Why the fucking fuck was he always out in the foulest winter weather? The normally suave male was about ready to screech in frustration at this point, the screaming wind driving snow into his orifices (the front ones only, luckily) as he struggled through it. Fuck precipitation and all its fucking forms. He just wanted one fucking sunny day, ok? Just fucking one!

He stopped dead, eying a rock a rock suspiciously. Hadn't he seen that rock before? It had a very peculiar twist to it and some shiny sparkles under the snow. He was sure he'd seen that before. Was he going in circles? FUCK.

He struck out in another direction entirely, pushing against the wind, squinting against the icy wind. And then stopped, incredulous.

THAT. FUCKING. ROCK.

"Fuuuuuuuuck I fucking hate snow," he shouted to the unseen, uncaring sky, head tipped back as he planted his legs wide and glared up into the whiteness.

Aurielle Adravendi

She’d made her way to the Field, Paladin at her side, intending to spar and seek out new members for the pack. Further back, shrouded like a black wraith in the blizzard, Aelloshir grumbled along after them, though silently. Aurielle paused, about to comment to Paladin about the weather, when an altogether frustrated bellow from ahead perked her ears, and a soft chirp of laughter escaped, quickly stolen away to oblivion by the howling gale. A glance was cast to Paladin, who had his black brow points raised. He nodded to his young cousin, flashing a brief grin. She nodded and padded forward. With the influx of snow and heavy blizzards that winter had so abruptly brought with it, she had been taking full advantage of the natural camouflage her coat provided in the weather. It was even better than the heavy fog of the Moor. So, when she stepped from the thick, roiling curtains and veils of snow, her appearance was an impressive statement of elegance and grace. She blended so naturally with the surroundings, it was likely she could have been taken for a trick of the eye. A ghost or spirit shimmering between waves of wind-driven snow, only her brilliant eyes and black nose being the distinguish-ably real points on her form that confirmed she actually was there, approximately six feet away from him, facing him. Those eyes regarded the larger, darker wolf keenly, with a hint of mischief glinting beneath the surface, before she asked lightly, “Are you here to spar?” The lilting nature of her accent was subtly enhanced by her canines, forming a naturally lyrical speech, and she’d long grown into her adult voice. Paladin made his way to a place within sight, but clearly not part of the possible spar. Like Aurielle, his eyes and black markings were the only thing that made him stand out from the stormy winter conditions. In point of fact, the thick coat he'd inherited from his father made him perfectly at home in the snow. -:: Aurielle Adravendi vs Demyan for Spar ::- Round 0/3 Height: 30" Build: Medium Extra Notes: Eeeeek! Snow Ghost! Distance agreed upon by Tea ^^ Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Paladin 'Knight' Ancora

Paladin wasn’t certain whether he commended his young cousin’s dedication to learning to honing her skills, or be rather miffed that they weren’t at home sorting herbs and staying near the warmth of the fire in the caves. IN the end, he was content to follow her to stand as a witness. It was a decent distraction from the fretting he’d been privately going through. Both that all but one sibling now remained in the pack, and that despite Talis being scattered by the Abraxas challenge in Auster, he hadn’t seen Valor since before the raid. That was only the tip of the iceberg, but his thoughts were interrupted by a bellow ahead. He stopped with Aurielle, and when she glanced at him, he smiled, nodding and following as she took the lead once more. As she greeted the large male, Paladin studied him as he moved off to the side, taking notes. The male was large, muscular, and looked capable, as well as thoroughly peeved by the poor weather. He also looked familiar. That mask looked a lot like what Domari bore on his face, though differently colored.

Focused as he was on the fucking rock, and on very carefully NOT admitting to himself that he had managed to get lost in the snowstorm, he didn't notice the strange shimmer in the snow, even after it coalesced into a wolf. It was her voice that made his gaze flick up from the rock to the wolf a few feet beyond it, then to the other male off to the side. He straightened from his disgruntled slouch into that cocky, head-high stance that best showed off all his rippling musculature. "Fucking right I'm here to spar," he said, of course lying through his teeth. Then his senses caught up to him and he squinted doubtfully at the female who'd asked the question. She had fangs the length of his paw and hair sprouting from her head and tail as long as his tail, weird colors that flickered in and out of existence on what he'd thought was a white coat, and, disappointingly, she was only a yearling. A smirk grew on his muzzle the longer he looked. "Awww, little baby girl wants a spar does she? How fucking adoooorable," he crooned in high pitched baby-talk, like he was talking to a newborn pup. "Shouldn't you be back home in your den sucking on your mom's titties? What about you, buddy?" he directed at the older, larger of the two strangers. "Sick of babysitting pups? Why don't you come at me instead at make it a fair fight? Although..." he pretended to think a moment. "That wouldn't be much of a fight either. Why don't you AND Pretty Pretty Princess have a try, huh?" He gave a wicked, long-toothed grin at the man who was hanging back before shaking out his coat and dropping into a fighting stance, beckoning at the pair. "Well come the fuck on, pansies. Let's see what you got."

Demyan vs Aurielle (and Paladin???) for SPAR
Round 0/?
Build Medium
Height 39"

OOC: TEALAH does not want a melee, Demyan is just being a dick, so if there is a way to avoid that it would be preferable but I also understand if his bullshit is too much for even Paladin lol, just let me know either way.

Aurielle Adravendi

Well, this one was certainly a piece of work. She watched him through the swirl of snowflakes that blew between them even at a closer range, head cocked as the male threw insults and pup-talk her way. A snort of laughter escaped her on a cloud of breath—swiftly whisked away on the driving wind. “Funny. The way you were staring at that rock—and bellowing… one might have thought you’d seen it before. Several times. Old acquaintance?” His cocky, overcompensating attitude she ignored, instead studying him as she would any opponent. He was larger, but she was already used to a larger opponent. And for all that he threw insults like a fool, she didn’t discount the possibility that he’d be just as innovative with his fighting as he was with his tongue. Or rather… more than he was with his tongue. She finished her swift study of him as he began to give his ‘come at me bro’ spiel, and commented, throwing her guess out there, moving before she was finished speaking, “I’ve met better Xanilovs than you, I’m afraid…” That mask and the whiffs of scent she kept catching when the wind whipped her way had been niggling at her, and she’d made a cautious connection. Domari’s relative? Definitely wasn’t how her father had described his brother Alarik, who had joined, and then inexplicably vanished. That bot had been honorable and eager to please and do good. This one was the opposite. Demyan’d already begun to settle into a stance, but she did away with setting her defenses before she launched herself—her father had already hammered the merits of letting the defenses click into place as you went into the fight as the initiator, and even as the defender. She drove off from her haunches, hind paws pushing off from the ground and sending small clumps of snow flinging into the air and her tail behind her as she sought to close the six feet of distance between herself and Demyan – though she didn’t yet know his name, and likely wouldn’t learn it – before she'd let the words 'I'm afraid' leave her jaws, her ears flicking back to pin against her head as her expression shifted into a silent snarl—eyes narrowed to protected slits, jowls wrinkling to fully bare those long upper canines of hers and face following that wrinkled expression to give a little padding to her face as her jaws parted slightly, misted breath puffing loose in an easy breath. Her toes spread wide to better her balance and traction, and her claws dug into the frozen, hardened snow and earth beneath the layers of fresher powder that lay on the ground for added traction. Her tail flowed level with her spine as her shoulder-blades rolled forward to guard her lower neck, hackles rising along her spine from shoulders to tail-head for a bit of fluffy protection against his teeth and claws. She sought to come at the male head-on, face-to-face, though with an easy nine inches separating their heights, her head was much lower than his own. So, as she sought to draw near, she lowered herself further, aiming to gain momentum and to veer slightly to her right and barrel into his left foreleg, seeking to drive the sharp point of her left shoulder into the upper portion of his left front leg and knock it backward from beneath him in hopes of straining a muscle in Demyan’s left shoulder, as her weight shifted fluidly to her other three legs to compensate for the slight lifting of her left front paw as she sought to drive the hard edge of her left shoulder-blade upward into Demyan’s throat at the lower side of his neck, aiming to jar his windpipe with the movement and leave mild bruising – maybe even moderate, if her momentum had been enough... Her head tipped to her own right, her left eye rolling back to keep a peripheral watch on the larger male from between slitted lids as her jaws parted further and she sought to lunge her skull to her left, aiming to slash the sharp points of her canines into the soft point behind the elbow of Demyan’s left front leg, aiming to leave moderate wounds in her wake. Her intent was also to keep him from aiming for her own vulnerable topside, and to serve as a distraction from his surroundings. If he was intent on her, Aelloshir might have an opening for an attack at some point during the spar. As it was, she had no intention of staying in one spot too long for the larger wolf to use his size to his advantage, nor of letting any more than one paw leave the ground for any amount of time, and she kept her joints loose, hocks and right foreleg slightly bent to lower her center of balance. -:: Aurielle Adravendi vs Demyan for Spar ::- Round 1/3 Height: 30" Build: Medium Extra Notes: Sorry this took so horrifically long, Tealah. Thanks for not canning the spar in frustration xD Gods this internet issue is so frustrating >.< You know where to catch me if you need any clarifications <3 Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Whitey over there stayed silent, refusing to respond to his needling, so Demyan rolled his eyes back over to the pretty princess. He didn't know how she could possibly have known he was wandering in circles, since he hadn't - yet, though he probably would have if it had gone on long enough - addressed the rock directly, but he didn't miss a beat. "Oh yeah, princess, me and Rocky go way back. Besties since I was a wee puppy and he was just a liddle pebble. He says, oh listen to that." He tilted his head toward the rock as though listening. "Oh I don't know if I can say that, Rocky... oh who the fuck am I kidding of course I can. Rocky here says he fucked your mom when your daddy wasn't around and she LIKED it. You know, that's probably why you got all the ugly little sparkles, just like Daddy Rocky..." He swept his tail toward the sparkly granite rock. Her attempted barb at him about being a Xanilov just drove a harsh bark of laughter from him as she charged him. Six feet wasn't a far distance for a wolf to cover, but he wasn't going to wait around for her to hop it either. Even as she was charging he threw himself forward to halve the distance between him and her previous position in a single bound. He used the momentum of his leap in an attempt bring the front part of his left shoulder downward in a leftward diagonal in an attempt to bring it smashing down against the left side of her cheek and muzzle, trying both to keep those teeth from his own vulnerable flesh and to break the weird fang at the gumline. (COUNTER) He kept his weight centered as he leaped, balance shifting between hindquarters to fore and back as he leaped and regathered himself. He held his weight rather lightly for a big wolf as he moved, but upon landing he kept his limbs widely spread for balance and his joints bent slightly to lower his center of gravity, with his paws spread wide and his claws digging in deeply to root him to the earth. Demyan's left forepaw hadn't hit the ground when he'd leaped - instead he curved it to hook back towards him in an attempt to slide around behind her right upper foreleg and draw her close. Because of his change in position, her attempt to strike his upper left foreleg with her shoulder hit the front of his chest in the bottom left to leave very slight bruising, her right shoulder jabbing upward to moderately bruise the lower right side of his chest. Since he had already been in motion, though, he attempted to continue his forward motion, seeking to drive his own chest forward into hers in an attempt to drive her back on her haunches, to throw her off balance with his heavier body. "I'm sure you'd think so, Sugarbear," he sniped at her in late reply to her barb, as he attempted to drive her back. He wondered which of his sickeningly sweet, foolish brothers had been giving her ideas of what a 'better' Xanilov would be. Maybe he needed to find said brother and beat the shit out of them, just to make a point. He laughed in her face, adding in a deep murmur, "Come back in a year and you'll be begging to feel a real Xanilov over you. I might even oblige you if you ask real pretty." He was moving even as he spoke, his haunches drawing under him to center his balance, his right foreleg rising in an attempt to wrap around her neck just in front of her left shoulder with the intention of hooking around the right underside of her neck and pulling her close, essentially trying to bearhug her beneath his greater weight. Head tilting so his muzzle moved to his left, his jaws gaped wide on a laugh and he drove them down and to his left, attempting to close his jaws over her spine directly behind her ears, his lower jaw on the left side of her neck and his nose on her right, with the intention of squeezing until he cut off the flow of blood to her brain or cracked bone. His highly expressive eyes were narrowed to glacial slits, his pewter-trimmed ears flattened to his skull to keep their perfect shapes safe from the ravages of weird long fangs. His hackles were raised, adding more height to his already substantial build in that time-honored fashion to intimidate and fool the eye. He lived for a good fight, reveled in it. He just hoped the little girl didn't cry too much when he beat her - crying children were even worse than crying women. DEMYAN vs AURIELLE for SPAR Round 1/3 Build Medium Height 39" OOC: edited to put in forgotten table coding, witnessed by Lazuli