Enyo's massive frame moved through the tall, lush grasses of Emerald Valley, her silver-blue and icy-blue eyes scanning the landscape with keen intensity. The heavy musk of mahogany, teakwood, and leather trailed behind her, mingling with the damp earth and the scent of prey that littered the valley. She sniffed disdainfully at the herbs scattered across the ground, pawing through them half-heartedly. This task was beneath her.

Herbs. Of all the things her brother could have asked, it had to be this. A growl rumbled low in her throat as she pushed a patch of lavender aside with her massive paw, her thick, rugged fur bristling in irritation. The thick muscles of her neck and shoulders tensed as she picked up a sprig of something green, examining it briefly before tossing it aside with an air of contempt. The task was mundane, a waste of her strength and her potential. There were wolves better suited to this. Those without the stature or the raw power of the Dunamis bloodline coursing through their veins. She was a force to be reckoned with, not some herbalist tending to greenery like a common scavenger.

Still, the command came from Erebros, and despite her many grievances, she would not defy her brother- not openly, at least. Her loyalty to her bloodline was absolute. Her relationship with her brother had been tested many times, tempered and built to last. Erebros did not do things to just humiliate her, she was grateful that he respected her. So while she felt resentment simmering below, she tried to justify or at least understand his reasons behind assigning her to this specific task. Was it to be as a break? She had been working hard lately, pushing herself harder and harder during the attempts at expanding pack territory. Perhaps he knew she was not the sort to just take a rest day, she had to accomplish something. Maybe, she came to realize, this was his way of forcing her to take a break. With menial work that still could be considered productive.

Her thoughts drifted as she straightened up, her eyes momentarily catching her reflection in the glimmering waters of the nearby river. She paused, the river’s soft gurgling drawing her gaze. It was instinctive, the way her gaze lingered on the handsome, imposing figure that looked back at her. Strong, fierce, undeniably powerful. The corners of her icy eyes softened for a fleeting moment, indulging in the sight of herself. The goddess of war she was named after suit her. Divine stature she was blessed with, yet cursed in a world that dared to diminish her worth because of her gender. Yet, beneath that veneer of self-admiration lurked the familiar thorn of envy, the same envy that gnawed at her whenever she thought of her male relatives.

If only you had been born a son... If only. Why wouldn't she be enough as she was now? It felt that her brother was the only one who truly understood Enyo's worth. He treated her as he treated the others. It was one of the reasons she would never betray him, she planned to stand beside her littermate as they did from the beginning. From birth to death, she would help prop her brother up into power. To help him achieve his goals, it was how she showed the love she would not display in a hug or promise with words. Enyo could hope that being so far away from the elders and her parents would allow her to breathe. To become more. To transcend the limitations thrown upon women in the family.

Her tail twitched or what little remained of it, anyway. A stark reminder of battles fought, won, and tests she failed at the cost of her relentless pursuit of respect. The bobbed stump wasn’t something she flaunted, but neither did she hide it. It was proof of her resilience, a badge of honor despite the loss. She was still every bit the warrior she had always been.

The world around her was peaceful and serene despite the storm brewing inside her. She sniffed the air, picking up the scent of prey nearby. Large animals grazed in the distance, their presence only adding to her irritation. Why was she here collecting herbs when her strength could be used to take down prey, to show her power? But no, she was bound by the task given to her by her brother.

Her eyes narrowed as she plucked another herb from the ground, holding it up to the light before adding it to her small collection with a sigh. She didn't even know if these were the correct ones nor did she care. Erebros could sort through them and decide what was worthwhile and what was of no use. She just picked something up that she thought looked more important than the rest. Fine, she thought, the weight of duty pressing down on her as much as her envy.


"SPEECH"

CODE BY SIN

The scent of mahogany and leather drifted toward him, mingling with the damp, earthy air and faint traces of prey nearby. But the core of it was hers—he was certain. Even as his attention flickered toward the underlying notes of a hunt and bloodshed, always calling to him, he remained still, watching the woman. His breath hitched, muscles tensing as his claws pressed into the soil, an instinctive response to the tension rising within. A subtle, persistent urge whispered to challenge her. She was different—new. And he relished testing the unfamiliar.

Her movements had purpose, though not the kind he had anticipated. Redrum had heard of her family joining his mother’s pack, but seeing her—and any of them, really—in person was something else entirely. He had never witnessed another family unit up close, had never seen the unity or power that came from shared blood. A force, perhaps—thick muscles, tension rippling beneath rugged fur—it all spoke of battle, of strength. She didn’t seem like one who belonged among herbs, not by any stretch of the imagination. But here she was. And restless. His curiosity was ravenous.

His ears pinned back as he shifted, gaze locked onto her as she continued her tedious task. He had no mind for the healing craft, all the crimson brute knew was the color red in every form. He inhaled deeply, an uneven breath escaping as the predatory drive flared in his chest. His muscles twitched again, his jaw tightening as thoughts of approaching flickered through his mind. But he hesitated. There was something about her—something that gave him pause. She wasn’t a wolf to be approached carelessly, though he couldn’t pinpoint why. He hadn’t known fear since his attack as a child—but maybe… This was something akin to anticipation.

He tilted his head, studying her in silence for a long moment before making his decision. His movements became fluid, deliberate. He prowled forward, confident yet marked by a peculiar oddness that was distinctly his. His golden eyes tracked her every motion, but his body language conveyed no threat, no ambush. He was, as usual, somewhere between the timing of a stalk and a lunge. His skull hung low between his shoulders, inviting her to notice him without the need for stealth. This wasn’t a hunt—it was a meeting, and now that he had stepped into her presence, retreat was no longer an option. “Hates herbs. But then– why does she collect– them? Masochist?” He rumbled out, eyes flashing from her task to the dirt on her paws, and back to her face. Fangs peeked out from his lips as he spoke, skin rippling with barely contained muscular spasms.


"Murder"

Enyo’s ears twitched as Redrum’s scent hit her, a sharp contrast of blood and primal ferocity. She recognized it instantly- the deep crimson undertone that she had come to associate with his presence since the hunt. Her gaze flicked over her shoulder, eyes locking onto him, catching his odd approach. There was something about his movements that both intrigued and unsettled her. A restless energy, a predator constantly on the brink. But today, instead of her usual biting edge, she felt something different- interest.

She shifted her weight, the powerful muscles in her shoulders rippling under her dense piebald coat. Her eyes turned toward him with a steady, assessing gaze. His words, teasing and edged with that peculiar ferocity of his, only deepened her intrigue. He was different from most in a wild erratic way that made her both curious and cautious. A worthy predator in his own right.

Enyo let out a low chuckle, his way of speaking was short and blunt. It would take some getting used to but she was already familiar with the oddities that she was becoming to know as Mortem. Her velvety voice was somewhat warmer than usual but still carried that ever-present undertone of sharpness. "Masochist?" Her gaze flicked to the herbs at her feet, her disdain for the task was evident in the way her lip curled slightly. "Perhaps. More so obligation. But we all do what our family asks of us, don’t we."

She lifted her head high again, the pride in her posture unmistakable, even as her words dripped with quiet resentment. Her broad chest expanded as she inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of Redrum as it mingled with the air. His presence was oddly welcome, though she wouldn’t admit it outright. He reminded her of the thing she loved most, bloodshed and the urge to destroy and rend. The darker side of Enyo that Erebros knew well. The force within her. She had seen him in action, watched him take down prey with a ferocity that spoke to her own battle-hardened spirit. In that, she found a kindred force. Someone who mirrored her primal savagery.

"And you, Redrum. Did you come all this way to mock me for gathering herbs, or is there something else on your mind?" She gestured to the herbs with a dismissive flick of her paw.

Her eyes gleamed with a challenge, a subtle invitation hidden beneath the layers of pride and superiority she wore like armor. There was a light tension in the air, the pull of two predators sizing each other up. Enyo held his gaze, unyielding yet unusually open, waiting to see what Redrum would do next.


"SPEECH"

CODE BY SIN

Redrum's gaze sharpened as Enyo’s question hung in the air, his golden eyes narrowing to slits, catching the weight of her challenge. The tension between them thickened—like blood. His lips curled slightly, revealing a fleeting glimpse of fangs, as though the question itself had bitten into something deeper and more primal within him. He listened to her laugh, her velvet voice laced with mockery, and his tall ears pinned sharply forward, alert.

"Mock? No… probably–not." His voice rasped unevenly, halting, each word forced past the familiar tension coiled in his throat. Yet beneath that roughness, there was something darker, something almost... playful. He was rumbling out his words like a dare. His body remained taut but not aggressive, coiled in a way that suggested readiness, not hostility. His nostrils flared, drawing in her scent, mingled with the bitter herbs she seemed to despise, while his claws flexed into the earth like a predator holding itself back, as always. He’d always had such a hard time making others comfortable in his presence.

“Enyo,” he continued, the pause stretching thick between syllables, “isn’t—” another hitch in his words, "the type for... mundane things, is she?" At least as far as he had been able to observe. His words lingered, almost taunting in their broken rhythm, as though he was savoring every second of her attention. His muscles rippled beneath his fur, betraying the restless energy simmering beneath the surface, as if each word threatened to spill over into something more—aggressive, challenging, daring her to respond.

"Enyo... prefers blood," he murmured, his voice dipping lower, as though testing the truth of the words. He stepped closer, deliberate, his head raising just enough to meet her eyes from beneath furrowed brows. His gaze flickered briefly to the herbs before returning to hers, locking on with a focus that bordered on untamed. "A fight. Not with plants."

“Will Enyo– fight Redrum?” His voice, devoid of hostility, was still the heavy weight of what remained unsaid, what could only be sought through blood and fangs and teeth.

""

Enyo’s eyes gleamed with a fierce, predatory light the moment Redrum spoke the words she hadn’t even realized she was longing to hear. Her heart quickened in her chest, a spark of excitement flaring in her belly. something raw and primal. A hunger she couldn’t suppress. His halting words, the rough edge to his voice, and the way he moved like a beast barely restrained only stoked that fire within her.

He gets it.

Her muscles tightened instinctively as she met his gaze, the blue eyes locking onto his golden ones with an intensity that sent a thrill through her. She had never been one for pleasantries or meaningless exchanges; blood and battle were the only languages that truly spoke to her soul. And here he was, offering her just that.

The challenge. The thrill. The fight.

A wide, dangerous grin spread across her broad muzzle, revealing the sharp, gleaming edges of her fangs. "So you’ve been paying attention." Her voice was low, thick with the pleasure of his understanding, a growl of approval rumbling in her chest. Redrum wasn’t like the others. She was beginning to understand that he not only saw but understood what she craved, what drove her. He wasn’t here to mock her or dismiss her. Nor was he a sycophant just whisked away by her prowess and size. He was here to challenge her, to test her in the way she knew best.

Enyo's massive frame shifted as she rose to her full height, her posture transforming from one of mundane obligation to that of a warrior preparing for battle. Her thick, muscular limbs braced against the earth, claws sinking into the soil with a satisfying crunch as she squared off with him. The tension that had been simmering between them now crackled in the air, thick with anticipation. She relished it, savored the way it made her blood hum with life.

Her broad shoulders rolled back, and her head dipped slightly, a playful glint in her eyes that was rarely seen. She was pleased- no, more than that, thrilled- by his invitation. This was what she had been waiting for, the mundane task of collecting herbs long forgotten. The thought of clashing with someone like Redrum, someone who could match her in both ferocity and strength, sent a thrill through her that was impossible to ignore.

"You understand a feeling that I cannot find the words for. Bloodshed... Fighting. Pain. Death. I love it. It is unparalleled pleasure," she purred, her voice dripping with anticipation. "Plants bore me. But a fight... now that’s something I live for."

Win or lose she was quite happy.

With a fluid motion, Enyo lowered herself into a fighting stance. Her thick, muscular body coiled and ready to spring. Her fur bristled along her back, the thick mane around her neck and shoulders only adding to her imposing silhouette. She felt alive. More alive than she had in days. Every nerve in her body buzzed with the promise of violence, her jaws parting slightly as a growl of satisfaction escaped her lips.

"Let’s see if you’re as dangerous as you look," she taunted, her eyes flashing with challenge, a grin still playing on her face. She lowered her head, muscles rippling beneath her dense fur as she prepared for his first move. "I hope you’re ready, Redrum. I don’t hold back. Don't inhibit yourself for me either. I can take a beating and I've never been afraid of pain." Her excitement seemed to get the best of her, raising the stakes of the fight.

The thrill of the hunt, the heat of battle- it was all she needed, and Redrum had just offered it to her on a silver platter.

ENYO vs Redrum for Minor Maim
Round 0/?
Age: over 1 year
Size: Dire wolf
Build: Heavy
Offensive Battle Accessory: Canine caps
Defensive Battle Accessory: Daedric armor
Companion 1: Peregrine Falcon, Female - Battle
Skills: Advanced Fighter & Novice Hunter
Specialty: None

"SPEECH"

CODE BY SIN

Redrum’s body responded before his mind could catch up. A tremor rolled through his muscles, one that ran deeper than the usual spasms—this anticipation, pure and raw. His ears twitched at her words, each one sinking into him like a well-aimed strike. The challenge was there, hanging in the air between them, and it felt like fire licking at his skin. His claws flexed deeper into the earth, as though grounding himself before the inevitable clash. Crude woman, but he liked the brutal words spilling from her maw.

Her grin sent a shiver down his spine. A gesture mimicked by the erratic curling of his own lips. She was hungry for the fight, as hungry as he was, and that made his blood hum. Hunter he was, and he wanted nothing more than to test if she was truly a predator herself; or prey to rend. His jaw twitched, this time more violently, his breath hitching as he inhaled her scent—wild, ready, charged with the same electricity that crackled in the space between them. The bitter herbs she had long discarded lingered faintly, but it was the scent of adrenaline, of a warrior preparing for battle—that consumed him. His weight swayed from left to right, perhaps loosening the tension within his joints.

He could hear the blood in his ears, hear the distant shriek of the feline beckoning him forward. Meanwhile, her words—they sank into him like claws. They were things he understood without needing to be taught. They spoke to the part of him that never fit anywhere, never found comfort in peace or pleasantries. Redrum didn’t need to respond, not with words at least. Instead, his body moved, fluid yet jagged in its own way, as though each motion was a struggle to contain something far more dangerous beneath the surface of his blood colored hide.

The air felt thick, heavier with every breath, the promise of violence filling his lungs with each inhale. Redrum’s shoulders rolled back, the motion slow, deliberate, his eyes narrowing to slits as he watched her every move. Her muscular form braced for a fight, and his body responded in kind—his spine arching slightly, fur bristling along his neck and shoulders as the tension in the air became nearly suffocating.

His golden eyes trailed the integrity of her fores before they locked onto hers, and something dark and primal stirred in the depths of his chest. The flicker of a grin ghosted over his lips once again as she assured him she was prepared for whatever he gave her, but it never quite formed as he laughed gruffly instead. Words failed the brute now, so he let his body speak for him, the feral energy rippling beneath his fur like a caged beast, just waiting for the signal to be unleashed. He took a step forward, slow and deliberate, his head dipping low as his long ears flattened against his skull, not out of submission—never— but focus.

Redrum’s lips curled again, this time a low rumble escaping his throat—a growl, but not quite. It was far too animalistic, beyond their current evolution. It was the sound of barely restrained excitement, of the need for blood, for a fight. He tilted his head, the motion slow, deliberate yet again, as though sizing her up in a way that wasn’t just physical. Ah. Words finally came to mind, and he spoke them into existence.

"Does Enyo— look good painted— red?” His voice was low, the pauses in his words more pronounced now as his breath quickened. He didn't need to say more. His muscles twitching and flexing as though waiting for that perfect moment to snap.

No more words. No more hesitation.

With a sudden burst of speed, he lunged, his body moving like a Freight train off its rails. There was no holding back. He didn’t think he could have anyways. The young brute’s gores reached to grapple at her, attempting to crash his chest into her own as he sought purchase with fangs— hoping to snatch the flesh at her jugular.

Redrum vs Enyo for Minor Maim (Scarring)
Round 1/2
Age: Over 1
Size: Extra large
Build: Heavy
Offensive Battle Accessory: Feline claw fittings
Defensive Battle Accessory: Feline mask
Companion 1: Merlin Falcon, Female - Perception
Companion 2: Merlin Falcon, Male - Perception
Skills: Master Fighter & Master Hunter
Specialty: Hawk-Eyed

"Murder"