And we fight.

I am leaving the actual conflict pretty vague - TLDR; She is attacking boar butts where she can, and has joined the fight against King Gro'Mash to try to keep wolves from being thrown off the cliff

---

 Valmúa was neither close enough nor would she had cared enough to listen to Vendrussel's strategy. It was enough that she was answering the call of another, and it had not been an accident that her own howl had rang out almost directly afterward.
 When she did find the scene before her, all was chaos. She was too far and there was too much noise and smell for her to hear or see what happened to most of Serenity's brood. She knew only the very pungent scent of birth and oncoming afterbirth. That spelled something very bad — the warrior was fast to accept that Serenity's children would not have survived. The number of hogs was too great, and their devilry too much.
 Those of Elysium had come, along with, strangely, what appears to be a deer. Valmúa could see Kuhn's orange body flash before her, but there was no time for greetings or strategizing. She came at an angle opposite of Vendrussel and her crew, closing the distance hard and fast the moment that she saw the others moving forward.
 Then, she lost track of what happened. Her goal the entire time was to do what she always did, to distract by putting at hind legs and hooves and backends whenever she could see them. She would flit away whenever she felt an oncoming attack, but she grew grazed and steadily battered.
 She could hear Vendrussel howl in the madness from the prison that had kept Serenity. Time had run out and words and howling meant nothing. She spotted Ragnar in the insanity and targeted the same boar that he did, but as the largest of them ran through the entrance of the cavern, he pushed her aside and broke two of her ribs with the force. She was lucky not to be gored, but it knocked the wind from her.
 Seeing the smallest of the pigs when she rose, she decided instead that she was needed elsewhere. She moved to do no more than block the escape of the one who had broken her rib and, she assumed, the one who had started this mess. He was cornered at the edge of a drop but had two wolves he could kick off. Valmúa shouted at him, “PATHETIC SWINE!” She charged, able to ignore the terrible pain in her chest as she went for his hind foot to pull him back and create an escape hatch for those trapped by his massive bulk. She spoke only to distract, desperate to mitigate the already horrific damage.

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The female boar had fallen, all pink, black and red now. After she had been ripped apart by wolves, tiger and....deer, Kuhn had been quick to make after his next target. Valmua follows suit, Leviathan was already with them and Ragnar was certain Harper and those next to her would be able to handle the piglet their own.

Now, Ragnar attention turned towards the rest of the scene. That deer. A dead Dragonford wolf (one less in his way to Vendrussel) and one of Duskguard. With plenty of bodies enough to take down the boar king, Ragnar placed his attention upon his own- @Serenity.

She laid in the far corners of the cavern, a single child at her side. And, an Isle wolf near her too. Serenity and @Jun had spared moments together in this time to talk while the others fought. Ragnar would see an end to it.

He approves in a few long strides, a hardened gaze settled upon Jun in wordless warning before passing down to the new mother. “Serenity, we really need to get out of here.” More specifically, she and her child needed to.
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Finish him : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aHecLIik...el=Yvetzal

---

Gro'Mash was thrilled.  Many sharpfang come for slaughter.  Squealing with glee, he kicked and bucked sending hooves and tusks every which way.   The stench of gored wolf lit the great swine ablaze as more wolves joined the frey at the cliffside.  "HA HA HA! YOU THINK YOU EAT GRO'MASH!", boomed the great swine.   "GRO'MASH WILL ROOT IN YOUR GUTS!"  

"GRO'MASH WILL SLURP UP YOUR GORE!" 

One who was observant, or someone who had bit into the great swine would notice by now that most area's of the swine had hide that was relatively unaffected by the relatively small wolf fangs.  A few wounds on the pig's body oozed yellow lipids, which was protecting him from any serious damage in most cases.

The wolf of darks and lights (@Vendrussel) evaded a swipe lunging back in for the great swine's throat.  Gro'Mash lifted his massive skull backwards letting the woman have as much as she wanted.  The pain of fangs entering his thick hide was worth it, as the fangs never had a chance of penetrating completely through that thick hide.   His beady eye met the woman's, with look that told her it was no use.   "HOPELESS SHARFANG!", taunted the swine flinging the woman back off, only suffering a minor wound to the neck.  

Behind him, a red wolf had joined the battle (@Valmúa ) trying like all the rest to attack his rear, so that her comrades did not plummet from the cliff.  Obviously this was what wolves called a skilled warrior, leaving deep lipid filled bloody gashes in his hide.  Gro'mash laughed and smiled, squealing maniacally.  A rotten grin cracked over his shoulder as he bucked up.  Kicking out with his hind legs, his rear hooves aimed to split the woman's skull or send her from the cliffs edge.  

Distracted by his intent to punt Valmua from the cliff and Vendrussl's push, a pearly white flash of saliva covered fangs was the last thing he saw from this opposite side.  Turning to use his other eye, Gro'Mash for the first time growled in pain.  Standing there was @Valeska holding a bloody heap of the swine's eye.  "YOU DARE! FILTHY DOG!", he bellowed with a shaken voice.  

Looking down at his attackers with a bloody dripping hole that was once an eye, his chest rose and fell.    Obviously that had shaken him. Furthermore, he was now completely bind one one side.
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It was like watching droplets of water trying to carve into stone.

The great shadow that was Grimwald stirred at last from his viewpoint, rolling his shoulders to loosen the muscles that rippled beneath his short coat. It was cruel to watch. He would not stand by and witness his former king suffer needlessly, bleeding, roaring, now sporting a gored-out empty socket where a glittering eye once belonged.

It was, even to his standards, inhumane.

He made no noise. No war-cry announced his attack; instead, like the inevitable, relentless tide, he swept forward in an unstoppable charge, carving a path through the frenzied bodies of the wolves that stood in his way. Effortlessly, he brushed them aside, shouldering them with his enormous bulk like a cluster of rodents as they scattered in his wake. Taking a stand by Gro'Mash and planting his feet with the stolid determination of a true General in devotion to his liege, he rose up on his hind limbs, muscles tensing, flexing, hardening as he did.

He threw back his colossal head, aiming straight for Vendrussel.

He swung, bearing down upon his victim with the force of a thousand bull elk -

At the last minute, his course shifted, and he brought down his enormous weight upon his own King, burying his tusks deep within his neck as Gro'Mash was at last knocked from his feet and lay sprawled upon his side.

Grimwald held him there, one hoof planted on his former King's shoulder, sharpened ivories still lodged within the arteries that still weakly flowed with life.

“Thou fool,” he hissed into his ear, so quietly that only the dying boar would hear him. Venom dripped with every word, disgust evident from his tone. “Thou hast ruined it all. Years it took to build us up to our glory, so many of their kind exterminated; methodical, calculated, precise - and thou hast thrown it away in a day.”

His lip curled, exposing yellowed teeth.

“Thou art not fit to be King.”

With a mighty heave, Grimwald used all of his strength to throw him from the side of the cliff, his forelimbs crashing back down upon the earth with a heavy thud. He shook himself, sending droplets of blood through the air, though his tusks remained stained with his betrayal.

“Enjoy your feast, dogs.”

He would not spare another glance at Gro'Mash's broken body upon the rocks.

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Left to the swine of others, no pity that the Piglet attempted to gain was all but in vain ; her temptations of luring those of both mother and soon-to-be mothers were a crime that all saw was too evil. Especially as she had stomped one of the young, it's blood still sprayed upon her hooves as the Peaches shook and cradled to the side of the cave, oinking and pleading as she went.

But maybe at least, true to her name — she'd taste like Peaches.

Torn by wolves and flesh by flesh, so the Princess fell, lastly calling to her papa and her knight, but neither would come. One would watch in a newfound joy as she looked in horror, and her papa being brought down by the menaces of wolves. She wouldn't be alive to see it.

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Gro'mash can still win, he told himself. Standing on the cliffs edge. Never had he experienced such cunning tactics from wolves like this before, and as a result lost an eye. Gro'mash still smiled however. Overjoyed more than ever he could send these warriors screaming to the afterlife.

With a dripping hole for an eye, he could hear the clomp of pig's hooves join him on that side. The great swine postured up now with an invincible confidence. Though he believed he could do it himself, the wolves would never be able to take them both.

Lashing out for the wolf who took his eye he reared back to stomp the woman into the floor. Grimwald fight on one side Gro'mash fight on other, he figured, watching the ivory tusks of Grimwald seek their lupine target.

Then: mid stomp he was stoped, a stabbing deep pain. It took the great swine a moment to register. "Grim-WALD!", Gro'mash gurgled attempting to yell, blood trickling from his putrid mouth. Staring at the knight with his missing eye, in that darkness there was nothing but hate and anger. But he could do nothing. He could only hang on the tusks of his betrayer.

Flung from the cliff's edge. The swine was still in disbelief, falling. When the ground came, there was an audible snap and a crunch for all to hear.

"Grim... wald", he continued, gurgling. Now at the cliffs base attempting to stand, he raised up ever so slowly. When the swine put his massive weight on his front leg, the limb gave way instantly, as the bone severed upward through his hide.

"GRIMWALD!", He yelled weakly through the blood, the sheer force ejecting blood from his throat and his mouth. Tremoring, the swine slowly rose again to three legs, revealing his collection of injuries.

Once nearly impenetrable hide had been opened, his throat was exposed, his leg was broken, ribs crushed.

Blind in one eye, pure hate drove him to stand once more.

There was still work to be done.
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Unbelieving, she stared.

She knew nothing of Grimwald and his underhanded trickery at play, nor his role in gathering together this gnashing army of wolves to his own doorstep - with little context, Valeska paused in her bloodlust long enough to witness him hurl the larger boar from the side of the cliff, the gruesome, hard, wet sound of flesh striking rock tingling her ears.

The General then simply turned away, and made a path for the horde to attack.

Her first thought was that it was clearly a trap, but then reason argued he should not have to slay his own King to gain the upper hand. No - Gro'Mash had truly been disposed of; she had seen the other boar's tusks lodged deep within his arteries.

Valeska licked her lips.

She wanted more than an eye.

Snarling with renewed vigor, she bristled, the fur around her nape standing at full attention as she dove down after him, utilizing the strength and hardiness she had developed as a child of the mountains to pick her way down the craggy slope. Claws scrabbled against stone, but she did not falter in her path. Her vision blurred, seeing once again the mangled, lifeless bodies of Serenity's pups who had only barely entered the world mere moments before. She had never known Serenity - never met her, never once laid eyes on her before - but a mother's rage was infallible, unstoppable.

Reaching the bottom, staring the Boar King in his remaining eye, she snapped her jaws once -

Then shot forward, aiming to tear out his stomach.

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A fire lunged forward, a roar of a dragon even if part of the enemy ; fury crossing as the words of the boar betrayed were heard and raged to the king who fell, and fell. Yet injured, limb and eye loss, he never gave in. Standing proudly, angry at the world itself and what had transpired — like a curse, neverending to bring but a futile fight between all the wolves here, and him.

Vendrussel was not unfamiliar with cliffs, she was born by the stoney ways and soon dived with Valeska, down and down they would go. They wanted vengeance, for the fallen who were brought down upon this day, a mixture of all that came together despite a blood-fued. At least, at the moment she thought as the smells twined together with the blood highly stung in the air. Rage and sadness, smelled and event felt miles and miles. Before she even descended, Vendrussel leapt from the side of the cliff, and threw herself at the King in a fury of rage.

They would not rest until his breath ceased.

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 The great boar was bleeding and hideous, but Valmúa kept on fighting, hoping desperately that her comrades would survive if she could distract the beast enough to make him forget.
 He launched a great back foot to her, and though she saw it coming and leapt backward, it was what happened next that she was not prepared for. Another boar threw itself toward the great king of boars, and in their ruddied battle, Valmúa was pushed, then kicked at her side. One moment she was fighting, but the next, she was fighting for her life and clinging to the edge of the cliffside.
 She had to slam her leg over the edge to find her footing again, and it was a good moment before she knew she was not dead. By then, wolves had jumped down to slay the worst of the pigs, but Valmúa was coughing and spitting, rising only just as the squeals from within the cave signalled the death of the smallest.
 Valmúa breathed heavily, gritting her teeth. She looked behind her, but found the descent too much for her mind. She hunted for Kuhn, but could not see him. Then, she looked to @Grimwald, who had thrown the other to the earth and to his assured doom. Her elbows wobbled, but she stood firm in her resolve. “You loathesome fool,” she hissed in a low voice. It was unlikely he could even hear her in her poor state. She stumbled forward like she was drunk, each step laborious and heavy. Her body was splattered with blood that was not her own. Her muscles were done. She wobbled.

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After taking part in the slaying of the large female swine,  the big cat quickly attempted to join the lines against the largest of the swine, who was up against the cliff.  Though, he couldn't do much good with the boar surrounded, he failed to find a spot shoulder to shoulder with the wolves.   

Only taking up the rear guard for a moment, he waited for the pig to over reach. Watching his comrades rip and tear from the beast.  His princessa who had found active spot in the combat was without much warning punted from the cliff.  

Immediately the cats ears hung slack and his stomach dropped, and his world had ended. In the next moment that he saw her triumphant paws hoist herself back to the ledge, something happened that he would never expect.  

Another massive boar who plowed through the flank quickly turned on his comrade one swine sending the other from the cliffs edge.  Rallying his mind, with a few large bounds he skidded to a stop at the side of @Valmúa landing in a defensive posture, spine coiled and ready.  Looking like she was about to face off with the last swine, he stood at her side baring his gore coated fangs.
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It was a pity.

He sighed lightly, rolling his shoulders and glancing back toward the edge of the cliff from which Gro'Mash had fallen, still unwilling to see what broken mass lay at the bottom. No - he preferred to remember his King in a different light, radiant and full of fire, passionate and wholly devoted to their cause; not whatever weak, bloodied husk he had turned into.

A red wolf suddenly lined herself up in his sights, standing before him with a murderous glint in her eye. She hissed something - he caught only the tail end of her words, spoken with true disdain - and she lurched forward with feral intent, but her legs buckled and she swayed momentarily. Grimwald knew if he returned her wish for a fight then it would likely only rally the other wolves against him - and not just that, but also the great tiger who stood most curiously at her side.

What an odd pair.

Disgusting.

“Save thy strength,” he rumbled disinterestedly, turning to leave. “There has been enough violence today, and I am tired now, and wish to rest. There will be another time for thy so-called vengeance.”

Casting a final look back toward where his comrades had fallen, he grunted softly, then - Kuhn and Valmúa willing - departed into the trees, the sound of gnashing teeth and gore echoing up from the base of the cliff.

 

{Exit Grimwald}

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 As the warrior's vision hazed, she saw the scarlet warmth of @Kuhn close to her. He stood in defence, threatening with huge, bloodied teeth beside her as the pig who had felled the other addressed them directly. Her elbows shook as she prepared to die, heart plunging and rising like the tide while her comrades battled the last of the king of hogs himself. She did not know the motivations of this betrayer, but she knew the beast had not done so for the dead and dying.
 The boar moved toward the trees, and Valmúa defiantly took several intense steps after him. She had intended to defeat him whether or not she could. Yet, the red woman ultimately collapsed against the tiger. It was resolve alone that kept her from passing out completely, righting herself before she finally gave up the chase.
 On the return home she would develop a limp. It would worsen until she was rendered out of commission for what felt like pitiful attempts at battle.

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final round of wrapping up! Generally leaving post within the air.

---

The beat was slain, as was many of the other boars. Successfully did the members take down the King, but there was not without a loss. More then a few had loss their lives, though in truth it was only one adult and a few newborns in that causality. Vendrussel was remorseful, for not finding them sooner — but if it were not for the boar betrayers, most likely there would be more that would be within the grave. Although they wanted to do something against those who were not completely innocent, they had long been gone as soon as he fallen under the fangs of them all. Many after their fight bolted down the cliffs to attack the beast, and only then, did his last breath get called.

She was not without her own bruises and batterings, but knew it could be much worse. For Belial had been the one to save her from any true wounds, not unlike the red-woman that was familiar, and even more. It was not a battle to rejoice, at the moment, for the wounds of others needed to be tended to, and the sadness that brought of deaths to them.

Vendrussel offered the isle to any who needed recovery, even to the Northfall wolves — all except, for Ragnar, of course, someone she'd never let step on the isle. At the very least, Harper was there for the help of the pregnant Valeska, and she would nod to them all in a exhaustion, pride and friendliness, to Valmua, to Kuhn, to even the child, Leviathian, who all helped slain such a beast. Though her expression would change to a sadness. The dragon then strode toward the fallen Belial as she climbed back up the cliff, and uttered a few proper prayers. Silently, under her breathe, a wishing he would.. Reincarnate, and return to them. An eye looked at Ragnar, but she had no energy to face scum and continue the endless blood fued between them, and only turned toward @Jun who protected the renegade Serenity.

There was a moment she paused and looked at her ; pity, and remorse, caring not for any instance of aggression that conspired from any Northfall wolf that was near, or even her, and she offered short words of condolences, and prayers from the ancients. Though her words may not be appreciated, and she knew well ; for the woman thought of her as an enemy, and a stealer of men. Yet, even then, Vendrussel gave words of condolences before nudging Jun, and a paw to the fallen packmate. She would soon approach @Vedette as well and nodded, leading the trio back to the fallen dragon.

They would take him home — but some thoughts came to be, how long would it be home, before bathed in blood just like today?

She wished the best among them all, and offering of moments of safety of the isle that the boars would not venture to, and if wanted to a joining of a funeral. But besides that, those of the Dragonford would return home — the body to be left to whoever wanted. There was no energy to even think of it, for the focus of herself remained on her allies.

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Scents of blood, fear and rage cascaded through the air like waves, all testing different senses of the tiger.  His princessa, was intent to keep up the battle moving instantly from her last target to her next.  Watching the woman from behind,  in the midst of a mind hazed by the scent of blood, and the desire to fight and kill, his admiration of her bravery was still on his mind; igniting wash of emotions: the desire to kill, invincibility, attraction.   

Matching her intensity, he would fight with her: they would feast together.  Though when he saw the red wolf stumble from the corner of a fiery red gaze, his mind and body where fast to adjust, coming to her side, he pressed a large striped shoulder into her, bolstering the wolf that was so important to him.  

Typically, the cat would usually want to feed, though the sobbing and the smells and sights here made him sick, stripping the big cat of his voracious apatite.  With his red wolf more injured than himself, he would see to it that she made it home.  There was always time to eat later.
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Watching his trusted general leave his field of view and disappear over the crest of the cliffside, he knew it was useless to continue his yelling.  A leg buckled beneath him almost falling to the ground.   Two wolves had come to join him at the bottom.  Continuing to fight, another bone cracked and with a large crash the ground shook as the massive swine fell to the floor.  From the side of the missing eye, a ripping pain sent a shock to his whole system.   

The white wolf(@Valeska ) had gotten ahold of what was exposed under his stomach, cascading his innards across the stone floor.  The great boar would continue to fight and thrash even if it was only from the floor.  Until every last breath and shred of hatred left the swine he would not die.  Defiance. 

It was not clear when he passed into the hellish afterlife.  There was no moment where one could say he died, it was slow and unceremonious.  The ripping and tearing of the great swine's flesh echoed off the stone walls at the base of the cliff.  

A body that was once a source of fear, was now a shredded corpse. Perhaps the only good thing about the swine was that he would feed many for weeks to come.
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In an unsettling display of feral brutality, Valeska continued maiming his corpse long after Gro'Mash was dead.

Intestines and various organs lay strewn about his still-warm body like a colorful display on parade, his thick blood soaking the stone around them to a deep crimson. The snapping of her jaws was interspersed with the occasional snarl bubbling up from her throat, fur still bristled as though she were in the heat of battle, shredding him to bits of flayed meat as she tore through what remained of the great Boar King.

"Больные, мерзкие, бессодержательные свиньи," — Sick, loathsome, vacuous swine the silver wolf hissed as she tore out his remaining eye, dim and unseeing, breaking it between her jaws with a sickening 'pop', "Я бы вернул тебя и убил бы снова, если бы боги пожелали мне ублажить меня, отвратительное гребаное чудовище." — I would bring you back and kill you again if the gods would humor me - repulsive fucking monster -

This went on for a little while longer, even as the tired warriors who had fought so valiantly began to gradually pick up the pieces and group back up, nursing their wounds. Valeska alone stayed with what was left of Gro'Mash, and when at last she had exhausted herself, she sagged, resting on her hip. Her snow-white maw was soaked through with his blood, to speak nothing of the rest of her, which was almost wholly coated in a wet crimson sheen. Frankly, she looked like something out of a nightmare.

The rage fell away like soft petals in spring, and with wide, stunned eyes, stared at the gory display that lay scattered before her.

This was sin.

This was not like hunting prey. No, to revel in death - to take joy in another's pain and suffering, to relish the squelch of their still-living organs between your bloodied teeth, to have one's heart fill with song and delight as they screamed and screamed and screamed, to make it slow so they lived just a little longer through the overwhelming agony -

Valeska, suddenly feeling sick, threw up. The taste of Gro'Mash hung bitterly in her mouth, and she gagged again, but could not force anything more out from her stomach.

Seeing Harper at last - oh, gods, how long had she been there? Had she come to save her? Had she fought with the others? How much had fury blinded her? - the little wolf felt shame, and, head hung low, rose on shaky paws to meet her sister.

 

{Exit Valeska}

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“Gonna wrap this up on my end.”

Ragnar waits with little patience for the new mother to gather herself. He is most understanding of how much of a mess she would be and Ragnar holds back his own quiver as his pale eyes glance over the blood soaked cavern floor. He would wait at her side, protective of the new mother and her remaining child. But they needed to leave and quickly so, should there be more boar, should other predators come lurking about for a taste.

If Serenity needs it, Ragnar would pluck up the child to bring it safely into Northfall's borders but he would be in wait for Valmua, Kuhn and Leviathan to join him. He'd not leave any behind.

To Valeska and Harper, he would dip his muzzle silently, his features grim as ever before. To Vendrussel- nothing, for she meant nothing to him.

Another battle had been won, but war had yet to come.
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