SEVEN NATION ARMY
The call was enough to pull the Adravendi forward. It was the only thing that pulled him away from the woman whom he confessed his love to. He would attend this war, it was his duty to protect his pack, even though he was of hunter rank, he still possessed the warrior skills from before he left. He had confessed his love to Ashtoreth at last, and the feelings that he had confessed as well as what she confessed fueled his mind. The discovery of the fact that she loved him back fueled his heart, renewing his strength to push forward. His heart pumped, legs carrying him to the field of battle as his blue gaze blazed with new determination. He promised to keep Ash safe at all costs, and that is exactly what he intended. He would keep his eyes open for any attempts of the enemy trying to delve deeper into their territory, and stop them as soon as possible.
He came onto the fields, the war had started and the fighting rolled out in front him. Many of his pack mates were already in the fray, others waiting on the sidelines to see where they would go now. His heart raced with adrenaline as he searched around for an opponent or an ally in need of help. He braced himself in case someone decided to jump him, ears flattened, hackles raised, head lowered to protect his neck, tail tucked, eyes narrowed, and weight evenly distributed with splayed toes. He would wait then to see where he would go.
Round 1/∞
Who would come out victorious? Valhalla had the numbers and two allies as opposed to Glaciem's one. But would sheer numbers be the determining factor in this war? How many of the wolves fighting on the side of Valhalla were trained warriors? It was hard to tell, but the Adravendi hoped that at least if they weren't skilled that they had the courage and determination to make up for it. Valhalla had heart. He just hoped that would be enough to see them through this.
His grasp towards her shoulders would be in vain as she would mimic his rearing, lifting herself up, her forelimbs reaching up to intertwine with his, ruining his intended grasp. The attack he had launched on her ear would be successful, though not really as successful as he hoped. His right fang would pierce through her right ear, tearing straight through the tip of it, which wasn't much of a win but he would take it. It was only after he had managed to slide through her ear that she would once again relinquish her hold on his chest only to take another aim towards his right shoulder again, looking to make the already bad wound even worse. But Gael wasn't having it. Ears would remain tucked against his skull, cerulean gems narrowed to slits as the Heir would quick drop downwards in an attempt to dodge her initial attack, his forehead gaining the brunt of her jaws, upper fangs digging into his forehead while lower ones sliced across the bridge of his muzzle, leaving deep gashes. But the young man would not be deterred.
With his chin tucked against his bleeding chest, Gael would attempt to tuck himself beneath his opponent, gaping jaws ready to snap towards her abdomen to deliver a debilitating bite while his right forepaw would extend towards her hind limbs, looking to possibly offset her balance with a swipe at the right ankle. Knees would bend in order to lower the man's body towards the ground, tail slightly tucked between his hocks to remain out of reach, shoulders rolled forward to keep the protection around his vitals. His remaining limbs would be tucked evenly beneath him, muscles taut and tense, ready to spring out from beneath the woman were she to decide and retaliate.