While the majority of Fireside's livestock was of the heavier, hoofed variety, Tyrian was aware that fowl could be kept too. He hadn't thought much of it, honestly. Birds were small and noisy and, ya know, winged. They could take to the sky and leave him and his herders behind with ease. Yes, he could build actual cages but that wasn't really what he had in mind for his critters. It sounded messy. But - and this was his motivator today - Tashi had been trying to convince him that 1) diversity was important and 2) keeping fowl wasn't as unpleasant as he imagined. For awhile now Tyrian had been somewhat agreeable to trying fowl raising out, but he'd made no effort to acquire any birds and any query on the matter he'd always answered with a noncommittal "soon." There was no getting out of it today, though. Tashi had been the one to spot the boy with the birds and he'd stood with his arms crossed and his foot tapping until Tyrian had agreed to give acquiring them a try.

With a relieved - an purposefully loud - noise Tyrian rushed towards Mortis with Tashi clinging to his nape. The young king was the picture of relief. "Oh my god I thought I'd never find them!" he called with a friendly smile before fixing the trio of chickens with a scolding look. "Sneaky bastards! Where did you find them? I thought they'd be halfway to Auster by now!" In truth Tyrian had never seen these chickens a day in his life. The only thing he knew about them - and Mortis - was that the boy hadn't been in possession of them long. He was banking on the younger boy being baffled by Tyrian's seeming familiarity and that he'd simply hand the birds over. No fuss, no muss.

It had taken Mortis a good long while to hunt around all the chickens. It doubled as a training exercise for his new companions. The Kea was clever, and showed the chickens the wicked side of her beak. The Snow Leopard was still young and silly, and liked to chase his tail as much as the fowl. All and all, it had trid Mortis to the very end of his patience to round them all up. They would be a gift for Odette, to add to her collection of fowl. Or maybe he would try to care for them himself, and build a little cage for them near their den… he hadn’t really decided yet, but the prospect entertained him. What he had not encountered for, was the similarly coloured, and similarly blessed wolf that would butt in and try to lay claim to them. The winged wolf wasn’t having any of it! He stomped down his paws and glared at the blue wolf as his squawking collection scattered at the boy's arrival and words. ”Look what you did!” he exclaimed, exasperated. It had taken up way too much of his time collecting them, and he was riddled with little beak marks all over his legs for his efforts. “These are mine go find your own” he didn’t care what Tyrian thought. There was no way these were his chickens. "Speech"

Tyrian watched with no small amount of irritation as the chickens fluttered away. Really. Really? He had the birds under control, his legs pecked to shit, and he wasn't smart enough to know causing a ruckus would scare the bastards off? The chickens weren't even Tyrian's yet and he was annoyed. "Yours?" His incredulous gaze slid over to Mortis. He was committed to the lie now. There was no giving it up. "You deaf, midget? Those were mine and it was your little bitch fit that scared them off." The kid was big - easily the size of the average adult - but lanky so Tyrian thought him to be roughly the same age. Too old, in Tyrian's opinion, for whining and foot stomping.

He turned to leave, to go after his chickens, but felt the need to throw out one last retort before going. "Now I'm going to go find my chickens - again. Maybe do us both a favor, take your titty baby act back home where it belongs and leave the bird wrangling to the professionals." That's right. Professionals. His menagerie was birdless as this particular moment but he'd herded and wrangled countless bigger animals. He thought of himself - and Tashi definitely - as an expert on the subject. Now that they knew where to look him and his crew would have the birds netted in no time.

He frowned at the blue wolf, who was acting like he thought he was so much older then mort, and well, maybe he was, but so what? He looked at the chickens that had scattered, and back to the stranger who was grumbling at him, and considered the implication. It seemed to Mort that the boy was going to take ownership of them, no matter what Mortis said. How would Sirius solve this?

Mort knew how, and he let out a soft breath, considering. “How about this. We fight, winner gets the the chickens, loser has to help wrangle them up again. But it's a serious fight, we fight to leave a mark.” there, that ought to have high enough stakes to interest the boy, and he had a feeling this bossy stranger would like the idea of forcing Mortis to help him wrangle the chickens that Mortis had collected in the first place. The Heir would just have to hope he won, and got Tyr helping him instead. If Tyr could be a man of his word.

Tyrian rocked back on his heels in exaggerated incredulity as the boy's attitude did a 180. What happened to the pouty, stompy brat? Well, wherever he went, Tyrian wasn't going to let him off the hook easy. He'd found what he considered to be a weakness and he was going to pick at it just to see what came of it. You could learn a lot about someone by frustrating them. Granted, you could lose out on some things. There was a trade off when it came to being an ass. Tyrian was willing to risk it.

He quirked a brow at the boy. "Awful big wager for such a little man." The young king made a show of considering the proposition and then rolled his eyes and puffed out his lips as though relenting against his better judgement. "Alright, you've got yourself a deal," he said with a cocky smile. What could it hurt? They were going for "marks" not eyeballs or noses. There wasn't much at stake here.

With practiced ease he fell into a defensive stance. His opponent had wings which was something Tyrian, a mutant himself, had never seen before. But just because he'd never seen it before in wolves didn't mean he had no fighting experience with winged creatures. He'd fought more than his fair share of geese at the Range. It was for that reason he knew better than to attack his opponent head on. No, that was just asking to be beat over the head by those wings. Instead he opted to try to circle the boy. Tyrian aimed to approach Mortis' left side. He sought to slam his chest into Mortis' left shoulder while simultaneously reaching out to grab the boy by the ear. His goal wasn't to take the whole thing off or anything like that; just give him a little nick to remember him by.

Tyrian versus Mortis for Minor Maim (notched left ear)
Round 1 of ???
Age: 1+
Size: Extra large
Build: Heavy
Offensive Battle Accessory: Bladed forearm bracers
Companion 1: Snow Leopard, Female - Battle
Companion 2: Black-footed Langur, Male - Battle
*Companion 3: Striped Skunk, Female - Battle
Mutation 1: Retractable Claws - Offensive
Mutation 2: Saber Teeth - Offensive
Skills: Master Intellectual & Expert Fighter
Specialty: Bard (not applicable in this fight)

Mortis could pout with the rest of them, but he didn’t have as much pride as his father and heir-rival. He could put it aside when it was the right thing to do. He could either scramble at the smooth wall of Tyrian’s stubborn nature, or he could turn it into something where the odds were almost even.

He smirked as Tyrian called him a little man. He might be young, but he could still kick ass. His father had stepped up his training since he and Azure had begun to compete for the position of Heir.

The older boy came at him, going in for a side hit, and Mortis pivated, compromising his balance for the quick movement. His wings flared out big as could be on both sides, both for balance and for intimidation. As Tyrian hit him, he would connect still with his shoulder, but a more frontal hit then the boy might have intended. Mortis would then try to hook his paw around the other side of Tyian’s leg. A move he had learned from his father, as he attempted to push out the hidden blade. He wanted to stab it into the back of Tyrian’s knee joint. Meanwhile, his elongated fangs went for Tyrians cheek.

Mortis Fatalis vs Tyrian for minor maim (minor cheek scar)
Round 1/2
Age: Under one year
Size: Dire wolf
Build: Medium
Offensive Battle Accessory: Front leg bracers with knife
Defensive Battle Accessory: Back leg bracers
Companion 1: Snow leopard, Male - Battle
Companion 2: Kea, Female - Battle
Mutation 1: Saber fangs - Offensive
Mutation 2: Feline claws - Offensive
Mutation 3: Wings - Offensive
Skills: Advanced Fighter & Intermediate Hunter
Specialty: N/A

The boy was fast. He was around in an instant and Tyrian was forced to retreat a step to try to avoid Mortis' reaching fangs. As he stepped back Tyrian felt something hard poke into the bracer on his left front leg, but the hardened leather and unyielding blade in his own armor saved him from taking any damage from the stab. The same could not be said for Tyrian's cheek. One of Mortis' canines skidded down the left side of Tyrian's face. It was too soon to say what kind of damage he took from the blow.

In retaliation Tyrian slammed forward suddenly while rising up on his hind legs. He was bigger and heavier than the other youth and fully intended to use his size to his advantage. Having risen up, he sought to slam the lower portion of his chest (roughly the vicinity of his forelegs) into the top of Mortis' left shoulder and lower neck. Simultaneously he sought to use his forelegs to push down on the long bones in Mortis' wings in the hopes of pinning them down. To aid in his efforts Tyrian extended his claws and angled his forelegs in a way so that the serrated teeth of his bracers were pointed downward. The claws and the teeth would hopefully encourage the boy to crumble beneath him.

Tyrian versus Mortis for Minor Maim (notched left ear)
Round 2 of 2
Age: 1+
Size: Extra large
Build: Heavy
Offensive Battle Accessory: Bladed forearm bracers
Companion 1: Snow Leopard, Female - Battle
Companion 2: Black-footed Langur, Male - Battle
*Companion 3: Striped Skunk, Female - Battle
Mutation 1: Retractable Claws - Offensive
Mutation 2: Saber Teeth - Offensive
Skills: Master Intellectual & Expert Fighter
Specialty: Bard (not applicable in this fight)

His knife scraped against leather, and his teeth hit skin. Before he could celebrate that small victory, Tyrian was pushing against him, hard, and Mort flared his wings again, seeking balance. Tyrian was trying to push his weight against the smaller boy, and his forelegs sought to push down Mort’s wings.

With all of Tyrian’s upper body resting against him, Mortis would snap his wings down suddenly, letting the boy push them close. At the same time, he took a step back, hoping to cause the boy to crash down to the ground. Bonus points if he landed on his face. Weather or not the maneuver worked, Mortis would jump forward, aiming to either crash his chest against the others again, or jump on him and pin him to the earth.


Mortis Fatalis vs Tyrian for minor maim (minor cheek scar)
Round 2/2
Age: Under one year
Size: Dire wolf
Build: Medium
Offensive Battle Accessory: Front leg bracers with knife
Defensive Battle Accessory: Back leg bracers
Companion 1: Snow leopard, Male - Battle
Companion 2: Kea, Female - Battle
Mutation 1: Saber fangs - Offensive
Mutation 2: Feline claws - Offensive
Mutation 3: Wings - Offensive
Skills: Advanced Fighter & Intermediate Hunter
Specialty: N/A

And the winner is...

MORTIS

TYRIAN must give up by submitting, fleeing or passing out. MORTIS'S maim (minor cheek scar) is successful! Totals: Tyrian: 299.70 (46, 97, 48, 19 - Adjusted to 71.3, 106.7, 48, 23.75) Mortis: 318.75 (49, 80, 75, 70 - Adjusted to 85.75, 88, 75, 70)

-nyx