You Gotta Start to Run Before you Learn to Crawl

It was… Different, The Falcon wandering aimlessly without an immediate place to be. A high ranking warrior such as herself always had something to do, be it overseeing young birds in training, being held in audience with her superiors, or being tasked with orders of bringing justice on behalf of her pack. The things she could remember, though vague, stuck out like a rose in winter. She remembered her role as a Bird of Prey, one of an elite group of wolves within the Cloudspire. Her main focus was upon that of strength and speed, which she poured her entire being into keeping that way. She found herself bursting forward with a speed strong enough to rustle the leaves of nearby bushes as she charged forward. She kept her head low, ears tucked tight as she sprinted along, working out the powerful muscles sat just beneath her fur.

She leapt over a fallen log with ease, following the fluid motion with graceful landing. She gradually slowed her evening sprint down to a light jog, her paws keeping light with each bounding trot. The red sun washed over her sleek pelt of warm brown, warming her even as the chill of the land had begun to creep in. Her breaths came in warm puffs, she panted as she came down for her exercise. It was only the start for her though, as she needed to keep herself to her rigorous training. She came to a more open plain, a place akin to the area she first awakened in, though trees still fell in line just a sprint away. It was open, less suffocating than that of the woods she had kept herself to for a majority of the time. Funny, how her perspective had begun to slowly change within the short time she had existed here. Though it felt fleeting as she made her way through the large gap in the trees, she knew she needed to find something to practice on, and the open air wasn’t quite efficient enough.
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"You're either on a mission-" his baritones shattered whatever silence had surrounded her athletic world with a timbre that was honey and cyanide with a tie loose around it's neck. "Or you're bored." He finished, volcanic stare glimmering a warm greeting down to the soul who had decided turning his chosen napping place, his personal domain into a fucking agility course was a wonderful way to sweep away his afternoon. However his handsome voice rose from his handsome and nigh etherally large body of living abyss. He wasn't in the slightest upset, no no, not even a pinch. He loved visitors. 

And he most especially loved picking their flesh out of his teeth, and adding their skulls to his collection, should they have given him a memorable dining experience. 

His stretch was a cuffed front of forelimbs braced against that log she had just flown over, so quick and just out of his maw's range, not too long ago. What a missed opportunity. Pulling back, he arched himself, shook, and dusted the grit off with a couple of determined swoops. 

Then without hesitation, he went to gauge her eyes from their sockets without a single greeting, otherwise. Jaws slotted open wide, ready to welcome her home.
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Rolled a 4!
Falcon Health: 15/15

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The voice called out from behind. The Falcon's notched ear swiveled in its direct first, followed by her tall and lithe form to meet the man behind it with a signature unflinching stare of chartreuse from down her poised snout. So she'd drawn someone's attention then, had she? Oddly the wolf of endless night spoke to her truths within both of his questions, though simultaneously incorrect in both regards. She simply… Was. Existing in a world that she didn't belong to any more than that of a fellow packless wolf, given the lack of scents other than his own that swept her way.

She could see it in his eyes, in his posture, the imminent danger he exuded forcefully her way. A danger that would have turned others away in an instance.

But not she.

No, she watched as the other shook his fur out briskly, already her ears pinned back and kinked tail held at an even mid point behind her, but nothing more. It appeared her partner this day would not be that of a tree or rock, but that of a spawn of darkness personified. Her expression remained steadfast, unmoving in the face of this threat from her typical straight lip and knitted brow.

The stranger was quick to begin, surging forth towards her with fangs bared and yellow eyes wild. The Falcon parried the charge swfitly with a jump backwards, her large paws swiping the air to make a hair of distance between the now clashing forces before landing and allowing herself to dip low to the grassy floor. Her lip drew back like a spring before she pushed herself up from the earth with a powerful push upwards, her own canines seeking out the throat of her opponent and sinking in deep.
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Rolled a 3! HP 11/15

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She had dipped low, utilizing his height in a remarkably fluid descent under his most valued asset - his life. As soon as she had snagged a purchase, his realization hit hard that this could be over much faster than what he had planned for it to be. Deciding to put his full 170+ pounds to work, he cupped her head there since she wanted to be there so badly, with the crook underside of his healed jawline, held her there, and barreled forth. He was intent on running her over, much like the steamtrain bull he had fought earlier had done to him. It had worked well from what he remembered, and if he could use such a motion and be free of this wormy bitch, he would.  Perhaps in such a heft movement, he 'accidently' snap her neck, then 'accidently' proceed to make a meal of her. What a shame. 

He threw thick trunk-like legs forward as he upped that chest, seizing all the grip and distance he could, his desire to flatten her as mean as the power he invested into it.
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Rolled a 1 whomp whomp
Falcon Health: 12/15

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She latched herself upon the throat of the shadow, but she hadn't had a proper guage of his apparent size from the distance he was at only moments prior. Seeing him now for the beast that he was, she knew she'd have to approach him differently here on out, a lesson she'd learn the bruising way. He grabbed her in turn and dragged her beneath him with force as he continued his stampede. Heavy paws dug into her body hard, though she wouldn't let her blossoming soreness be known. She let herself be pulled under, her thinner frame sliding beneath him as he moved.

He had weight to throw, he'd give him that. As she slipped under, she began to roll and push to break free of his grip while also kicking upwards against his stomach to throw the man in black off balance from below. She was in a tight spot, surely but she'd still keep her pride about her.
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Rolled a 5 x_x hp: 10/15

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Her mistakes and lack of experience became apparent now to the King of Nightmares. He felt her release her grip, her desires to be free of him even more powerful than that of ridding him of this plane to save her own hide. Her skill was her swift speed, not her power. Her aim, not an unrelent behind it. She had much to learn, and ever the teacher on murder, the well practiced killer wanted to encourage her to be better. 

As she had slipped free, his defense had immediately shed for the moment, replaced by a brutal offense. With her beneath him, he poled all four mammoth legs about her squirming body, caging her in his range. It was then he reared his crown, then brought it down in a savage mauling of whatever he could, ripping, tearing, shredding, and teaching. It was an aggressive lesson that sometimes fire could only be met with fire, and some fires you could simply not put out with sly little tricky water. Some attacks could not be evaded. Some had to be met - 

Face to face.
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Rolled a 1
Falcon Health: 7/15

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She succeeded in kicking him, but that did nothing to make the other shy away from his vicious greeting. He caged her in, his massive head looming over her before diving in for a retaliating bite of his own. Fair, she must admit, she watched as fangs of ivory shot towards her face with intent. She felt them connect as subtle warmth quickly pooled after from the fresh slices they drew from her jaw.

Still she did not bow, rather followed suit and slid a fang past the dark furred man's lip and bit down hard. She didn't like the way her memories failed her now, she was a militant warrior, but if anything, this display only proved she would have to work that much harder to regain herself. She once again kicked out with a powerful hind leg, only this time she aimed her foot towards the weak ankle of the beast. For how formidable legs could be, ankles were always a sore spot that could make or break a stance.
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rolled a 5 . Hp: 9/15

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She was no match for his vehemence, his hatred, his scorn. His weight, his prowess, his determination and grit. It came crashing to a fierce halt as his maws carved a beartrap across her gullet, wet tongue feeling her pulse so vivacious beneath the saliva that pooled over it's drowning drum beat. He smiled only briefly with his pant, before he felt her sweep one of his four limbs from under him. It was to her detriment however, as his cage he had formed around her was also protective of her organs, skeleton, existence. He came crashing down atop her, possibly smushing her in the process. Extra heavy on someone who was not built to withstand such, maybe broke something in her. In her squirm, he couldn't tell. But now- 

As he lay comfortable on her pancaked body, he could see there was no way she could free herself, now. Even as she had latched onto his lip, he merely sharply pulled away, tearing free from her chompy face piece. Baritones softly rolled over her collapsed form, a single word bled from his red stained jowls. 

"Yield." His eyes had closed, knowing full well he needed a bout of rest after this. Head was upturned towards the sky as he drew in his heavy breaths, trying to get as much oxygen back into him as possible, in case she begged for a round 2.
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Slade Wins!
Falcon Health: 2/15

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He forced his weight upon her with his fall, a move expected and properly braced for. To say it didn't hurt would be a lie, but the way she tensed her muscles for the incoming weight served her well to slow the crushing force down to a dead weight. She felt sore in her shoulders and chest, but continued her hold strong. She was losing, yes, but to not fight until a battle was deemed over was to be reckless. So when her opponent suddenly began to lift his head, commanding a yield from her end, so the battle would be called. A clear victor eclipsed the sun of her golden pelt with his shaded pelt.

The Falcon took the opportunity to roll onto her side and sit up if only a fraction. She held her elegant form steady, not giving to him any indication of the pain he had inflicted otherwise. She did, however, pant as her lungs begged for unhindered air.

"Intriguing play for someone in the winning position," She regarded, "Well met, stranger." The masked woman watched the loner with wary eyes. She knew when she was beat, but still she kept her head as to not be caught of guard by any stray fangs. She would stand, but the man still found himself mostly on top of her. While she made no immediate move otherwise, her posture should very well be understandable enough for the man to move, though she held doubt that he would given his way of saying hello.
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She called it intriguing - 
He called it - 

"You're most welcome."  - as though she had curled about his knees and thanked him feverously for sparing her life, for giving her the opportunity to continue to see more days, and keep them going until he commanded otherwise through teeth and disastrous carnal desires. As though he were her saint, patron, and light that kept her going. He kept these images in his head, replaying her begging, pleading, thanking, simpering, whining, praising - 
Because otherwise, he would have finished her off. 

Slade Xandir did not let lone wenches live. What had made her different?
Orlaith. He was preparing himself for their second date, another passionate rendezvous with the woman who could cull his distaste for the kind souls which roamed this wasteland. Slade was trying to work up the discipline to keep them alive this time, merely because he didn't want to accidentally kill the bitch who gave him a hard-on through actions, and not looks. She was a gem, and Slade wanted her to be preserved, alive, ready to take him on whenever he was waiting on her borders, again. Fuck, she just-

"I'd advise you stay far from this place, until you decide to either marry into it, or be murdered within it." With that, he rose, giving her freedom, her leash now laying in his words alone. Should she choose to put the collar back on, to follow his lead, and learn from his guidance on warfare, becoming a better killer, and being a goddess of such craft, then he would effortlessly show her the way as he had done for the many before her, and certainly for the many after her, should they earn their place. However, should she leave it behind, he would keep it, and leave it for her to place back upon her neck at her own behest. 
As for her retreat, - 

"You have three seconds remaining until I decide for you." 

Because 'Well met' his ass.
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How pompous, the man saw himself as something more than an heedlessly aggressive wolf with no real stakes to call his own and yet tried to command it of her. Win or loss, he held nothing over her head. This interaction meant nothing. Would she really find herself meeting this loner again? Likely not, but it seemed his desire to be something more pushed itself forth like a calf still uncertain of its legs. How tiresome, and not in the physical sort of way. All men thought they had their rights to the world. She didn't comment on his 'welcome', the shadow of a man slapping away the hand meant to shake in good sportsmanship. Boring, typical.

She rose to her full hieght, meeting his burning eyes with her own cooler gaze, her large brows sitting heavy upon her face with quiet disdain, not of the fight, bit of the wolf himself. Something deep within her heart shivered at his worlds of a sick 'marriage', one pushed in her direction no less. It bothered her deeply, enough to cause her lip to twitch towards anger even. She didn't know why, her mind trying and failing to disclose why it made her feel as sick as it did to hear such words come from such a man. It wasn't even the murder half that distressed her so, no, she knew in the past she'd gotten many a threat as it came with the job. But this... The memory was locked behind yet another faceless wolf, the vague form of a woman in the back of her mind smiling at her, so warm and sweet, then bristling with fear before fading away without any further context. The woman was beautiful, though looked nothing of her. It wasn't her immediate past she hazily recalled, but that of someone she knew. This dark implication of 'romance' scared this woman, and thus...

Scared her.

She pushed it down before it ever made its way to the surface though, her long legs already moving to step past the wolf, her hooded eyes staring as she went. "Seeing as marriage isn't my list, I will have to decline your offer," She wanted to bite him again for the suggestion alone, an urge unnatural to the graceful woman, but she relented as she walked, her tone remaining just as outwardly unbothered as ever, masking, "I'll be on my way. If my work calls for it, I'll be seeing you. Otherwise I won't." She held her head high as she began her return to the forest she'd previously been training within, her ears still held back and listening.

It was when her back was turned that she allowed the silent snarl to form on her lip. She couldn't place what had brought forth such ugly emotions within her. She knew that her loss, while trivial, showed that something was amiss within her. She was— is a warrior, through and through. Yet it seemed her body disagreed with her soul, resulting in a dissonance between the two. How long had she been asleep? She had to work harder, return to herself. Was he the stranger, or was she the stranger to herself? She couldn't even remember why his words irked her as violently as they had. He didn't know it, there was no way he could. She didn't know it, how could she not? The memory held something deeper, something far more painful than any bruise or scrape upon her cheek that she now carried for the time being.

Her expression return to neutrality as she came closer to the treeline, she needed to focus herself. Even if her title meant little now, she would bring its meaning back. She is a warrior, a commanding officer no less! She is...

The Falcon.
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