She would smile at her King as he went to battle, confident in him, but nonetheless less trusting of those who had gathered. Her crimson eyes were peeled, senses working and counting as she noted the Valhallans. As the fight went on, she was content, sitting down and listening to Vixe as he spoke. One of them was off in the distance, but accounted for nonetheless. A runner, perhaps? Argent was not annoyed by the distant figure, however, but rather by the last to arrive. The sixth. She had warned the russet-kissed woman, and now she would not sit by. ?I warned your alpha that if she tried to overwhelm us I would place another challenge,? she snapped, and at the same time the woman dared to go for Isardis?s balls. What a pathetic, cowardly move. Argent would do something similar in return.
She would growl and bark, placing a claim upon the Valhallan secondary alpha. An apologetic glance was momentarily sent to Vixe, for she would have challenged for his dear Azalea, but Argent had a point to prove. ?Come, defend your King, or he is my prisoner,? she snarled, immediately settling into her defenses. Her legs spread apart equally, weight evenly distributing, toes spread, limbs bending, center of gravity lowering, tail tucking, hackles raising, shoulders rolling, head aligning with her spine, neck scrunching, chin tucking, jaws parting, ears pinning back and eyes narrowing.

Argent knew not who would answer her challenge, but she cared not. She was a knight in service of her King, and she would not fail him. She would not soil the name of Glaicem by daring to lose this battle.

ARGENT vs. ??? for GIDEON
0/??
DEFENSES: Her legs spread apart equally, weight evenly distributing, toes spread, limbs bending, center of gravity lowering, tail tucking, hackles raising, shoulders rolling, head aligning with her spine, neck scrunching, chin tucking, jaws parting, ears pinning back and eyes narrowing.

INJURIES: n/a
ATTACKS: n/a

Her watch for experience seemed to take a turn, with the arrival of another Valhallen one of the wolves stepped forward to challenge for Gideon. Ears would fold back and the shewolf would push herself up. She had been behind and off to the side of the group of Valhallans, but it seemed like even though she was a bit smaller than them the Glaciem wolf didn't like it. Her mismatched gaze would flick over to Taurig briefly then to her pack mates, and with that she would turn and run off in the direction of Valhalla where she would await news of the challenge. -exit seraphine- "normal. talk. think. you." Awesome image by Trynx <3

Of course. Would come his aunt's confident answer, clearly no doubting the abilities of the pale ghost. This was the first time Taurig would ever see his father in battle and it was certainly an interesting thing to see the somewhat delicate looking pale King become fierce in battle. His attention would be riveted to the fight, large mass tense with unease as Isardis and the red-faced queen would dual, things heating up when the Valhallan queen would suddenly twist, aiming straight for his father's prized jewels. A snarl burst from his lips, ears flattening against his skull, inky lips pulling back against ivory weapons. The little whelp of a woman plays dirty. His aunt would comment in his ear, causing him to snarl again in agitation. Coward! He would hiss into Sendoa's ear, pressing his larger mass against hers in an attempt to calm himself. What a pathetic coward, taking a low blow. Blows like that were only permissible in a life or death situation and the woman was hardly close to being dead. Just when he thought that things couldn't get any worse, it did. In the form of Argent challenging for the Valhallan king. Taurig's icy gaze moved away from the fight to focus on Argent's figure, watching as she lowered herself into a defensive stance. Now there were two challenges going on at the same time. Taurig sincerely hoped that his father would win and Argent would too, because Glaciem wouldn't be able to stand loosing it's King and a major Overseer. Talk like this

Affection spread through the opposing crowd like syrup on pancakes. The pepper colored male "loving" on a darker female. It was her assumption that the female at least was related to Isardis, the facial features bore a most striking resemblance, at least in her eyes. Had they met in another place and under better circumstances, she might have asked the woman. All the Glaciem wolves held deep rooted hatred in their eyes and she wondered if it would remain like this for the rest of time, Glaciem versus Valhalla. She could feel the males in the crowd withdrawing, hear the Glaciem females' outrage, and her eyes quickly reverted back to the fight at hand. Chrysanthe was aiming another blow and this one was... interestingly placed. A wicked grin spread over her face, fire burning in her eyes. His balls. Of course, it was a brilliant attack but at the same time one to surely gather a backlash like no other. Isardis seemed overly fond of his manhood and his ability to reproduce prolifically. Cael arrived then, herbs on hand in case they were needed. He was late but he had arrived none-the-less. Her attention was ripped away as another outraged cry came from across the way, it was Argent. ?i warned your alpha that if she tried to overwhelm us i would place another challenge,? The crimson eyed woman stated. It took Azalea's mind a minute to catch up, the realization washing over her like cold water and her mouth dropped open. Her face became a picture of both horror and frustration. ?Come, defend your king, or he is my prisoner,? And just like that another fight was opened. Like a healing wound the scab was ripped off, once more exposing the delicate tissue below. Much more of this and there would be an all out war! Azalea didn't even stop to think, to be logical. Argent was much larger than her and had a good year on her as well but this didn't stop the white and red female from jumping to her feet. "You fucking bitch!" She screamed, stepping forward. Her mind was lost to the heat of the moment, who knew if someone would save her from this. Azalea moved forward: one, two... three more steps. Her senses were heightened now, very aware of the adrenaline rushing through her body. Azalea was not quite on the field but already she was sizing up Argent involuntarily. The female was setting her stance for the fight ahead, lowering and solidifying her center of gravity to make her better prepared for an attack and also to attack. Azalea was on her toes, fur on end and legs stiff. Her eyes flashed around the field. Chrysanthe, Cromalin, Cael, Gideon, and then across to the pair who hung on each other and to Vixe. Actions and reactions all around her but none she could see more clearly than her own now. Argent was on the defense and if no one stepped up to the plate soon, Azalea would be returning to Valhalla bloodied, with or without Gideon. Her paws tingled, her adrenaline filled limbs practically begging her to rush out onto the field and engage in a possibly life threatening fight.

Cormalin

Cormalin had been watching the fight intently, and hadn?t realized that Seraphine had snuck into the Field to observe the Challenge, until Cael arrived late, and the pregnant female, Argent? Abruptly challenged, for Gideon. Personally, Cormalin would have felt no loss if the male Chrysanthe had chosen to lead beside her had been won. However, this wolf was a part of the pack, and important to Chrysanthe. He looked around, and his eyes found Seraphine, who was running home. A growl rumbled in his chest. The yearling had snuck in, when Chrysanthe had expressly said at the meeting, where he had seen Seraphine present, that only the Council, Surreal, and Gideon?s adage of Cael, were to come to the Challenge. The yearling would have to be dealt with later. The consequences of what she had just caused would depend on how this newest bit of trouble ended. Chrysanthe?s attack to Isardis? scrotum hadn?t set well with the Glaciem wolves. Oh well. They?d be better off with the albino?s ego lowered. Turning away from watching the departing yearling, he stepped up, eyes falling on Argent. You are willing to risk your unborn litter? No female should be fighting when she?s so far into term.? His body fell into a relaxed stance, loose and balanced. Paws fell into a square stance. Head dropped level with his shoulders, throat protected, ears slightly pinned, tail falling to droop between his legs, out of reach. ?Are you sure you want to live with that heart pain?? It was her choice. For Valhalla, he would fight, but he wouldn?t harm her if he could talk her out of it. Or if someone else took up the challenge. ?This has not been an attempt to overwhelm your numbers. Seraphine was present when the pack was told only five were to come along. And she disobeyed those words.? Youngsters? And speaking of.. Azalea?s explosion made his head turn. Oh for Luna?s sake. ?Enough.? One quiet word. He doubted it would even work. This challenge was not going well. "Surreal, head home."

He was trying really hard to keep himself in check. As much as he didn't know his father, he had sworn his loyalty to him and he be damned if he was going to just stand around and watch him get castrated right in front of him. But as much as Taurig wanted to jump and save his father from the ultimate disgrace, he couldn't. This was his father's fight, he was only here to make sure that no one decided to attack him after everything was said and done. But it seemed that things weren't going to be done yet; not by a long shot. The Valhallan's had known that Argent would challenge for one of theirs if they decided to bring more than the allotted number of wolves and it appeared the latest addition was the one that did it for Argent. She was challenging the Valhallan's for their king and the Knight expected the big mouthed russet man to step up for himself, but it seemed that the younger russet faced girl would be the first one to talk, insulting Argent. Bad move. That was it. First they insult his father and now they insult Argent? Disrespectful bastards. He was glad that Seraphine had scurried home because he didn't want her to see anything that shouldn't. He moved away from his aunt, giving her ear a gentle tug before stepping in front of her a he took several steps forward until he was standing directly in front of Argent, shielding her from the Valhallan's with his massive size. He was a solid wall of steel-like muscle with eyes sharper than ice and fangs just as sharp. Audits would flatten against his skull, muscles tensing beneath his grey-blue coat, lips peeling against ivory fangs as he allowed his icy gaze to bypass the darker male whom he recognized to be Erani's brother, to settle on the russet faced youth, a snarl erupting from his jaws. Either you silence your insolent children, or I will do it myself. Each word as a fluctuating snarl, sharp and full of deadly intention. No one would disrespect his pack. Talk like this

this is why i love morphine sometimes -- she likes to watch as the world falls to chaos x3

holy tits on a stick, thank you muse ♥



Baritone and ominous, the beacon for blood and gore would resound easily through the foliage, sending intense waves of pleasure up her spinal column, forcing the fur adorning her skeletal figure to bristle as adrenaline wracked her system. The domineering summon was so foreign to her and yet the dainty phantom recognized the perpetrator being beckoned, a smirk warping her porcelain countenance from placid to sinister: Valhalla. Exhilaration and raw curiosity would fuel her serpentine limbs to propel her in the direction of the impending showdown, abandoning all sense of distress and sorrow that had recently plagued her as a result of her recent failure, far too consumed in her newfound delight with the current situation that the wraith wasn?t even involved in. The desire for knowledge of what drove the challenger to want to wreak havoc upon the damnable pack she held distaste for urged her to force her way into the fray, however, so her presence was crucial in her own eyes.


The devious expression only elongated across her visage as she approached the crowded amphitheater, the familiar aroma of rusty blood and decaying corpses writhing through her flared nostrils as her pupils swept over each individual present, mentally noting upon the unique statures of those she did not recognize, appeased with the fact that many living and enraged canines littered the arena. Attention wavered from the sideliners to the duo engaged in combat, a frown tugging at her pristine countenance as the familiarity of one russet-masked creature struck her: Miss Valhalla? A single brow quirked upon her forehead but she allowed her countenance to readjust into complete vagueness, triangular ears careening towards the ardent raccoon as she threw down a second gauntlet directed towards the massive pack of the island. Casually, the babe would stroll closer to the fray with evident swagger to her step, skull descending to fall in alignment with her spinal column as she secured minimal defenses in preparation should she be wrongly targeted. As she graced the outskirts of the circle, she?d halt, an arrogant smirk stretching vastly across her velveteen lips as she awaited the complaints and bloodshed from both sides, wanting to get her fix of entertainment for the night.


"speech"

Default to Chrysanthe

Due to Isardis not posting in the allotted time, Chrysanthe is the winner, and Liberty's Valhallan status is not up for debate.

Isardis must give up by either passing out, submitting, or running away.

*by request of Serendipity Isardis will not be castrated.

Seren confirmed she had requested the default. Seren and I had spoken and I thought we had come to the agreement nobody would be defaulted?
This is is really unexpected to come back from a funeral, being only a few hours late and all. :/ Plus I'm sorry for this being ooc but I don't know where else to write it. If Seren had requested the default, can somebody confirm this via PM or whatever so I can rechallenge/request my post count reduction.

It would be by some horrific miracle that the beast would strike something critical; what seemed to be an aimless thrust between his hind legs conformed so quickly to an act of sheer luck. Heat ran down the base of his inner thigh, jaws snapping at anything within reach as the albino felt the consciousness draining from his skull. Or rather from the artery in his limb. How? How had the pathetic woman managed such a thing? And all by pure accident, by luck, she was a dry, filthy cheat. She bore no victory. Anger would fight the air-headedness that threatened to overwhelm him, the angel refusing to let go as he fell to the earth writhing, yelping, gasping, screaming. The bitch had sent him into the plummets of despair, wounded his pride in a way no other had managed before. It would be fixed. As soon as he were recovered, hell! ? before he was recovered- he would have his revenge, and with far more hostility than had been done this time. Valhalla had earned an enemy. War was afoot.

The fight was over far sooner than the woman thought it would be. Her stomach burned at the sounds of agony that the Glaciem king made - and although he was after the freedom of one of her own members, she couldn't help the moment of pity. "Well - aren't you going to help your king?!" She barked to the bystanders, wondering why no one had taken the initiative and come to the fallen male's aid. For now, she would pause, examining the situation. Liberty was safe now - although for how long she could not say. Yet opposed to the feeling of triumph, for coming out of this fight the victor - she would have other things to rethink. Thanks to her, for not making sure that only the council had come here with her - her husband's freedom was now in danger. Apparently Seraphine had wanted to make sure that the council that had come turned out alright - and that was more than enough for Argent to act upon her earlier threat - even though Glaciem was far from outnumbered here, and three of the Valhallan bystanders were under two. So terrified of numbers, and yet they were so proud of themselves... they were not of a mindset that the alpha could understand.

Even so, she would step forward if Gideon did not fight for himself. He was an alpha beside her, there was no reason to challenge for him, save for spite. With Isardis fallen, she was not completely sure how many members of higher rank that Glaciem had - but she would be finding out. No matter what, they were out one... "Cormalin speaks the truth. If you decide not to hear it, it will be your mistake." The woman moved to stand beside the brute, not liking what she was about to demand. "Should you go through with this challenge, you will fight my husband for his own freedom - Cormalin will fight for the boy's freedom," She motioned toward Taurig, the male who had come with Isardis and Argent to Valhalla. "Azalea hers-" The alpha motioned toward the dark woman that had come here, smelling of Glaciem as well (Sendoa). "-and I yours. Choose wisely Argent." If Glaciem wanted to fight dirty, then she would fight dirty. She trusted her council to trust her with this split decision. Should Glaciem claim, or try to claim her husband, she would take something important from them to trade for him later. The last thing the woman wanted were prisoners or any type of slaves, but she would need bartering chips for Gideon - that is, if the man even lost in the first place. She was simply thinking ahead... as well as trying to end this awful incident because honest to goodness it should have been over when Isardis fell.

If they called it all off, they could avoid this, and the ice wolves could attend to their fallen King properly. "Call off your challenge, and there will be no prisoners taken, no war made, your king won't stand the chance of bleeding to death - and we can put it all behind us. We can all quietly go home." It was all the woman wanted after all. "Dont - and Valhalla will take a couple of prisoners when we finally do." She would have preferred coming here and fighting Isardis without any bystanders - but now it seems that both packs would suffer for bringing extras to the battlefield.

Lesson learned.

Azalea had been so blissfully unaware of her proximity to a scrap with Argent. The large female could likely overpower her easily. The peppers male with blue eyes was on his teeth as well, demanding the Valhallan's control their children. This was enough to leave her jaw gaping open in the offense she took to being called a child. There was a horrible cry then, breaking her concentration and causing her to flinch back. It was Isardis, Chrysanthe's jaws coming away ripe with blood. Had she done it? Had she removed the male of his rights to breed? No. Her teeth had landed elsewhere but the damage done seemed tenfold, blood gushing like water from a geyser. The smell of iron swamped her senses. "Well - aren't you going to help your king?!" Chrysanthe demanded and Azalea looked at her aunt with admiration. She didn't think if she were in her place that she could feel such compassion for life. If Azalea were the one to have inflicted that wound, she would have wished a cold lonely grave upon the bastard. Chrysanthe spoke on, bidding Argent and the other Glaciem wolves to stand down and give up the fight. Chrys motioned from wolf to wolf. If things went south Cromalin would take the peppered male and Azalea would take the dark female he clung to. Would this be how it went? Azalea knew better than to wish for a fight but she wouldn't complain if she got to claim a pound of flesh for herself. She re-positioned herself, her legs spread and slightly bend, ready to rush forward. An ear tipped to her leader and kin, waiting for the signal to either make a move or head for home.

Defenses fell into place; ears slammed against his head, tail went out to act as a rudder, and eyes narrowed in. Head lowered over his breast and shoulders rocked forward to defend his vitals. As he moved forward his weight was evenly distributed between limbs that had bent knees, and his jaws remained opened. War was war, and he would dance with his devil. He'd tap dat ass.

Like a serpent his jaws snapped forward in an attempt to grab her left shoulder, his head remained low, and chin tucked in what ever way it could. Gideon's left shoulder would raise and attempt to slam dead center of her upper chest, and his left paw would leave the ground, he would adjust his weight to the three remaining limbs. The left paw would raise and attempt to slam into the knee of Argen't right limb. He wanted to see her bow before him. Now, he wanted to smash the youth within' her womb. She wouldn't take him without it costing her. It was her only warning. His freedom in exchange for her children. It was a fair warning. She had one chance to pull back.

Gideon vs. Argent for Gideon & Abortion

Round one of three

With a cheap shot her King would fall, but Argent would not let herself linger. With Isardis currently out of commission, she was now in charge of Glaciem, and this situation was most dire. She would pay no mind to the uproar of the commoners, instead listening to the russet-kissed alpha. For a moment she considered heeding the advice; she was only just barely with child, enough to show but not enough to hinder her movements, but she didn?t want to risk losing her children. And yet, she couldn?t help think of him. ?Taurig, as your Duchess, I hereby promote you to Overseer. It?s been a long time coming,? Argent informed Isardis?s son. She was still uncertain if she would go through with the challenge, but at the very least she wasn?t leaving Taurig without a way to defend himself. ?Eris, take care of Isardis. Vixe, help her carry him away,?she ordered. Even still, she looked somewhat reluctant. Argent knew she could always become pregnant again, but it was a pain she didn?t necessarily want to face if she didn?t have to. The indecision was obvious on her face for a moment, and then her mouth parted, words beginning to spew forth.
?I do believe I-,? she didn?t get a chance to finish her words, her potential withdrawal, before the impatient shit was coming charging for her. Argent had never dropped her defenses; legs were spread, weight evenly distributed across four limbs, legs bent, center of gravity lowered, toes slightly spread out, tail tucked, hackles raised, shoulders rolled, head lowered to align with her spine, chin tucked, neck scrunched, jaws parted, eyes narrowed and ears pinned back. To her, his warning wasn?t apparent. Nothing about him announced to her that he was going for abortion, for he neither spoke of it nor tried to go to her rear. She was of course defensive of her womb, a natural response. To her, it seemed Chrysanthe had tried to make her seem weak by getting her to step down, and then sending someone to attack her anyways. It enraged her, made her want blood, and Argent in that moment decided she might as well go for Chrysanthe?s balls (no, not that the woman actually had them, but Argent merely saw the foolish man as a toy for the white wench, and to castrate him would be to damage Chrysanthe?s property). Even if this wasn?t part of a master plan, it would make this man a disobedient secondary alpha, and Argent would simply be doing the dove-colored woman a favor by making him a bitch. Nothing about her announced this intent, of course, just like nothing about Gideon announced his, but it was what was at stake.
Gideon was three inches taller than her, and he had a bit more bulk to him, but none of this deterred the just slightly pregnant woman. She was still capable of battle, and she was capable of keeping him from her own rear. Of course, she had no actual way of knowing his intent, but it was natural for a pregnant woman to be defensive of her womb. Actually, at least part of her felt that it needed to be defended, for even though she was still technically fighting for Gideon, he had attacked her first without asking if she wanted to back down or hearing what she had to say. Clearly he meant her harm.
As her defenses had been already in place and her realizations and decisions had been made in half a moment, Argent was left with plenty of time to rush forwards and greet her opponent. Strong limbs hauled her forwards at almost a spring, moving to her own left during her rush so that she wasn?t charging quite so head on. Instead, she wanted to put her right shoulder just to the side of his right shoulder, hoping to slam his far right chest with the bony protrusion and the force of her forward momentum (considerable, given how hard she?d been running). Just before this her own right paw had lifted, weight redistributing amongst the remaining three limbs, seeking to slam down upon Gideon?s front right paw at hopefully the same time her shoulder hoped to hit, hoping to crush the toe bones (for toe bones were easily breakable things). This movement in positions caused a number of shifts in Gideon?s attacks; first of all, his left shoulder met air, not a body in front of it thanks to the fact that Argent had shifted to her own left (Gideon?s right), thus allowing Argent to dodge all damage from his left shoulder. His left paw would meet air for a similar reason, given that her right limb was no longer in front of it or in an easy range for the paw to manage to hit.
Gideon?s jaws did manage to do better; they didn?t bite into their intended target, but they did sink into the outside part of her right shoulder (OOC:what?s labeled shoulder in this diagram as ?shoulder?), managing to obtain a grip, missing her left for it had moved out of his range much like Argent?s leg and chest had, making Argent hiss but not giving her much pause thanks to the relief of adrenaline. Right now she had four deep punctures in the fleshy part of her shoulder, but not much other damage to the area. She didn?t pause, however. Instead her head turned to her own right, jaws hoping to snap for her opponent?s neck. Gideon had neglected to raise his hackles or scrunch his neck (OOC: utilizing the rule about defenses needing to be in each post. Because these weren?t listed in Gideon?s post, I am assuming he wasn?t doing them), leaving his neck exposed. Her jaws lunged forwards, seeking to bite around the bone, able to do so for if his head lowered enough to bite into her shoulder, he?d certainly exposed the area to her. It meant his head would be lower than hers, and his neck bones exposed.
Her jaws angled to adjust for what she was attempting, turning downwards to help protect her chin and twisting to further allow the grip she sought on his neck bone, aiming for about midway along the neck. She wanted to apply a crushing pressure with her jaws, hoping to obtain a grip, for even if he had a grip upon her shoulder, an exposed neck was a greater issue. Argent could live with torn muscles in her shoulder; Gideon couldn?t live with a broken neck.








ARGENT vs. GIDEON for GIDEON AND CASTRATION
1/3
DEFENSES: legs were spread, weight evenly distributed across four limbs, legs bent, center of gravity lowered, toes slightly spread out, tail tucked, hackles raised, shoulders rolled, head lowered to align with her spine, chin tucked, neck scrunched, jaws parted, eyes narrowed and ears pinned back.
INJURIES: four deep punctures/grip on her right shoulder
ATTACKS: seeking to slam her right shoulder into gideon?s far right chest, hoping to break gideon?s toes by slamming her right paw down on them, jaws hoping to grip onto gideon?s neck bones and break them

This couldn't be happening. It wasn't happening. It was all a dream. He wasn't in the battlefield, standing in front Argent, watching his father duel with the red faced queen. He wasn't trying to reign himself in from possibly making the situation worse than it already was. But it got even worse. It was beyond worse. It was unimaginable now. Sendoa had said his father knew what he was doing. She had been confident when she'd told him that Isardis knew what he was doing. So how could this happen? Yelps of pain drew the Knight's attention away from the red-faced youth and Erani's brother Cormalin, returning it to where it should've been the whole time. He was somewhat glad he hadn't been paying enough attention to catch his father's demise, but the aftermath was just as bad. The pale King lied on the ground, a wound dripping his life force onto the ground. So close to his most prized possessions, but the queen either missed or decided to spare Isardis from the humiliation of castration. ISARDIS! Would come the titan's quaking boom, icy gaze widening to an impossible size as it was directed towards his aunt. Sendoa had said he'd known what he was doing, so why was he lying on the ground injured while the valhallan queen walked off scott-free?! He wanted to rush forward to the aid of his father, but Argent was speaking to him first. Taurig, as your Duchess, I hereby promote you to Overseer. It?s been a long time coming. Shock rippled across his frame, but his features would harden into an unreadable mask. Argent was promoting him to Overseer, which meant that he was able to fight for himself instead of having someone fight for him. He was going to fight Cormalin, the elder healer and warrior Erani's brother. If his sister was anything to judge by, the man was a good wolf and he was sure that this wasn't something he wanted to partake in. Taurig didn't want to fight, but they had just challenged him from his freedom and even if there were a few Valhallan's that would welcome him in his midst, he wasn't about to give himself up, not in front of his family. He owned his own freedom and no one was going to take it away from him. A silent nod was given to his duchess, stepping aside as she and the russet King began their challenge. Icy gaze was directed towards the elder ebony man with the star across his forehead and dual colored eyes. I do not wish to harm you, so if you would back down from this, neither of us will fight. But if you choose to go through with it, know that I won't spare mercy on you because I own my freedom and am prisoner of no one. The titan would stand like immovable statue several paces from his aunt, sparing a glance in her direction before focusing on the Valhallan he was to duel, frame tense with anticipation, ready to spring into his defenses or straight into offensive at the man's response. Talk like this

It was all changing fast, so fast - in fact - that her heartbeat began to quicken with the excitement of it all. Isardis had been wounded, and as he fell to the earth she knew that more damage was done than expected. She hadn't expected the cheap-shot of Chrysanthe's to land it's mark, and though it missed the family jewels, it had still done considerable damage to her brother. The evidence was there, as ruby-red liquid gushed onto his pallid frame. Oh how she wished she could run to his side, lick his wounds and remind him of how strong he was - just as she had done in his first year of life - but she could not. Argent strode forth, challenging for the Valhallan King. Sendoa groaned. With a fallen King it was not wise to go stoking the fire. Still, Chrysanthe seemed to be irritated enough, and commanded those with her to fight the wolves she 'assigned' them to. Foolishly she would tell a mere child to claim Sendoa. How marvelous for the Overseer. The girl couldn't be more than a year or two at best, barely off of the teat. Gideon set himself into motion, whilst Argent seemed to be willing to relinquish her claim - but all at once they were off. Vixe and Eris seemed to be having difficulties tending to Isardis, an ear flickered back at their tardiness. The King needed to be tended to at once, not when it was convenient! Eyes narrowed as her ears laid back, glancing in the direction of the girl she was apparently supposed to fight. ?This is your one chance, so choose wisely. You gamble with your freedom.? If the girl insisted on a fight, then a fight it would be. If she were smart she would end the claim and the two would leave peacefully. Her line of sight would flicker to Isardis, a pain in her chest because of his weakened state. She noted that Taurig was speaking as well, seemingly offering Cormalin the same offer. Glaciem was not a foolish pack, and though Argent had behaved hastily, it didn't mean that they couldn't leave as a whole. ?Chrysanthe, think about what you are doing.? It would be all she said, and the tone would hopefully implore the alpha to see beyond the quarrels that had started and perhaps remedy what she could of the situation. She prepared herself anyway, tucking her chin down toward her chest, widening her stance and digging her claws into the earth. Eyes did not yet narrow, though her ears remained laid back. Only time would tell what the girl and her leader chose to do. ?speak,?

Paw pads kissed the earth elegantly as he carried himself toward the battlefield. He had been around collection herbs, and after a half hour or so, he could hear a lot of commotion coming from the arena. Sure, fights were a regular occurrence there, only this didn't sound like a single fight. Many voices and snarls were echoing across the land, and being a healer, it was his job to make sure everyone was safe, whither it be an enemy, or a friend. After a short time he came onto the scene, and what was unfolding before him was a shock. There was a cluster of wolves, each seeming to be on separate sides, because one group was facing off with another. His ears tipped back slightly, and when the fresh scent of blood graced his nostrils his pace picked up. Someone was bleeding, and from what he smelt it wasn't just a scratch or two. Someone was bleeding out.

His jog turned into almost a full on sprint as he rushed toward the scene. Faces started to materialize, the first one being Gideon and some grey scaled female. They were fighting, for what he didn't know, and as badly as he wanted to interrupt, he didn't want to throw Gideon off his game. The second to come was one he feared he would never see again. It was Chrysanthe, the beautiful woman he had met a few seasons ago. Instantly there had been an attraction between them, well, on his part at least, because from then on he had never let go of that longing. Butterfly's were starting to form in his stomach just from seeing her, but he ignored his pup like reaction. Someone needed help, and they needed it now.

"Chrysanthe! Are you alright!?" He called to her as he made his way toward what could be an emergancy. In all honesty she was top priority, because if she was hurt and he didn't tend to her, he would hate himself. She seemed distracted with what was going on before her, and despite her attention being away from him he wasted no time coming to her. She only had a few scratches from what he could see, and she didn't seem to be drowning in her own blood. thank goodness... a sigh of relieve washed over him as he attempted to run his nose along the side of her cheek in a friendly manner. He was about to start asking questions, but then the sickening scent wafted across his nostrils again. Quickly he turned, eyes scanning the crowd beyond the fight that seemed to be directly between the two groups.

There. Passed out on the cold earth was a figure, a hard one to miss too. The purest of ivory draped its features, and unless he was crazy, it seemed to have a pink tint to it. An albino perhaps? He wasted no more time thinking, he could already see the pool of crimson around the lifeless figure. What if he was too late? "He needs my help." He said in almost a whisper as he darted away from the woman. He felt bad for leaving her, but what else was he supposed to do? He wouldn't allow someone to die here, at least, not on his watch. Powerful legs carried the man toward the ivory figure, and the closer he came, the more intoxicating the scent became. He was bleeding out fast, and Themisto had no time to waste.

When he reached him he went straight to work. All other voices were toned out, all other members became a blur. It was him and this unknown man, and that was the way it would stay until he was certain he was alright. With a push of his nose he moved the mans back leg slightly. The blood was seeping heavily from his inner thigh, and luckily for him it was the one he hadn't passed out on. If it would have been the other leg, Themisto would have had to completely flip him over. think Themisto think... What stops heavily bleeding quickly... His mind started racing as different herbs popped up in his mind. He had so many options, both for pain and clotting, but getting the wound to stop bleeding enough to get him to safety would be a challenge. Elevate it, clean it, apply pressure, dress it. The steps repeated through his head over and over as he searched around for a rock big enough to elevate the ivory mans leg. He saw one not too far from him, and quickly rushed over to get it. With a few pushes of his front paws he rolled it back to the man, and with a few adjustment he placed the bleeding leg onto the rock, slightly elevating it to help stop the bleeding.

Clean it. His tongue caressed the wound as he began what would be a long, and foul tasting, process. If he were to clean the wound he would first need to see it. Blood was thickly matted around the wound, but after some cleaning, and almost gagging, he could finally get a good look at it. It appeared to be a severe bite mark, from who he didn't know, nor did he care at this moment. He continued cleaning the wound with his tongue because he had nothing else to use at the moment. If he had been by fresh water he could have used that, but his saliva was better than nothing.

Apply pressure, then dress it. His gaze finally lifted from the man as he looked around for something to place over the wound. He remembered using spider webs to soak up the blood, and turmeric could help with pain and internal bleeding. Once he dressed the wound he was sure the bleeding would greatly stop, so he wasted no time rising and taking off toward his secret stash. After all, what good healer didn't have a secret stash near the battlefield for a time like this? He was always prepared, because if Maverick was ever sent into battle here, he would be the one to tend to his wounds. Feet seemed to fly above the earth as he sprinted toward his stash, and when he got there, he scooped up the herbs, webs, and leaved needed to dree it with a swift motion. Then he turned back to the field, ignoring everyone else that was around them. If someone were to interfere he would still ignore them, and if they were to attack, he would do his best to dodge and keep going to work. Coming to a thudded stop he came back to the man, and still, wasted no time. He first placed the turmeric all along the wound. He imagined when the man regained consciousness he would need some pain relief, so he saved a bit on the side for that. Then, he placed the wads of spider webs over the herbs, which would not only help stop the bleeding, but it would help keep the herbs in the wound.

Now, to dress the wound. He placed the large leaves he had grabbed around the wound, and wrapped each one as many time as possible. When three or four leaves had been wrapped he used his paws and teeth to tie the ends into a knot, that way it would come undone or fall off. He placed his paw over the nadage and applied pressure. Now, to take him to safety... His head rose, and things started to materialize. Gideon was still fighting, and others were starting to challenge others. Something important was happening here, what he wasn't exactly sure, but he needed to take this man away from here. His head was facing the Glaciem side of the groups, and loudly he called to anyone who was willing to help. "I don't know this man, and I'm not sure if you do either. As a healer it is my job to help and serve anyone who needs it, enemy or friend. I'm a strong man, but I will need the assistance of one other to take this man to safety. I need to get him to the nearest body of water. Please, I will repay the favor in time, I assure you that." He didn't know it, but the kings blood dripped from his maw and down his throat. If someone new came along they might even think he was the one who did this, because it sure seemed like it. Without a second thought he grabbed the mans scruff and started his journey toward wolfpaw lake. He only hoped that someone else would join him in rescuing this stranger.

-EXIT THEMISTO WITH ISARDIS, AND ONE OTHER WOLF-

OOC: ignore errors, I had to leave before I could spell check and read over. Enjoy! Important parts are paragraphs 3, 4, and 8 :3

"Themisto? What are you doing here?" She would question the Seracian. It had been months since she had last seen him, and this was not where she wanted to have a reunion. Yet the healer would give her a once over - and then move to treat the fallen King. It irked her, that this new Glaciem could not even tend to the wounds of their own fallen leader. They could not bring him home themselves, could not rush in to treat him as Themisto had done. Subtly it fueled the fire...

Her husband was fighting now - and Argent made no move to retract her challenge. And so they would fight - she had warned them what would happen should her husband's freedom be challenged for, and they had not taken heed regardless of the circumstances. It seemed the followers of the King though, were less than willing to fight without their leader being awake. It was understandable, but the pleas of the boy, as well as the woman would not be considered. Just as a stray Valhallan had brought about Argent's challenge, Argent's challenge had brought about her retaliation.

She was not surprised when Taurig began to tense, willing to fight for himself with his newly appointed rank. It was the dark woman's fighting stance that surprised her - as she asked her to think about what she was doing. "Your leaders have brought this upon the lot of you." If Valhalla had challenged for two of Glaciem's members before hand it would have been unquestionable war she was sure. "Isardis's challenge for Liberty was uncalled for, as is the challenge for my husband." Yet the woman was right about one thing - Azalea was not fit to fight her. The girl was young, inexperienced, Chrysanthe would not let this woman be her first opponent.

"Oh, you are of rank in Glaciem? Then let's make this a fair fight." The other woman would fight the alpha opposed to the girl. She was unsure of what this woman was capable of, but she would find out. The alpha took a defensive stance, her eyes narrowing and her ears pinned. The woman's head lowered and her hackles bristled once more with the thought of this up and coming fight. "Unless you would rather come to Valhalla without one." It was a shame, she and the boy had stable heads on their shoulders - something she had yet to see of their ivory King. She held nothing against any individual member of Glaciem, but that did not mean that she wouldn't fight with everything that she had.

Her balance was even, her back legs squared despite the wound to her outer thigh. It throbbed somewhat, pain pulsating from the wound, but she would ignore it for the time being. The alpha's shoulders would roll to protect the sides of her neck, and she fell into a defensive stance, her body lowered because of her bent front legs. Her jaws would remain agape, protecting her throat should the dark woman go for that vital area. Her tail would remain tucked behind her, and her toes dug into the ground below her. "This is a challenge for your freedom." Slowly she would motion toward her, awaiting movement from her opponent.

Regardless she would charge, coming at her in a frontal assult. Yet as she approached her her target would become the left side of the dame's neck, just below her left ear. She aimed to wrap her jaws around the area and yank once she tasted any sort of blood in her mouth. With a push she would pull herself slightly upward - but she would not need to rise from the ground, as she and her opponent were the same height. It was more to thrust herself into the other, in hopes to retain a more certain grip.

defenses: eyes narrowed, ears pinned, head lowered, hackles raised, shoulders rolled, tail tucked, back legs squared, front legs lowered, jaws agape
attacks: attack to the left side of Sendoa's neck
injuries: scrape / bite wound above her eye, bite wound to her right outer thigh (from fight with Isar)

Round one of ???

edit: to include attack and round number

It seemed to Azalea that she was surrounded by fighting wolves. Tooth and claw meeting as the wolves went to war. She could never have predicted such blood loss when she had left Valhalla earlier in the day, anticipating a quick battle over Liberty in which her pack mates returned home in one piece. Here they stood, bodies strewn around the field and Isardis seemingly forgotten where he fell. Chrysanthe was right to haze the Glaciem wolves, not a one coming forward to even ask their King if he was alright. Would they just let him lie there and bleed out? What the hell kind of loyalty was that? They all seemed pumped up for more fighting but clearly not a single one was a healer or of healer blood or else they would be on the ground by their fallen lord trying to save him from a pathetic death in the dirt. The young lass found her senses barraged, freezing up to try and take it all in. Isardis looked like a painting that should be hung in a gallery, a vision of white and red. Argent and Gideon were deep in battle and before Azalea stood her own emissary. Green eyes stood out of a black face and Azalea considered the wolf before her. ?This is your one chance, so choose wisely. You gamble with your freedom.? Her ears pulled back but Azalea found herself at a loss for words. She could not tell if she was frightened or offended. The realization had sunk in that she was being thrown into battle, a real battle. She was out of practice, if she had ever truly been in practice. Unseasoned and not even a proper adult. The Glaciem wolf bid Chrysanthe to reconsider this decision and yet she prepared herself for a fight rather than standing down. Azalea's lips drew back, ears withdrawing once more and her tail going up in a confident banner-like position. She moved forward, amber eyes assessing the larger female as her body worked into the right positioning. Lowering her center by giving more space to the placement of her paws, this also adding more balance. The Valhallan Heir was ready to fight for her pack now, her mind jumping ahead to plan her attack. Clearly an attack to the neck was not an option, it was the most well guarded, as was Azalea's now as she lowered her dome and nose tipped down to let loose an ugly snarl. She would aim for the upper arm region, right above the start of the leg near the front of the shoulder. It was there that she would strike first knowing the way the skin could pull forward there and the deltoid that hid below. Attack there and she could not only rip into muscle but also cause one hell of a gaping wound. "Oh, you are of rank in Glaciem? Then let's make this a fair fight." Suddenly Chrysanthe was there, setting herself in place of Azalea. Her head shot up, body language indignant, "What?!" Her tone was shrill. Azalea snarled in frustration, snapping her jaws. Chrysanthe was her superior though, she had no right to fight her, so Azalea stood down. She let her tail fall, stepping back to let her aunt rise to the challenge. "Good fight, and fight good," She whispered to her aunt, hoping to catch her eye to show the confidence she held in her. If anyone could bring them home safely it was Chrysanthe.

She had arrived at the beginning of the challenge between Isardis and Chrysanthe, and had watched, with wide eyes at the damage and the scene that had unfolded. Anger coursed through her, an emotion that shocked her, due to the rather new-ness of her loyalty to her king, and to Glaciem. Everything happened so quickly. Chrysanthe snapped, going for his groin and a low growl bubbled in her throat, luckily the alphess of Valhalla had missed. In horror she watched as he king crumpled to the ground.

Rooted to the spot, her eyes darted between her king and Argent, as words and new challenges were spoken. It seemed that war was breaking out all around her as fight after fight broke out. Taurig was promoted and Eris was ordered to tend to her king. Casting a long look at Argent, her friend and over-seer she turned to head towards the king, wondering who this other wolf Argent had addressed was. A stranger approached her king, and a snarl rose to her maw as her pace headed towards him, dodging around the other wolves. Coming around another, she saw the stranger was tending to him, and came to a halt beside him, just as his words rang out towards Glaciem.

?I am Eris, curer of Glaciem.? The introduction would be brief, and frank. ?Let?s get him out of here.? Her words would be cool, tightly concealing any emotion she felt. It would do her pack no good, for them to see their healer distraught. Nudging her king, the examined the work of the other wolf, and found it to be satisfactory.

As the other lifted her king, she cast another glance at her pack, a long sigh exiting her maw. How she wished it wouldn?t have come to this. Stepping forward she gently picked up the scruff of his back in her jaws, hoping to still his hindquarters as they carried him forward, and away from the thick of the war that seemed to be erupting. She didn?t know what she would do if another was injured and needed her to tend to them. She would call someone from Glaciem, she supposed once Isardis was stable to stay with him while she returned to check on the rest of the pack, but for now, he was her only concern. Isardis had to be alright.

Defenses remained upheld, his head lowered over his breast, as best it could, and his chin tucked as well as it could be given the fact he was attempting to snag her shoulder. Jaws were, obviously open, and his limbs were bent with his weight perfectly, and evenly, distributed, between the three grounded ones (as one was attacking). Tail was struck out to act as a rudder and proclaim his dominance over the little woman. He wanted to watch her world crash around her. Hopefully, defeat would do that. Eyes narrowed in, ears rocked back, and claws tapped onto the earth tapering lightly for what traction he could get.

Spine in alignment he would grimace as his own left shoulder was too far off to do any damage. Originally, yes, he would have met his target, though now, with her weaving in, he was not granted such a beautiful thing. The bony edge of her right shoulder would slam into his chest, and he would slightly bow back so the damage dealt was not so efficient. Instead of complete and volatile bruising, he was merely faced with moderate bruising that would only turn into tender to touch areas. Her right paw would slam down onto his left paw's toes and easily meet their mark, and he could feel the slight crack of what felt to be the two left-most toes. They weren't broken, but they weren't in perfect condition. Fractures perhaps? Finally, her jaws surged forward in an attempt to grasp his neck, however, (quote: from post one: "Shoulders rocked forward to defend his vitals." Neck is protected.) Teeth would lightly grasp the flesh, but mostly the rolls of fur that encumbered his neck. 1/8 inch deep cuts from her four main canines would appear on his neck, however, a decent bit of fur would follow her pulling motion and be ripped from his neck. That, hurt substantially more than her teeth actually meeting his skin.

As her shoulder had come forward to hit him, he had lowered his left limb back to the ground, transferring weight back onto all fours. His right shoulder would then attempt to take his right shoulder, instead of his left, and slam it into the base of her neck, dead center with her chest. Teeth would again attempt to snap into the shoulder he had attacked before (her right). Hopefully, both attacks would land, and he would have a decent advantage, something that would hopefully daze her for a good moment. He just wanted to dance around and see what he could get. Hopefully, he'd get her to open up. He wouldn't move his limb from the ground again, especially given that the toes were so heavily damaged, but he would attempt to shove her forward to hopefully lessen the stability she had on the earth. His back legs would bend slightly more before he ushered his body forward in a mere attempt to force his weight towards her and into her.

Gideon vs. Argent for Gideon & Abortion

Round two of three