Good F***king Music

@Banesteppe backdated to 12/25/22 if that's good? <333

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Nyra prowls again to the Plains, having meant to talk to Reign for a while now.
Never having taken the time to truly stop in on the Viscountess' territory, she may as well try again...
The Warqueen was several miles out still, having at least another hour or so to go before she would reach the Hiraeth.

The Queen paused briefly to inspect a dead duo of coyotes, splayed and ripped apart like something hungry had gotten them.
Gore was everywhere, as was the musty, borderline putrid stench that wafted around the scene, as if that predator was still close by.
Nyra snorted sharply and continued on her way, ears and eyes on alert for the potential presence of others.
Smoldering golden eyes looked sidelong back to the mangled coyotes...

Part of her wanted a taste.
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Bane is unaware of everything around him…yet somehow still aware. His ears twitch and shift atop a blood crested crown — hearing every little noise the land around him makes, but not completely registering it. He’s in his own fucked up little world and he couldn’t be bothered.

On that note, he’s unaware of the woman steadily trailing after him. She found the coyotes, but the beast doesn’t know that. Truly, he’s an easy one to find. His scent is very unusual— bad as most would say. He’s grimy and after a recent kill his fur shimmers with the moisture of blood. The thing is…he doesn’t care if he’s found or tracked. He’ll fight whatever wants to have a go at him be it a bear, wolf, tiger — he could care fucking less.

He wants to die, so what’s stopping him?

Nothing, hence when he takes a well times chance to halt his jerky movements, and turn his head stiffly behind him, he spots a white wolf. Tall, bitten ears shift back and bloodshot eyes, previously half-lidded, widen at the sight of the being before him. He’s not hungry…but he could be. This one looks big — strong — he wants a piece of them.

It’s that inevitable hunger growing inside of him. His teeth fucking itch.

Whiskered lips shift up as he chatters his teeth and clenches his jaw. A black, forked tongue rasps over them and drool strings from leathery lips.

With a head hung even with broad shoulders, he moves towards the pale wolf. He isn’t that far away so surely she’d see him, but to her, he probably looks more dead than alive. He might as well be. The only thing that shows in dim, bloody orbs is an animalistic intelligence. He’s hardly even aware — hell, he hardly even fucking thinks — the hellhound simply lets his instincts guide him.

So he moves closer and closer until he is only a fair fifteen feet away. Bloodshot eyes rake over the pristine whiteness of the strangers coat. It’s full and thick. He sniffs the air — he finds out that she’s a female then. It makes no difference. He’d kill before he decides to fuck. Those eyes of his look over her more — quietly curious — dangerously so. She’s healthy looking. She would give a good fight…

He wants one, but allows her to take him in as well. But it doesn’t mean his teeth don’t itch still — it doesn’t mean the bugs don’t fucking crawl. They always do and he feels them right now, hardly resists the urge to chew a fucking hole into his stomach and let his guts trail behind him. He doesn’t need ‘em anyway. His hunger shows in the way his tongue laps over his lips once more as he sizes her up. Saliva drips thickly from his maw.

He is the epiphany of a mindless animal…and that’s just the way he’ll stay. His mind is broken and unsalvageable and that’s how it’ll stay until he dies once more.
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She sees him in the distance.
She feels that he sees her too, especially as she watches the faint movement of a head turning.
Then, he's coming closer, moving like he might be a dead man walking, zombified perhaps.

Her hackles stand on end as he gets closer, closer, she feels his red orbs staring at her and sees them too, sizing her up with intrigue and some hunger that looked almost cannibalistic.
Her lip curls, tail flagged high already by now, glaring him down with fearless blazing hues of hellfire gold.
She growls loudly, a warning for him to fuck off, but somewhere in her gut, she almost knows the brute won't listen to the warning.
And as they stare each other down, she feels her own teeth itching to rip, rend, and tear.
For blood to spill, the thrill and electricity of battle to taint the air like poison.

Nyra prowls toward him a few paces, adrenaline igniting in her veins at the excitement, the inevitable clash-! 
She lunges for Banesteppe then with a savage, guttural roar, aiming to shred the flesh of his face, his cheek or his upper neck with her teeth. 

OOC note: Berserker specialty :D

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Rolled a 6!
B HP: 26
N HP: 24

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He wanted a fight and it looks like she’s going to give it to him. Her full tail is high — a tell tale display of dominance. The growl that rumbles from her throat is one that says everything: fuck off. He doesn’t though and soon he can tell she’s not fucking around either.

He sees the tensing of her body just before she thrusts herself towards him. Her paws thump loudly on the flat grasslands, but he isn’t afraid, actually, he hardly even braces for impact. He loves the pain he’s dealt on a borderline sexual level. It makes his body hot, adrenaline rushes blood through his veins like poison. The way her fangs tear into his face and neck cause his lips to tear up just like her own, showing vicious fangs and spitting a savage, guttural growl as well.

Only once the pain registers and ignites a fire in his dimly lit brain, does he finally fight back.

Oh, he fights alright. He fights with the vigor of a man that cares not if he dies. Perhaps he’ll even get to roll on her corpse too. For now though, he snaps his jaws at her own face, hopping to slice and dice her flesh in a perfect shape of his deathly fangs. Hoping to maybe poke out an eye or two too.
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Nyra HP: 24/30, rolled another 4 smfh, sooo Banesteppe 22/30 HP after this post i think???

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She slices his face, his neck, tastes the blood spilling across her tongue, flying into her fur.
But he fights back like she knew he would, his own fangs rending into her cheeks and neck as the brute too snarls as she did.
Nyra doesn't shy from the pain, instead fueled further by it, the Warqueen drives closer, attempting to gnash her fangs into his jugular and vital areas whilst they both brawl for the upper paw. 
Nyra is vicious and battle-hardened, though not nearly as mentally far gone as this bastard seems to be.
She surges onward like any shieldmaiden of the Gods would - unphased, unafraid, driven by the hellfire in her veins of the war-mongrels she descends from and the adrenaline that pulses with it.
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Rolled a 5!
B HP: 22
N HP: 18

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This woman fights like a bat out of hell, but it’s not good enough. For the hellhound is not dead yet and he suspects he won’t be dying anytime soon.

Though he doesn’t mind, he wants to be able to roll on her cooling corpse more so.

So when she aims dangerous jaws for the sensitive vein of his neck, he tucks his chin in a weak attempt at dodging it. All while he snaps back at her, spit flying everywhere and soaking their pelts where they’ve attempted to tear off their chunk of flesh.

He notes that she’s strong, but it won’t be enough to save her. Especially from the likes of the hellhound himself, for ye was sent back from the depths of Hades’ lair just to bestow the terror of death to those who have yet to experience it.

He plans to give her the full tour.

So he savagely thrusts his teeth back, not going for the face this time, but for her hind leg. It’ll slow her down hopefully— not that she’s the fastest. Either way, the Achilles tendon is looking mighty tasty from here and who knows, once she’s dead he might just get to gorge himself on her flesh too. Or that’s the plan at least. Yet, despite a moderately calculated attack, there’s not much going on in the mutt wolf’s head. Nothing but kill, maim, gut, eat — hungry, hungry, hungry. His eyes are thoughtless and bloodthirsty and it shows in the ferocity of his attacks.
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rolled an 8! Bane HP: 14 if my math is correct lol
Nyra HP: 18 still i think?

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Her attempt only lands her another score to maybe his cheek.
His attempt is weak and his gall maddens her further as he rushes for her hind leg.
Nyra whirls expertly in the nick of time, roaring loudly as she seeks for just behind his jaws with the full of her weight behind it, aiming to take him to the ground.
What the brazen brute has no idea on - is his attempts wouldn't be enough either.
Nyra would sink her teeth in deep wherever they landed on him, the fire and rage of every Viking ancestor she had behind each blow, and the blessing of her Nordic Gods in each movement she made.
The Warqueen kept her hind legs and hips well out of reach as she continued to descend upon Banesteppe, blood-red fury nearly tainting her vision as she sought to rip out whatever chunks of flesh she had gotten on him, to make this fucker bleed out on the grasses and give him a map of Helheim to boot.
Both their intentions here were death upon the other, but as the saying goes - hell hath no fury like a woman's scorn. 

And hers especially was scorn to fear.
Nyra raged on like a wild, blazing flame, seeking only to wreck havoc and destroy like the Berserker she was, down to the marrow and in her very soul.
 

 

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Rolled a 2! :’)
B HP: 14
N HP: 16

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She whips her ass just out of reach — he was too slow in his attack and only took a tuft of fur with him. Guess her Achilles will live another day. It bothers Banesteppe naught though, he has absolutely zero worry for losing or dying. All he does comprehend is the fact that he will attack once more.

Oh, but it’s her turn now isn’t it?

Her jaws find harsh purchase on the scruff of his neck. He feels her teeth puncture and tear. A harsh bout of pain blooms along with the hotness of blood. He feels the heat of it as it spreads the output his coat and the searing hotness of hell that betrays the weakness of mortal, living flesh. His own maw falls open wide, black-purple tongue lulling out long and wide — serpentine — as he pants and drips both drool and blood.

But even then, he registers the hungry need to bite, tear, kill.

He curls as tight as he’s able to, but only manages to snap and reach at her ear as he attempts to free himself. Blood would bloom, but it would not stop the Viking from taking her pound of flesh.
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Nyra HP: 14
Banesteppe HP: 10??

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He curled in and clipped her ear. 
She had already taken her pound of flesh, one of many to come surely; The pain was immediate and sharp, she felt the blood starting to flow from the deeper nick as she continued to go for his cheeks and face with the wrath of all hell, unminding of the pain just as he, unyielding and ferocious as they clashed. 

Short response I apologize ;A;

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Rolled an 8!
B HP: 10
N HP: 6

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Oh, Bane does love getting chewed on — the pain is breathtaking — fucking phenomenal. But he cannot let himself get chewed on forever, he still has innards he wants to roll in and blood he desires so bad to spill.

It seems she has the same idea for she’s going for his face once more. Where it’s already torn and bloodied, she adds even more scars to his already vicious image. The twin tear drops falling from his eyes will have their brethren as a symbol of survival and suffering. And he’d be damned if he didn’t leave his mark on her memory and body too.

But such trivial things don’t bother him — being remembered and what not. He doesn’t care, he’s mindless and broken, deranged and dead. He just wants to kill and bleed.

So he does.

With a panting roar and bloody spittle flying everywhere, he looks for her neck this time too. He doesn’t care where specifically, but when he takes that sweet, sweet flesh into his dangerous jaws he’d throw his body into a vicious shake. Planting his both his hind and four limbs, he grunts heavily as he’s pulls and tears flesh — not bothering to guard himself one bit. He’s going for maximum damage.
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Rolled a 4 ;w;
B HP: 6
N HP: 6

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She gets him good, tearing into his face, cheeks and neck more and more, but in the midst of their brawl the bastard is able to get a good grip on the side of her neck and he shakes.
Oh, she knows this tactic, and she knows it well from her life before this world.
But he is able to thrash her a good couple times before the Warqueen adjusts enough to plant her massive paws and thrust herself into him in an effort to break the brute's jaw by attempting to also shove her shoulder into his windpipe if she can manage. 

This was getting bad...she would need to end this, and soon.
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Rolled a 9! Feel free to have Nyra bail if you’d like! <3

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He shakes her good, ripping and tearing flesh and oohhh the way blood blooms on his tongue. It’s borderline euphoric. It has him humming and growling around a mouth full of skin and fur. Yet, despite the pleasure the bloodlust brings him, he understands the severity of the situation.

He wants to kill her. Consume her. Fucking eat her until he vomits.

And so he will, but not before she fights for her life and shoves her shoulder into his jaw hard. It cracks alright and he’s growls savagely, but it is not broken, as he tests the muscle and bone my opening and closing his mouth a few times.

But now he’s pissed.

And like a bat out of hell itself, his jaw opens up wide and clamps down onto the loose, slightly weaker skin of her side, just along the rib cage. This time he shakes too. Shakes like he’s trying his goddamn hardest to rip off a chunk of flesh…hopefully he does.
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B HP: 4????????
N HP: 0!

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She hears a crack, but as he tests the functionality of his mouth she aims her fangs for his nose, intent to at least clip the sensitive area.
But by then he's aiming for her ribs-!
Nyra leaps sideways just in time to avoid the brute taking a full chunk out of her, but she feels the moderately deep slicing of his teeth into her flesh as she jolts out of reach, rounding one last time to attempt to briefly fell him with a desperate and heavy shove before she bails.
Her pride was not worth falling to the teeth of a walking corpse, and she would keep going until he was well out of sight.

Only then would she slow down to regroup herself.
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She snaps at his nose as he tests his jaw and even barely avoids getting a chunk bitten out of her. He growls is subtle frustration, continuing his attempts to snap back just as much as she is. It seems like she’s desperate now and he would settle for that as fear, for the hell beast fears nothing and no one. Not even death.

Yet, when she shoulder checks him hard enough to send him skidding over the grass, she’s turning tail and running. A savage bark is pulled from the depths of his chest as he makes chase.

The chase doesn’t last long though, for he’s already been awake for days on end and this weak, dying body is rusted at best and broken at worst. He comes to a halt, mouth wide and panting, drool and blood cascading from crimson stained jaws, and a wild look in his eye.

He would not forget that face…
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