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I can tell I have not been heard as I descend upon the clashing wolves in the bottom of the gully. The two seem to be so wrapped up in each other that they hear or see nothing else, at least the wolf with the white face anyway. The rage in his eyes is so all consuming that if I were weak enough, I would be drawn in myself, eager to help him wreak havoc on this innocent instead of helping to tear them apart. Something tells me this isn't right, that this wolf doesn't deserve this fate. Now I could be dead wrong. What if this wolf is a killer or something worse and the white faced one is only trying to exact justice? But nothing in his two toned eyes speaks of such, only a deep rooted need for blood. I've seen that look before and it never leads to good things. I am by all rights in my own mind a demon and I will go to my grave believing I am just as good as them even without the blood in my veins to tell the tale. Ishtar was a mentor to me and a friend, more than any other in that pack before she left. I never knew the Demon King but he was my unsung hero. Now I live in their shadows and I'll be damned if I don't earn that right to a badge some day. I hear the male's whispered words and I know what's about to happen. If I don't act now, someone will die today. Some day, I may be the killer but not today. Today, I will save a life because I don't think he deserves that fate and I don't think this wolf has the right to take it from him. Not today. As he lunges for the male's throat, I lunge at him, feeling my shoulder collide with his ribs as I push him over to the side. He rolls and quickly gets to his feet, giving the male enough time to get up himself and brush off the shock long enough for lunge for escape. I listen to the sound of his retreating paws as I turn myself on the white faced male, knowing he won't be happy to have had his prize taken from him. I know that I am damning myself to a battle but today of all days, I'm eager for it. I'm longing to taste the blood on my tongue and feel the muscle tearing beneath my teeth. I lick my lips at the mere thought. He starts to say something as he turns to face me but the word dies on his lips as he sees me. His eyes narrow and I know that he is turning his rage on me now. My body trembles, not with fear but with exhileration. Fenris, I needed this. I can see his eyes seeing past me now, watching the other wolf take his leave and something clicks behind those eyes at the same time that he lunges at me and I know I'm about to get my dues. I decide right then and there that I will give damage where damage is due and take the blows for experience and training. Let Andras and the other demons look down on me when my coat is scarred to hell and back. I will wear them proudly. One word escapes his lips as he rushes at me head on. I brace myself, ready for whatever comes next. As he snaps toward my head, I duck my head down and to the side. His teeth clamp down where my neck meets my shoulder and I cry out in pain and anger as I twist my own head around, turning it sideways so I can clamp down with all my force on his lower front leg. I snap down, aiming to break or injure the bone before I shake my head and jerk back, trying to pull and tear muscle and tendons. He's trying to wrestle me down to the ground but I remain strong and fighting, pushing my shoulder into him even as I feel his teeth tearing into my own muscle. I grit my teeth and bear it, snarling deep in my throat as as I feel his leg go over my back. His teeth clamp down on the scruff of my neck next and I buck upwards before throwing myself sideways, aiming to toss him right over the side so I can throw myself down onto him even if he keeps holding onto my scruff. I know I'll earn some bruises but at least he'll learn that I'm not so easy to take down. The moment I strike the ground or him, I get right back up, even if it's slow cause I might have to drag his weight back up with me. I keep pushing into him, turning my head around to snap at his legs or whatever else I can reach. If he remains hanging on, I rear up on my back legs and push myself over, knowing I can either crush him beneath my back or hurt my back trying. Either way, I'm not letting him stay latched to me like a tick. I can't stand it. Once again, once I go down, I struggle back to my feet, not wanting to stay down long to give him that advantage. I refuse to be defeated, not by anyone and certainly not by this white faced punk. I am out of breath already but nowhere near ready to give up as I snarl through clenched jaws. "I'm sure you speak from experience. Show me your worst and I'll show you better." Avery female.four years old.35', 150lbs.born to ChernobylxBeowulf.sibling to Adalmund&Aelfgar.bound to none.mated to none.betrothed to Leonidas.mother to none.tied to nowhere |