exposed neck. It is a lighting quick retaliation, like how one might snap at a bothersome horsefly. As soon as he is afforded a chance, yellow eyes follow the graceful, deadly elegance of the borzoi who moves to flank him, yet his gaze does not quite harbor the disgust and hatred for which he seems to meet the others with. It is surprisingly questioning, yet deeply disappointed. He does not hide it either, meeting her gaze evenly. Strangely, but not in a manner of disrespectful dismiss, he lets her flank him, looking away to turn a hardened stare upon the mastiff dog who walks with too much arrogance, who seeks to deal death too eagerly. A proud dog. A familiar dog. The brother to a dead dog. Quite oddly, Brutal's growling dies out as he meets Bone's intense, battle-thirsty gaze, a sly smirk suddenly crawling across a face it has no business being on, made that much stranger by the blood that covers it. More disturbing, perhaps, is the low chuckling that replaces the sound of animosity that had been there only seconds ago. Though as Brutal speaks, the wolf has lost none of his aversion. "You know, wouldn't have took ya for the coward your brother said you were. But now that it comes down to it, I think I'm inclined to agree. He was brave enough to fight me by himself. Seems to me you're just a weak pup, content to take advantage of the brave and manipulate them to your whims, to have them fight your fights and give up their lives, so that you might continue to exist in their stead." A pause. A quick glance to Jethro, a ear pivot to seek the movement of the sight hound. Then a shrug of shoulder. "Of course, it matters not to me. I have proven my bravery. My only regret would be that you would have me kill those who are undeserving of death, before you could visit it upon me yourself. Coward indeed."
Brutal. Older.Wiser. But perhaps still a fool.
----
The hog dog had been forgotten the moment that Grim left him sitting there in the snow, but not before Jethro's remark made it into his head and bounced around a few times. Say, come to think of it, the thing did look pretty scrawny. And damn, this hill didn't look that steep. And ugh, how the hell can she run that fast? Pant. Wheeze. Out..of..breath. By the time Grim reaches the top of the sloping hill, his swift gait slows to a halfhearted trot, gold eyes watching the fleeing female, who doesn't seem nearly as appetizing as she did when she wasn't running away from him. Or before he had to dodge ugly dogs, or preform aerial acrobatics from failing to do said dodging. Hell, for all the trouble this has turned out to be, Grim would have much rather just gone back and eaten the dog Brutal dispatched earlier. Now why didn't he think of that before? Of course, it is too late for that now and even if he had thought of it, it would have been a pointless suggestion. Brutal was dead set on intervening in the lives of strangers and what kind of brother would Grim have been to leave him to it? He owed Brutal a great many things, but of these things, the most important to Grim is a debt that Brutal never asked for to begin with. Loyalty. Not the circumstantial loyalty that is commanded by the power of rank, or forced by the fear of a tyrant. But neither is it the loyalty to a mate or to family, such as would be expected of the two wolf brothers. It is a loyalty to do right by him, no matter the cost. In such, Grim could not rightfully abandon Brutal to his intentions of helping the young wolves and their small pack. Try and talk him out of it, sure, but not abandon. Yet now, as the sound of Brutal's deep voice calls out to him, that loyalty is tested again. Turning to look back down the slope at the situation that has developed -and rapidly slipped out of hand- he watches the dogs close in on the hulking black wolf in the center, as if Brutal were some dark vortex that had opened up and was now drawing the dogs into him. Of course, he wasn't blind to Rask coming up the hill in something of a pursuit and Grim can only assume it includes him. Meh. Grim's concern isn't for Rask. No, his attention lingers on his brother, meeting his eyes for a moment, until it is Brutal who turns away. "Dammit Brutal." These are the words quietly uttered by a hesitating Grim. He takes a step down the slope. Loyalty. No matter the cost. With gritted teeth and a growl, Grim turns sharply away and does right by his brother. He goes to help the young wolves. Grim has no idea how big or small this wolf pack is, it never much concerned him so long as it wasn't his tail they were chasing. Brutal on the other paw always kept tabs on them, observed their comings and goings, watched their play from a distance, and shared not so much as a word in regards to it all. Creepy really, if you asked him. Grim even told Brutal that. Brutal just smiled. That made him look creepier. Grim never brought it up again. And now a part of him had wished he had. This pack wasn't small, it was tiny! Pausing for a moment, golden eyes dance across to Ikuna, with Grim assessing the big furry red dog intent on harassing the wolf, before glancing towards Toby, another dog in close proximity. Grim's gaze starts to shift away to the others, only to jerk back to the boxer quite abruptly, exclaiming with no small amount of astonishment and volume, "WHOA!...Buddy..." A grimace. "Yikes! Did you have some terrible accident with a wall? Maybe slammed into a tree? Or did your momma just drop you on your face? Cause that's one shoved in snooze ya got!" Squint. "Can you still breathe like that?" It is almost difficult to take offense to the wolf's words so great is Grim's genuine awe and sympathetic questioning. Almost, but not quite. With something of a shuddering, now-forever-haunted-by-that-sight shiver, Grim focuses attention back to the task at hand, speaking to Ikuna, but loud enough for any wolf to hear, "Hey! Got a back door 'round here? Cause if not, we need to make one. Post haste."
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Post by Pavane on Apr 28, 2012 22:20:37 GMT -5
Oh, Ikuna's definitely learning things in this fight.
Also, being reminded of some useful things he already knows - like how to move with an injured shoulder. At least it's the same one, so he remembers just how to properly limp with the wound! Bite marks this time instead of claws, though. Wolf-claws aren't so good at wounding, though Chua's push does shove him back somewhat.
In part, because he's not resisting it. Chua will die, that part is not open to questioning. If possible, he'll die by Ikuna's jaws - but that's not the important thing right now. He has all the time in the world to kill Chua, and not so much of a chance to avoid having other dogs add themselves to the 'must die' list. The white one and the big black one are getting real close to doing that.
What Grim says is more or less what's on Ikuna's mind.
They need to get out of here.
Maybe the dogs won't follow. Most of them seem distracted by the larger of the strange wolves.
...what _were_ the two of them doing this close to Ute, anyhow? Not that he's not grateful, but...
No time now.
"Ahiga! Get Tala!" he shouts. That part's obvious, but there's more. "Get outta here!" He lowers himself to the ground, crouching in readiness - then leaps toward Chua and past him, racing for the den. He can at least make sure Hadir and Althaea and the rest get out - that they have a chance to flee. Maybe he can delay the dogs for long enough. He'll certainly try.
***
Two canines meet in battle. One large; the other small. The smaller one is fierce; full of courage. The smaller leaps for the larger, and finds a mark - though not quite the one intended. The powerful jaws of the larger descend.
That already happened.
It happens again.
This time, Ahiga is the larger; he is the giant to Duhali's small courage. She is the one who leaps to the attack, and his jaws are the ones that descend.
He hasn't killed before, save in hunting - yet the small body of the terrier is not so different than that of a hare. It is fragile in all the same ways. Life itself is a fragile thing, in the end.
His grip is firm; her body, just behind the shoulder. A little off-center, but his teeth prick firmly into the flesh. She's warm, beneath the wiry fur. He can feel the beat of her heart, the quick rise and fall of her lungs as she struggles.
Her jaws let go, as she fights for her freedom - just as the hare fights. As the deer fights. Ahiga bleeds from where she bit... but not badly. Just a wound, not the life-draining one she intended.
Ahiga has her, despite her struggle.
It doesn't take much. A firm shake, and her neck will snap. A crunch of his jaws... that would be slower, but there's time. Bone has gone off to deal with other wolves, and while Toby is pushing himself back to his feet, he's slower now. Too slow to get here in time.
Now's the chance.
***
A problem? Oh, there sure is a problem. Ghast frowns at Tala. Such unpolite language! Doesn't anyone teach these wolves manners?
Well. Lucky for her, he's here now. Here. For her!
He's got her shoulder in his jaws, still without a growl. He holds the grip for a moment, turning his head to twist the skin painfully. Tala snaps for his throat, but he's got control in this position - keeping her jaws just barely far enough away. Just barely - her breath ruffles the fur. She could stick out her tongue and touch; but her teeth can't quite get there. So close, and yet.
Ghast holds like that; the position painful, but not particularly injuring. His ears are perked, and so is his tail, and there's a slight rumble in his throat that... no, that's no growl. It might, in fact, be a laugh. He touches his tongue to the caught skin. A lick?
Genghis growls, deep in his chest.
There's a brief answering snarl from Ghast, but after another moment of the giant black dog's displeasure, Ghast releases Tala and jumps back with a pout. "I wasn't done."
Genghis rumbles deeper, still not speaking words.
"They're not all like that. They can be taught." Ghast scowls, his tone petulant. "This one's mine."
***
Rayna meets Brutal's gaze, but there is nothing proud in her eyes. No challenge there. Just... acknowledgement. So here we are; here it is. So it goes.
Some other day, things might be different, you and I. This is today.
The borzoi holds her position, her flanking that keeps Brutal's attention split. Such are the tactics of her instinct and training; such is her place.
Bone pauses in his approach as Brutal speaks, as he did not for the growl. "Gristle?" he ponders, then laughs. "So, he's dead." It's not a question. Nor is there any particular sorrow in his tone. No pleasure, either, but if he regrets his brother's death... well. "He always was a fool."
"If they die, they deserve death. Simple." The mastiff bares his teeth, between snarl and smile. "Save your nobility for wolves. A noble dog strains in the traces until he dies. Stupid."
Rayna's ears go back at that; a subtle motion, with no blatant rebellion. Still; the borzoi seems displeased.
Bone doesn't seem to notice. "You're wrong one way. My pack doesn't do it for /my/ existence." Mid-conversation, he lunges forward, either to bite at Brutal or else to push him toward Jethro. He has the advantage of numbers, and he intends to use it. Not noble, no. Pragmatic. "They do it for theirs."
***
Sally, she just keeps right on running. Going, going... gone.
And Grim, well, he's not following. Rask kinda slows down too, because now there's a wolf that's pointed toward /him/! That wasn't in his plan. He much preferred this when it was chasing Grim away from a nice safe distance. Welp.
Slipping away into the forest - is that a possibility? Can he get away with that? He glances around. Maybe that'd work, yea- crap. Now Toby's looking his way on account of those insults. Well, Grim's way, but he's near enough to get caught in that gaze. Bone might let him get away with it. Toby? Nuh-uh.
...admittedly, the wolf's kinda funny with that stuff. Rask can't help smirking, even though Toby is clearly not at all amused. Growling and everything! Yikes. Okay, better get to business.
Rask gives a half-hearted sort of a growl, and pads stiff-legged toward Grim. That's right. The wolf had better get out of here. Or else. Grrrrr.
***
At last, Skahla emerges. Not that the alpha has been absent; he may not have joined the battle, but he's been in the entrance of the den. The last line of defense.
He's been watching, as the situation grows more desperate; as things go from bad through to worse. It's the sight of yet another shape in the trees that brings him out. He can't tell what it is; not from this distance. Not from that brief glimpse, before it slips away. Perhaps it's another dog, come to bring more of the creatures here - or, worse; it did seem to be eyeing the den. If it is, if it's not alone...
The alpha makes his appearance; not to fight, but to herd away the noncombatants in a brief moment when it seems none of the dogs' eyes are upon them; before that lurker in the forest can bring a horde down on his head. He does it in as much silence as he can manage, secret even from the other wolves. It pains him for his siblings' sake - but he must, for the sake of his pups.
Skahla takes them south, through the forest from which Grim and Brutal came, and from there to the fogs and uncertain paths of the swamp. The wolves of Ute know that territory, and perhaps in it they can slip away to safety faster than the dogs can pursue.
So he hopes. In the heavy mists of the swamp, it's easy to become confused and lost.
***
Blood loss is a source of confusion as well. Harry drags himself across the snow, and in the growing darkness of his world, the sight of Ute's den sparks something familiar in him; that instinct of every wounded animal to hide beneath the earth. He drags himself toward it, leaving blood spattered across the ground. It's amazing how much blood one creature can hold; amazing he's still moving.
He reaches it to find it empty, though it stinks of wolves only recently departed. The effort of dragging himself inside opens his wounds further, and the churned-up snow gains bright red streaks... but he manages it. The dying hound tumbles inside the den to darkness, and is silent.
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Post by Ahiga on Apr 28, 2012 23:49:53 GMT -5
His fangs sink into warm flesh. Like the other dog, this miniature version’s coat provides no resistance at all to the pointed edges of Ahiga’s teeth. She’s so small. She’s a female. Something about her being of the opposite gender should give him pause, an age-old instinct to claim them and protect them. But there is no pause, no hesitation. This terrier is not male or female, it is an enemy, and in the world of enemies, gender makes no difference. His grip tightens as she struggles in his mouth, and he lifts her off the ground like the prey animal that she has become.
But she isn’t prey. A tiny portion of his mind reminds. She is not a creature one takes to feed himself or his family. That is what hunting is for. The taking of another’s life to sustain the lives of others. This isn’t hunting. This is murder. But even Ahiga’s conscience doesn’t put up much of a fight in this case, for in this case, murder is the right thing to do. And so after it’s quiet reminder, it shuts itself up and lets Ahiga do his thing because even it wants revenge to be satisfied.
Like a rag doll, Ahiga whips his head from side to side twice, like he would with any small morsel, to shake the dog like no dog should be shaken, his force hard til he hears that telltale snap. Then she is discarded, dropped to the ground and he turns even before the soft thud of her contact to the snowy earth is heard. Immediately he’s on the move again, returning to his pursuit of Tala. This is an impossible situation. The dogs multiply like a plague. When one is down, two more show up! And they are only three...three, with aid from unknown wolves he had not noted. Grim and Brutal. The unknown song of retreat does ring in his ears, and there’s a part of him that resists. How can they retreat and leave their home to the disease of dog? But what hope he had to drive these dogs off is gone now. There are too many and too few defenders. They have to get out of here.
Ikuna’s reiteration of retreat solidifies the fact, and he silences his growl as he gets closer to Tala and her assailants. By this point she’s been freed by Ghast’s grip, but he knows Tala. Given the chance, she’ll attack again. “Tala, GO!” said when he’s upon the three of them, jaws opening and closing once as he shoves his body into Ghast’s, trying to buy them a few precious seconds. His eyes meet those of Tala. "Now, Tala. Now!" Now he's fleeing. Not fleeing to help, but fleeing for his life and the lives of his friends. Away from the den. Down the opposite side of the hill. If the dogs chase them, great. That'll give Ikuna some more time.
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Post by Tala on Apr 29, 2012 0:08:13 GMT -5
Tala can be rather unpolite indeed! Especially when said dog is chewing on her shoulder like a rat would with a bit of cheese. Her jaws snap at Ghast’s fur, trying to figure out someone to grab, but at the angle she just can’t pivot in the right way. She is caught and unable to move, and stands there, form tensed up as she wonders how in the heck she is going to get out of this. Her head lowers, fangs bare while her eyes narrow, anger clearly seen glowing in that steel blue gaze of her's.
The lick is felt and she isn’t sure what to say, or how to feel towards it. With a blink a glance is sent towards Ghast, blood tinged lips parting perhaps in shock at first but soon enough she snarls. “Let me GO!” Her ears lower once more as she hears the deep rumble from Genghis and her form twitches, muscles tensing and she is about to try and jump away until she is let go..?
Tala stumbles back a few steps, a hard cough escaping her in the process, all the anger and built up stress isn’t helping her already hurting lungs here. She swallows a moment while her gaze settles upon the two dogs near her. “Taught? I’m not some d@mn dog. I don’t get taught nothing. I kill you stupid flea bags that’s what I do.” This is not ‘How to Train your Wolf!’ Her fangs are bare as she says this, a wild look seen in her eyes while some blood slowly trickles down her shoulder. Ghast’s teeth did just enough damage to cause her to bleed, though with the way she is breathing all the bouncing around most likely did more damage then the bite. “I belong to no one!” This said once she catches on that Ghast wants her? Oh boy… Where is this crazy train headed?
A precious few moments it taken for Tala to gather her breath it seems, while ‘Hannibal Lector’ Ghast, and ‘Drooly pants’ Genghis eye one another. In fact Tala is about to try and attack Ghast once more until Ahiga’s voice rings clear. Her steel gaze drifts to him as he is running towards her and with a mad snort she turns and takes off running, soon to be joined by Ahiga once he is able to do a run by wolfing on Ghast. This was not supposed to happen. This is their HOME. Her gaze drifts just long enough to catch sight of Ikuna going towards the den and she glances back towards Ghast and sticks her tongue out at him. Taunt time! Anything to buy Ikuna a few extra moments.
++++
Jethro’s neck was exposed for a few moments, though his shoulder was pushed forward while he twisted slightly having a feeling the large monster size wolf might try something like that. His shoulder feels the teeth graze across it, puncture into it and the one thing that saves him is the fact that Bone is most likely there. A few deep punctures and teeth grazing now mare his white fur and rests across the upper part of where his neck and shoulder connect. It’ll hurt like all get later but for right now his adrenaline pumping keeps the pain at bay for now.
He dances off, large paws kicking up snow and dirt in his movements and he comes to a pause next to the bozoi, his ears slowly perk forward bright gaze drift from Bone to Brutal and his large head tilts. Drool hangs from the corner of his floppy lips which is tinged red with blood. “What do you think sweetness?” This is questioned to Rayna, a snaggled tooth grin seen for a moment as he checks to see what the sight-hound thinks of the large wolf’s comments. The flick of her ears is caught and he only hums while letting his gaze turn back towards Bone and Brutal.
Unlike Rayna he doesn’t have the leisure of standing back and acting all pretty, though he does count himself to be one of the most handsome dogs in the group! Once Bone is snapping at Brutal he steps forward, head lowered and ears pinned back. His shoulder a bleeding mess thought it could have been worse, an yet with him pressing back into the fight it could get much worse.
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Post by Azoto on Apr 29, 2012 15:37:00 GMT -5
Ikuna charging for him sends Chua bristling, ready for impact.. that does not come. instead, the young wolf moves past, for the den, and the red-furred brute whirls, snarling at this. Oh no he don't, Ikuna ain't going to run from a fight that easily. Chua is chasing after Ikuna, snapping at air, and then lunging for thew young wolf's backside, to latch teeth onto the kinked,l broken tail with intent to yank back on that, maybe rip it off entirely at the kink. Either way, teeth seek to break bone and rip flesh and fur.
Chua is also in position to see Skahla running from the den with the two young pups; this causes him to bellow eagerly, "Bone! The den is ours!" as he continues to chase after Ikuna; if the pups are gone, that means there's no need to worry about really laying claim. He does not know the older wolf he just saw was the Alpha; he does not know where the Alpha's mate is either; he does not need to /care/. Any females left behind will be conquered. Any females left.
----
Speaking of females, that shape Skahla saw eying the den, which slips away, is to be found in the foggy mist of the moors and swamp; Wachiwa is limping, frantically, along the path she knew they would often travel to mark the border, looking for Skahla. She is lucky enough to see him, bringing Hadir and Althaea with; but the lack of the third pup is breifly a worry-- did Skahla lose his other daughter in escape? Wachiwa makes no sound over this; instead giving Skahla only a weak nod.
Then the one-eyed she-wolf turns and starts to run, as fast as her broken, ripped body will let her, back for the dens. To find the missing pup, most likely; but to make sure /her/ pups, her young trio escape, as well. Her Ikuna, her Tala, her Ahiga; they are more important than anything; for as far as she knows, they are the future of the pack, with Hadir so ill, and she so broken.
As she lopes for the den, she gives a weak, raspy howl; a call. A warning. A begging cry; please, pups, come back.
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Post by Kvatch on Apr 30, 2012 20:41:56 GMT -5
Perhaps in accordance to his brother's perspective, Brutal's circumspect observations of the Ute pack in the past several months did teeter on a fine-line between casual curiosity and creepy psycho stalker. Admittedly yes to the first, because Brutal was curious. And arguably yes to the second, but only because he did so with ulterior motive. He needed to get a feel for the pack, a sense of ethical alignment, but most of all, social acceptance. He needed these things, because he needed to know how to approach them; or more to the point, how to introduce /them/ to Grim. All winter Brutal had been waiting for a chance, a opportunity. He even consulted the Spirits, requesting their help. Clearly, he should have been more specific in prayer. Brutal continues to hold his ground, his posture still tense, his demeanor collected and stoic. It is the calm before the storm, the breath before the plunge. Gristle's death, as Bone speaks of it, is neither confirmed or denied by the massive wolf through spoken word or otherwise. Instead, Brutal just goes on listening to the mastiff's speech, glowering yellow eyes set firmly upon the dog, narrowing only when Bone remarks on matters of demise. At which point, Brutal is quick to interject sternly, his tone almost scolding and passionate in sincerity, "Do not be so eager to deal out death in judgement! Many that live deserve death. Some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them?" Those yellow eyes narrow all the more, his gaze as hard as stone upon the face of the mastiff, but looking well beyond the dog's visage; looking to see his mind, searching for proof that conciliation has failed. He doesn't have to search long, the gleam of animosity flaring a second before the mastiff's lunge. With a great snarl, Brutal is there to meet Bone, those collected haunches releasing the power of muscle and bulk as the hulking wolf drives forward hard. Though it is not for Bone's throat for which the big wolf strikes, for it would take a great effort and struggle to grasp and throttle the mastiff through the loose folds of skin and thick muscle such are the traits of his breed, never mind trying to do it with the possibility of Jethro and the graceful borzoi pitching in upon his vulnerable back. Instead, it is for something far less expected; Bone's lower, gaping jaw. It is Brutal's intent to seize the hinged appendage in full, to capture it the way a dog might carry a stick or bone crossways. It is a movement that would cause no small amount of pain and wrecking to the bridge of his own muzzle just from the mastiff's upper canines, never mind Bone's own bite force. But should success be his, the massive Brutal intends to throw every bit of his weight into the attack. To sacrifice the flesh of his hindquarters, his back, and his shoulders to whatever liberties Jethro and Rayna might take upon them. But to also commit the strength of his own jaws and neck to one, single endeavor. To bite and rend and twist and wrench with enough violence to break the lower jaw of the mastiff.
It is a difficult endeavor, having to resist the urge to return his attention back to stare at the smashed in face of the boxer. Besides, didn't Brutal always say it is impolite to stare? Then again, everything Grim does is impolite, according to his brother. And as Toby's anger shows blatantly on his face, the distortion of his features makes it all the more challenging, but against all odds, Grim resist the temptation. Wouldn't Brutal be proud! Maybe. If the reason wasn't because Grim found something even more distracting to stare at! In a effort to access the situation and prioritize where his presence would be most beneficial, the tall grey wolf had given a glance of consideration toward Ahiga and the female wolf in who's assistance the young male was already heading. Though it was not Tala and the two baffoons crowding her that Grim's gaze settled, but Ahiga. Well, sorta. In a strange, almost astounded fashion, the tall wolf just watches as Ahiga shakes the small dog in his jaws, spitting her to the snowy earth without so much as a single, caring glance. GASP! The horror! The total disregard! How could he be so dismissive?! That wee-doggy was a meal and a half! A small, soft whine escapes Grim and he licks wantonly over his lips, eyes dancing from twitching warm meat, to fleeing wolves, to angry dogs. Whimper. Growl. "Gah, dammit to hell!" With Ahiga and Tala both fleeing together, it makes for a better chance of a successful escape. Ikuna, however, is not only by himself, but also running in a different direction. It is a quick decision and one for which Grim is equally quick to act on, what with the forward engaging movement of Toby in front and Rask from behind providing that extra motivation. Like a shot, Grim is off and speeding toward Toby, though hardly with the intention of engaging the poor ugly bloke. He wouldn't want to mess Toby's face up any more than it already it is. Instead, Grim just leaps over him, practically spring boarding off the boxer as he races to catch up to Ikuna. However, about the time he reaches Ikuna and the big chow mix, who is literally nipping at the young wolf's heels and tail, a scent and the sight of a furry body laying on the ground catches Grim's attention. Say, is that a..? It is! Rabbit! Oh happy day! Lowering his head, Grim preforms a beautiful snatch and run that even the best of scavengers would be jealous of, giggling gleefully like a crazed hyena. However, in the time the dead rabbit has spent laying there, discarded and forgotten in lieu of battle, the rigors of death have set in and the lapin rides stiffly in Grim's jaws. Though not by the middle has Grim captured the stiff corpse, but by it's stretched hind quarters, carried just so that as the tall grey wolf dives swiftly forward to cut a sharp path between Ikuna and his pursuer in a attempt to throw off the chow's attack, Chua stands a good chance of getting smashed up side the head by stiff, frozen rabbit! Grim hasn't forgotten his manners though, well, not all of them. Because between a mouthful of frozen bunny, he does offer up a giggling "Excuse me!"
[OOC: By the way, Brutal so gets a brick upside the head for using movie quotes. *BRICK*o.O ]
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