< A woman weeping in despair says, >

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- thread timed straight after her fight with Almight -

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A melody of the most sinister, malevolent voices chorused within her unhinged mind-box, dismally unsatisfied by the outcome of her recent ordeal.
With her head faced downwards, the perilous hound was careless in which direction she sought, pounding the earth as she marched onwards. The sweet scent she initially pursued was slowly dissipating anyhow, and that was her only intention. The revolution of the cogs in her head whirred around repeatedly: why could she not have just stretched and reached the trachea that fed meaningless life into his lungs? She took a pause in her stride, with these thoughts tormenting her. The hostility within her was still at unease, refusing to subside or submit.
A guttural snarl then snapped at the ground in frustration, and at the feud within herself. Eyes lingering on her mud-slicked paws, she tasted the behemoths' nectar of blood across tainted teeth and that fuelled her initial rage once more. Causing her to hesitate and think twice — one thought with turning on heal, back toward her competitor, to tease and cajole the man again; the other thought laced with torture, absolute retribution.
Never mind the confrontation earlier, she was now in her own chamber of fray. Should she slog on and release that jagged sword that was her temper, or return to finish off what she certainly hadn’t started but fully intended on finishing?

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@Vengeance

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[sfont=Benne]Within the pasture something had called to him. The mist mixed a bitter sweet aroma that was almost familiar - it belonged to Almight, his "son" as the boy proclaimed to be. Someone else's mixed with it as it swirled with the haze, calling him to march forward and investigate what this was all about.  

Things were a stir in the Temperate as news came from Elkshire of the betrayal that came to the queen from those who had left. Oh what a beautiful day that was to loosen their leashes and how excited the Nightwalkers would be in knowing that killing was now on the list with certain individuals they could find. 

But this was not one of them. He had smelled both of the traitors and their stench - this one was new. Feminine mixed with that of Almight's and he rolled in to investigate with heavy paws cutting through the alabaster shroud. The rain did little to ease its presence, only adding to its weight as it carried onto his thick pelt, seeping down into his undercoat. Some of the grime managed to slip away into the grasses with the moisture washing down on his back, but it did little for his rotten stench.

Through the pale haze a dark figure caught his cardinal eye. As he approached silently, he scrutinized her every step along the way. She was not feasting on their prey and was simply existing in his mist - so he had no real reason to approach aggressively... for now. A low rumble in his throat announced his presence to draw her attention in to her next, new problem.[/sfont]

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With displeasure etched on her face, she made the decision to go back. The tug-of-war between moving forward and returning was now over, so the unbalanced canine turned toward the dangling carrot of a scent that was the grey male she fought. Pads of her feet churned the mud beneath her only for a few loping steps before she heard his war-ridden threat.
The haze and heavy rain muffled her vision, and she clocked the murky shadow close by. She set her target onto him, believing it was the very guy she had sunk her flashy white teeth into just moments earlier.
He must’ve followed her, to ensure she had actually left the claimed area.
 
FUCK. YOU.
 
Engaging her legs into full motion, she ran to the hidden behemoth. Her high aim was to barrel her body into him, but on approach, the glint of two cherries breaking through the barrier of mist were eyeing her. She managed to slow the pressured gait, in time to keep a reassuring distance to this new mass of a beast as she got close to him.
She panted, scrutinizing him with her large hazardous eyes. Blue tongue lolling as she refilled her airways. But a vexed snarl spat at him in greeting, more so in frustration at the sight of a different giant.

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[sfont=Benne]In no time she was quick to go on the offensive. There he stood like an obelisk in the mist, waiting for her to chose her path, eyes glimmering with excitement for her to elicit a fight. The blood in the air indicated to him that she was wounded, perhaps sore from a previous loss - was she really this fired up to start a new round with a different opponent? How exciting.

There were many females he had come across as of late with that same fire. Not all were able to be tamed and brought back to the mist with him to aid in his conquest over the temperate, and yet still he would try. Try and try again to lure them into his kingdom to come and spread the malice he held like the disease they were meant to be. Such ferocity did no good when left unused. Left to rot in the wilderness after a battle lost. 

The woman stopped, and he too snarled in a greeting with his own flash of stained weaponry. Hers were pale and polished - his dingy and yellowed. “You smell of a Nightwalker - who did you cross before me?” He drawled deeply, letting the words linger in the air like tar for her ears to catch.[/sfont]

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Stained, blemished teeth were what addressed her, right in the eye-line of her dilated, demonic eyes. His dimensions were similar proportions to the previous gargantuan. Again, she was no equal rival to this big boy either. The hostile hello quivered through her, and she dipped her head down, teeth bared and Eris readjusted her stance, — defensively. His emanating odor was as appealing as his predecessor. But before the deranged hound thought about pacing backward and getting back to the task at hand, he spoke to her, his voice as intimidating as his size. A brow twitched quizzically at his interest.
What the fuck is a Nightwalker? She didn’t have time for this.
‘What’s it to you?’

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[sfont=Benne]“I simply want to know.” He tossed casually. Frankly it didn't truly matter why, or who. He was pretty certain he knew who from the scent that stained her coat - but it was a type of... what do they call it? Icebreaker? Some form of normalcy he supposed, what others tend to do when faced with a new face and they wanted to get them talking.
 
“You are here in my hunting grounds after all... We can chat or I can make a meal out of you instead.” He ran that sickly tongue across his mug, licking away any of the hungry saliva that pooled at the corners of his lips and threatening to drip down from his chin. She was a pretty little thing after all and they were always the most delicious of the bunch. 

The decision was hers.
 
“Do you seek revenge?”[/sfont]

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Those wintry, cool eyes of hers ever so slowly traced the lines that sculpted the Goliath before her. Unearthing the untidiness and matted fur that clung to him, it was no wonder his cologne matched his appearance so flawlessly, but one thing she wasn’t absolute was, if the shaggy rug that draped the big boy covered pure fat or pure muscle. And with that, a twinge pulled at the corner of her onyx lips with kittenish wonder, a concealed smile at the quirky thought of undressing him at that moment would be the only way to find out.
 
The tones in which he lectured weren’t as dismissive as the first male she came across in this dreary land. The way this one spoke, intrigued her, and there was an air to him that she wanted to investigate, — maybe she could entertain this… or him for now.
The coils of her muscles wouldn’t quite release the tautness of its elasticity, but she opted to sit nevertheless in answer to his ultimatum. Her head now raised in curiosity, rather than the obscene energy she posed just moments prior, as his final question came to her.
 
‘Is that a question or a proposition?’, she wore no emotion in her own query. Allowing him to make what he will of it. Her mind couldn’t still wrap around the fact he sported the same scent as the other male, so was she walking into a trap?
 
‘The fucker didn’t say what his name was’, bitterness resonated in the way she emphasized her fond pet name for him. He hadn’t introduced himself, and therefore she had no name to give. All he gave was the mild puncture wounds still fresh and oozing between her shoulder blades.

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[sfont=Benne]“I have not decided yet.” Casual - cloaked in a thinly veiled threat that hinted it all mattered on the outcome of their little meeting here. After all, why would he devour those who would prove more useful alive than dead? A meal was a meal but the feeling was fleeting. The useless were better off as a pile of shit in the next few days. Thus was his logic and way of life.

As she sat he continued to walk. A few paces out to her left, like a slithering snake through the grass watching its target. Not yet coiled and ready to strike, but deciding on their fate and the outcome of today. “Then I ask again — are you here for revenge?”

The smell of her blood intoxicated him, oh how he wanted a taste for himself. The thought nearly made his mouth salivate as he swiftly changed course, pacing back around to her front to catch the icy blues with his fiery reds. Tail flicking to one side in anticipation as he had grown excited with his own thoughts. 

“I lead the pack this individual hails from, I am deciding whether what kind of use to have to me.” He admitted, certain that the reality of it might be more frightening than the guessing game she might be having with herself. Was her fury something he could sharpen and use? Or was it a dull blade to be tossed away?[/sfont]

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The glare in her rain-kissed eyes wouldn’t go unnoticed, watching him with cerulean-blues that lit up the dull, drab environment surrounding them. Whilst he began to move, so cocksure of himself in his claimed territory, her hackles began to rise as his unspoken threat seeped through, even if it wasn’t direct.
She concluded he was just as bad as his predecessor then, but this one decided he wanted to toy and taunt before making a meal out of her or seeing her off, it seemed.

With that verdict, a silent snarl would tremor and twitch along her lips as he moved once again, a vision of danger to the pacing predator, — if only he would tread oh too close to her.
Ink tongue raced over the cage of her exposed ivories, contemplating him and the meaning behind his lustreless bluff.
 
‘You’re the leader, then that makes the other guy your parasite. A pathetic vermin leaching off of you’, off of his land, off of his food and resources, off of his women. A huff of annoyance, and an internal rolling of her eyes. That made more sense why he was shooing her away, so pretty boy had fewer to worry about competitively, only himself.

‘If I was to yes, am I to go through you first, seeing as you are his watchdog?’, she knew how fucked up of an answer that was, she would be dead before she knew it, but defiance and bravado were all she could throw at him. She was far from being a blunt blade, her irises glimmered with the sharpness of her dagger.

And the tip of it was aimed right at the tyrant.

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[sfont=Benne]Her threat was not ignored - but it did not deter him either. The man was one one so easily turned away after all, not when his mood was this good as of late. Not when things were as smooth as they were. The Nightwalkers were growing stronger by the day, and soon they would be impossible to ignore or overlook. 

She grinned and so did he. 

She spoke of Almight as some vermin, a parasite leeching off of his hardwork and that of their pack mates. “My members would probably think the opposite.” He nearly laughed at the thought. “We leech off of one another, that is how packs function.” Every member had their place, their job, their talents that others would benefit from all the while the next had what the other lacked.

It didn’t make things easy all the time, but in the name of survival - it was a necessary evil.

“Do you really think you could get passed me?” He approached, this time encroaching on her personal space. Challenging the woman’s position, to see if she had some bite behind that bark of hers.[/sfont]

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She still would not rest, her tension rising evermore, it was akin to a volcano constantly spewing and ejecting the lava that would incinerate and obliterate all in its path.
His objections to her own, let’s say, opinion, would sink and burn beneath the metaphorical lava. Only because she knew exactly what being part of a pack entailed; but while she was on this tunnel vision warpath, her judgment on the other male was purely based on her distaste for him.
‘Well I pity you if the rest of them are anything like him’, yeah she fucking hated him right now.
 
An eyebrow arched as his message came across alluringly; temptingly. But as he moved forth, that was her opportunity to show him she wasn’t going to tolerate him overstepping her personal boundaries.
Her jaws clicked and snapped shut at him, biting the tight air between them, ‘Back up, big boy’.
 
She threw the warning like a giant red beacon flashing in his face, but as she did, the most insane idea was vocalized before even processing it, a beautiful laugh rolled out along her ink tongue, ‘If it means one step closer to my target, your leech, then yes’.

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[sfont=Benne]Would she really pity him if she knew? The growing numbers behind the mist, the hungry, snapping jaws that would love to dig into her tender flesh should she try to approach unwelcome? His children growing in wombs just waiting to chew their way out and welcome the hell that he had brought them to?

It made him grin to think of. Just how much 'pity' would she really have for him if she wandered in looking for just one young man? One young man who self-proclaimed to have the Warlord's blood coursing through his veins? Would her little mission end in success, or would it fail with her head laying on the ground for someone else to come across as a warning for their tresspassing? 

She snapped her teeth at him so did he. “Show me what you are capable of and perhaps I will let you pass.” He would will her on to fight him here and now. Stepping forward with snapping teeth of his own as her threats would not deter him away. If she wished to find Almight, then there were others she would have to pass. He would be the first to test her in that mission of hers.[/sfont]

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The nightcap of liquid poison that’d lull her into a false sleep from a life before, would be the very same trigger as the lullaby the tyrant sung her way. His threat was ultimately that bullet that sent her over the cliff she barely was keeping balanced atop. It powered her blackened rage, where no mind-over-matter took place here, instead, that would take the back seat of this cursed, insanity-plagued ride.
 
As dark as her soul, her eyes pushed all baby blues from sight, and all that was left were black, round saucers staring right at him.
Her body and soul were given no option but to give in to the dreadful fiend that rose above that other side of a sweet, neutral Eris.
 
And then came her swift move, with the giant looming over her, his bottom jaw was within the same line as her eyes. This was her initial instinct, twisting her head quickly and launching forward, to lock onto his lower jaw on either side, essentially cupping it from below. Making his bottom jaw the filling of her sandwiched mouth.
 
Her frustration and anger heard through an open mouth, with throaty snarls vibrating through the duo. Clenching down, unforgivably, while her hind legs tried to centralise and balance herself.

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To her credit, the woman was not just all talk. That alone had given her enough merit in his eyes. That did not mean that he would stop this battle as it commenced. The brute was a battle-born terror, and if she wished to waltz into his domain, she would have to fight him for that right. This was no battle for his so-to-be son's life or honour. That bastard could protect his own throat as far as Vengeance cared.

Her move was a strange one... he liked strange. It was a turn from the usual throat grabs he was most accustomed to guarding against, and so when his mandible was taken into her grip he had a moment of surprise in those rubies of his. Soon enough it was replaced with devious delight, his lips stretched under the pressure of her teeth still curled before he clamped down on her jaw from above.

Steadying his mandible against her own maw and as she steadied herself - he on the other hand moved his head up and down in one swift motion (kinda like this but to her neck and spine instead of a rope). Whatever damage would come to his gums, togue and whatever else on his mandible would be dealt with later...

His own growls grew excited, wondering just what next she would do.

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HP: 18/20
Damage dealt: 9

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Just as she had wasted no time to engage with the tyrant herself, he too took his opportunity to whip her lightweight form about, the motion causing her to whine, but she tightened her grip deeper into the soft tissues of his mouth as he did so. All that poured over her taste buds was the distinct metallic taste of the wolves blood combined. Her feet weren't stable enough whilst he nodded his head to shock her neck and spine, and she felt several nerves pinching, her whine still echoing until she let go of his jaw. 

Her feet weren't found in time, and she quickly lunged at a front leg when she'd crumbled beneath him, crunching down as hard as she could to get through to the tender ligaments and muscles, wanting to inflict some kind of serious injury to prevent him from chasing her down, if she was to fail in this battle.
Her head wrenched from side to side before he was to decorate herself with his own gory touch.  

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hp: 11/20     damage dealt: 8

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With a flick of his head she flew. The whines that emitted from her maw were music to his ears which fed into his thrill. The pleasure he took from battle and how simple it was in its beauty. He was like a dog with a squeaky chew toy, only wanting to play around with it roughly to continue to hear it squeak in agony. So long as he held onto his prize, the brute would continue to swing around until finally she slipped his grip - or well, so did her grip on his jaw.

Blood pooled from his mandible, spilling out from his lips as it mixed with saliva creating a devilish reddish ooze. The battle only paused for a moment as the woman aimed a new attack on his limbs, a clever move for someone smaller than their opponent. Still, she was within his reach. And with a hunger for more of her in his mouth, the brute reached down with a vicious snap of his own, aiming for that space behind her ears where cranium met spine. Even he knew just how useless it would be to grab her stretchy scruff.

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HP: 10/20
Damage Dealt: 8

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A snarl, mixed with a high-pitched whine screeched from her, once the warlords' teeth sunk into her very vulnerable nape. She tensed automatically, bringing her shoulders upwards against his sunken canines, not that this would aid her in any shape or form. Her mouth closed tighter, if she could move slightly further forward, then she would clench her hind molars onto his forearm, to deepen her wound and hope to tear more at the tendons that wrapped intricately around the bone she was working her way toward. Nevertheless, her head continued to rock back and forth a couple more times, before realising she needed to get out of the position she was in and needed to think fast. 

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hp: 3/20    damage dealt: 3

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His arm would be a pain in the ass for a while, that he had already accepted. Maybe @Err could do something to make it so it wouldn't slow him down for the next few days. These injuries always seemed worth the temporary victory in the end as far as the Warlord felt... Losing any battle felt damaging to his reputation and his title as Warlord and Boss of the Nightwalkers.

Already Caligula was on his high horse for winning that one spar, and it irked him still to this day despite not wanting to draw any attention to it.

Moving his leg just enough to try and wiggle his way out of her grasp, all the while pulling and shaking his grip on the back of her head to see if he could get her to loosen her grip. To catch her while repositioning to let her teeth just slip enough to save his leg from any permanent damage. He'd buck and thrust and pull his leg almost as if frantically if it wasn't meant for once purpose; to get himself free and finally end this skirmish between himself and the spunky woman.

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HP: 7/20 | Damage Dealt: 3

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The brutality and sheer force of the behemoth above her, pinning her and intensifying his grip on her nape was excruciating. But whilst she was not blind to the pain, she kept her focus on still harming him.

Once she let her grip go for just a millisecond, the monster was able to shift his leg out of her reach. With his weight now pulling at her, she could feel her paws slip under the wet mud, managing to slide a paw or two beneath herself to try and push with all her might up into his jaws, to shove his head out of the way so she could attempt in some miraculous form to get out of this situation. 

The exhaustion from her battle only moments earlier to this one was overruling her war decisions right now. Her muscles began to tremble. All she could manage was a spluttering snarl, the blood from his flesh and veins poured out of her mouth as she made herself heard to him.

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And heard her he did. Her vocals sang the beautiful melody of defeat, even though her spirit was not quite gone just yet. Though victory was his, he could tell that didn't matter much to the woman who now fought against his grip as she slipped in the mud. With his victory solidified his tail lifted high above his hips, fur bristling with excitement as he placed a heavy paw on her head to keep her in place so he may release his grip on her nape so speak.

With a single breath, he let himself catch some oxygen first. Huffing a single, loud snort and gasp of air before speaking just above her ear. “Honestly — I do not give a damn about Almight.” He let the name slip without care. “I seek for those like you,  a fiery spirit for my ranks. If you wish to pass this is your invitation.”

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Memories of once being restricted like the deranged creature she was, all surged into one fluid crashing moment, but her exhaustion was getting to her. That black fiend that had risen, was desperate to rip and tear chaotically at the tyrant above her from the moment his paw heavily weighted her down.

Her mind was still a void; a dark, blind, disturbed abyss she was still sucked into. She wasn't thinking straight, about her actions nor her words, as he spoke. He gave her mark a name, one that now was guarded in her mind for when she'd inevitably meet him once again -- a reunion she would so look forward to.

Do I have much of a choice?, was her first thought, a foolish one given she was in a vulnerable position, the bridge of her nape exposed and naked for the taking. She grunted, letting her silence be known she was thinking, allowing her breath to catch up to her before she muttered into the mud, her head still firmly squashed into the murky earth. 'Fine', for now, she thought. 

And just like that, she felt the freedom of her wings barbarically clipped once again.

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