as soon as i post this, im making the request to withdraw the gems from this account. the rules for challenge requirements, i noticed, has also been changed from two years of age to one year, so artemis does meet all the requirements now. this thread is set after sweet like cinnamon.
seren ily really, you get to decide the number of rounds, and good luck! <3

She'd traipse upon the blood of the fallen with a lingering sense of confidence, sauntering into the premises of the coliseum with the immaculate swagger of a seasoned juggernaut, skull kept low over her broadened chest cavity and tail streamlined with her spinal column. Even in her youth, the ambitious viper possessed an impressive musculature and a relentless urge for success, aspiring to achieve her maximum potential if only for the woman who possessed every iota of her devotion even as she presided in the afterlife as it's vindictive queen. Her mother was naught but a legend left to haunt her memories, but as the phantom approached the epicenter of the battlefield, upholding the weight of her impending endeavor upon squared, proud shoulders, the ice queen's spirits manifested within her veins, fueling her with life and willpower. Her time was now; she would finally live up to the surname bestowed upon her and she would achieve her destiny here and now -- or so she hoped. Strategically, the wraith would position herself downwind and remain attentive to her surroundings in hopes of detecting the potential presences of onlookers or challengers, defenses sliding into place as adrenaline consumed her robust form. Violet and silver gaze would narrow to dangerous slits, gleaming with maleficent intent while her limbs spaced themselves equidistant apart, toes reflecting a similar action and nails lightly kneading into the weathered earth for traction. Shoulders would roll and neck would scrunch to encumber the front, back, and sides of her neck in a halo of excess flesh and fat, appendages would bend to lower her center of gravity, and weight would shift evenly between each limb while her hackles prickled along the base of her neck and spine. Jaws would unhinge and frayed lips would peel back to reveal the chosen artillery of combat, gleaming threateningly beneath the silver lighting provided by the looming moon. At last, her abdomen would tense and her ears would press lightly against the contours of her crown, skull tipping back slightly to unleash an elongated and daring summon for the Valhallan sovereign: ?Will you defend your crown? A smirk contorts her porcelain countenance as she concludes her proclamation, eagerly awaiting for the masses to filter into the field and observe as she tests the boundaries on behalf of both her mother and King. ARTEMIS vs CHRYSANTHE for VALHALLA move ZERO of UNKNOWN ATTACK none DEFENSE skull lowered, tail out, eyes narrowed, limbs spaced evenly, toes spread, nails gripping, shoulders rolled, neck scrunched, limbs bent, weight evenly distributed, hackles raised, jaws gaping, teeth exposed, abdomen tensed, ears pinned INJURIES none

	The youth would heed to the call of his half sister, as her summons rang through the land with such command that his interest was peaked. What was she up too? Did the wraith view herself worthy to summon others to her commands? Yet curiosity pulled his paws towards the sound, he had to know what she was doing. His ivory paws hit the ground, coming off the log he had been resting on, and he picked up into a trot, following the sound. His white ears trained forward, curiosity evident in his posture as he approached the field where Artemis would be waiting. He would enter the field proudly, his young age not affecting his decision to enter the land. Crimson eyes would fixate on the white wench, as he approached her, where she waited apparently alone. A scathing look on his face, he glared at her, wondering what she was up too. Who was this other wolf she was summoning. "What do you think you're doing?" He'd inquire, a nasty tone to his voice. As he drew himself to a seating position with a disgruntled, humph. His eyes not straying far from his sister, expecting, no, demanding an answer to his question. OOC: Cerb is a dick. :_:

Code generated by Tintedglass Layout Generator

His skin crawled with thrill, muscles quivering with a barely containable ecstasy as the rolling demon would saunter towards her cry. Things had been quiet for far too long, but now? - tongue lashed at coral lips, ears tipped forwards as extended tail would sway with bliss - now, they were back. Healed, stronger, with greater numbers than they had had before and strength comparable to a Siege already won. Their dedication was notable, and though some fought to stray away from The Northern King, the majority remained loyal. Artemis had been given short time in Glaciem, and she been quiet, reserved almost. However she was Overseer for her relentless ability to destroyany foe that stood before her eye, and perhaps she was one of the few Isardis would remain cautious of. ?Winning,? he responded casually to the strange male who had joined the loose numbers, taking a seat upon his haunches and seeking Artemis? eye contact. No words need be said to fuel her, his presence and rosy gaze of fortitude would surely be enough.

Glaciem had remained quiet for far too long. The woman did not know what business they had with Valhalla any longer, but she would respond to the call of a challenge - it was her duty after all. What she got when she arrived, was not exactly what she had pictured. Of course - Isardis was there, reeking of his various women and the icy lands of the north. But the challenger, the little lady that had called her - was not yet an adult, and yet seemed to stand quite confidently. It took only a moment to know who her opponent was - she was the one with her defenses set, solid - good form, maybe even better than her own had been at that age.


"You do this for your King? In the end, should you win - you win nothing. My members will not stay with you, you get only a name which means nothing to you at all." She would take her family elsewhere and begin again, life was a constant chain of destruction and repiecing what remained. She doubted Valhalla in its entirety would follow her to the ends of the earth, but they certainly would not support this Glaciem babe. Yet if the little mistress wanted to test herself against Chrysanthe - and one of the quieter less developed packs did not suit her fancy, she would give her what she wanted. "What stops you from making a pack with a name of your own?" Did Glaciem simply need to create some sort of disturbance in Alacritia to be happy with themselves?


She did not expect the girl to speak for long, if at all - Glaciem was not known to her for being very good with their words. Their leader was more prone to spitting... And so even though her tones were neutral and her words chosen with no spite for the little lady she did not know - she would prepare for battle and let her defenses flow into place.


Her ears folded, eyes narrowed, and her jaws remained slightly agape. Her head lowered, aligned with her spine and her chin tucked to protect her throat. Her hackles raised along her neck and spine, her shoulders rolled to protect the sides of her neck, and her tail was raised behind her to balance her through the fight which was to come. Her legs were spread to evenly distribute her weight, her back legs squared and her toes dug into the ground while her nails dug into the ground for traction. Her joints were positioned for her to react to a moments movement from the other femme, her stomach tight beneath her as she stood in a defensive position while awaiting the girl's words. Her muzzle would crinkle ever so slightly as adrenaline began coursing through her - she knew this would be a fight, no matter how senseless a battle it would surely be. She would keep her opponent in her field of vision, and that would surely change the tide of this battle.


The other female had called for this fight, she would be the one to start it. But Chrysanthe would align herself quite a few meters away from the other, and facing the other girl's left side so that she could not try and surprise her by trying to move toward her blinded right side.




attacks: none

defenses: ears pinned, eyes narrowed, jaws agape, head lowered and aligned with spine, chin tucked, shoulders rolled, tail raised, weight evenly distributed, back legs squared, toes spread, nails digging into ground, muzzle crinkled, stomach tight, muscles prepared to spring, positioned Artemis within her field of vision

injuries: none

vs. Artemis for Valhalla

move zero of five

code by sam & image by lu

The call that screeched aloud by the glaciem overseer would drag S'alkrie away from her deep slumber. Even though it was not made for any of the members that reside in the kings pack The placid girl simply could not resist in what could be a new beginning. Ever so silent the girl would creep closer and closer to have a good enough view at the scene. But still, even with all the wolves beginning to enter S'alkrie would seclude herself within the side lines, away from being in the middle of the tension. What was going on? And why was it goining on? It was true to say she was far to young to understand; and yet she was keen to learn. With an excited sigh the girl would tuck herself away into the slight shadows, wondering what the Valhallan leader did wrong to be summoned.

image by Emily, Permission to use

Since leaving Valhalla to start a new in Amenti's empire meinx still seemed to stray close; listening to the news and events happening in Chrysanthe's pack. Even if they reside a long distace away the Giant woman would be forever determined- fighting for something that is rightfully hers. And even with Meinx's hard to please personality, deep down the girl knew she was proud of her aunt. She's been through a war and survived, spending very little time in moping about the loss of sight in one eye, she had to put her feelings aside when the glaciem empire saw fit to capture her husband, and now? She's fighting for everything she's worked so hard for. The call from an unknown woman would quickly catch the dark pearls attention, and as soon as the call was heard piercing the bitter air Meinx would quickly go of to see the turn out of events. There where a few at the scene, and there sure would be more coming. Her legs would smother across the floor, her eyes set upon Chrysanthe, it seemed as though the challenger had a lot of support, and Meinx was willing to give support to the queen; however little it may be. Standing a far enough distance away to be out of the soon to be battle Meinx would watch carefully, eager to see who the victor will be. Table by Lu image by Luisiana - Code for Ala Only

Odette was fuming, even if she didn't show it. She had been spending quality time with Chrysanthe, enjoying the conversation of possibly being taught how to spar, when the call had broken the tranquility. Like a bullet, Chrysanthe had risen from her place across the grass and answered the howl that was, apparently, a challenge for her throne. Odette didn't need to know any details. She had heard howls like that before and when they were for her pack, it sent chills down her spine. A brief bark was given to Sephiroth, who was busy sniffing out the valley a few feet away. She jerked her head in the direction of Chrysanthe's vanishing back and obediently followed her mother. By the time she had caught up, Chrysanthe was speaking to the she-wolf who had called. Her blood boiled beneath her skin, but she kept a cool front on her face and calmly approached the vacant side of the battlefield. Her fur was sent in ripples with every step she took, even if her pace had dwindled to a slow walk. Red and blue eyes remained guarded and unreadable, smooth face not showing a sign of emotion. It would make Gargoyle proud. Blood and guts from past fights reached her nose and she did her best not to let it wrinkle in disgust. Her eyes watered, but she blinked back the sharp twang of tears before seeing an unfamiliar female sitting by herself. She assumed she was here to support Chrysanthe, but even so, Odette didn't speak out of turn. Instead, she gave a quick nod to the female with vivid blue eyes, lowered herself to her haunches and turned her gaze to the fight that was about to commence. She kept an ear out for Sephiroth, hoping to hear his large frame bounding from the nearby wood. Odette wanted to be there for Chrysanthe, but fear of being outnumbered by the Glaciem supporters she didn't know was slowly walking around the edge of her thoughts. Talk like this

Drahshiel had been occupying the evening time with a lively game of catch-that-skink as sleep seemed to be eluding him. It was then a call rang out from the battlefield. It wasn't unusual to hear the serenade's of his kind echoing across the terra for blood but this one was familiar. Artemis? He didn't know the femme well at all but she was of Glaciem and the call was a challenge. Drashiel slipped out of his den brimming with curiosity when he saw S'alkrie taking off toward the call. "Hey S'alkrie wait for me!" He hoped they wouldn't get in too much trouble for this but judging by the fresh scent trail, Isardis was headed there as well. What on earth was going on. The youngling followed closely by his friend and came upon a group of wolves. Hackles and fur raised nervously at the scents of the strangers when it dawned upon him. Artemis was challenging for Valhalla? "What is she thinking?" he whispered. He knew Valhalla was their enemy but what was the purpose of this? A distraction? A challenge to shake their enemy? Or perhaps one to undo them completely? Drashiel gazed at the Valhallan wolves. Would they follow a Glaciem fae even if she won? Peridot gazed focused ultimately on Isardis. He trusted his father, certain the male had a plan.

The woman had heard the white wraith's call. It was out of the blue. Random. Odd. A challenge? Six had heard no rumors of Artemis calling a challenge. It was a risky move but the behemoth admired the pristine bitches bold move. Artemis reminded Six much of herself. Though, she was not the one challenging for a pack. The black and white girl would slither from her den to make an appearance at this challenge. The woman wanted to make herself known to their enemies. The bitch hoped Artemis would win, but Six would support the white lady no matter what. Six would prowl across the blood stained battlefield with that legendary smirk. Her violet orbs flicked around in a rush of excitement. There were an amount of scents from two packs. Isardis and some pups.. Artemis. Then a few unknown. The bitch slithered faster and closer to the scene as she watched the two packs mix. Artemis and the other bitch stood face to face. The Queen with the russet ears let forth annoying tones. Six listened as the other woman was trying to persuade Artemis out of the challenge. There was much more glory within taking a pack by force then creating your own. It was a rush of power. It made yourself worthy of being a leader. The black and white behemoth sneered as she sat down at a good distance away. "Good luck, darling Artemis." Six smirked lightly as she looked to Isardis for a moment then back to the white lady and the opposing bitch.

The Queen fell in line behind her King, following at a wide distance. She knew of the plans for today, and while she wasn't sure they were appropriate she would not argue against them. Sendoa would come up behind Six, slipping forward alongside her with a slight smile. Jowls would seek to roam quit near to the darkened woman's ear, hoping that she alone would hear the following phrase. ?I never got to thank you for saving my son's life,? she would pause, her voice nearly breaking as emotion welled in her chest. ?I don't know what I would have done had...? she paused again, tail flicking idly. ?had things gone differently.? She would pull her muzzle away an inch or two, ?I am indebted to you, Six.? And she would not soon forget it. Sendoa Armada was anything but unfaithful, and Six had very quickly moved to her trusted list. Cranium would shift to a more comfortable distance as she rocked onto her haunches beside the woman. Isardis had enough to deal with without her hovering at his side - no matter how much she wanted to wrap herself in his warmth. Eyes would set upon Artemis, an ear twitched toward Six in case she had responding remarks. ?speech,?

Surreal

The song of a challenge sent a low rumble through the young Beta?s throat, her head lifting from a scent at the borders. Would this problem with Glaciem ever bloody end? Swiftly, Surreal let out a bark to Battlesong, turning on one paw and heading for the Battle Field at a long trot. The hawk soared above, far out of sight of others, drifting in lazy circles that never the less kept her nearby. As Surreal arrived, her defenses fell into place, ready for any low blowing that might come her way, mismatched eyes flicking to count the crows that had come to the fight. She came to rest beside Meinx, noting how much the pup had grown. Nearly a year old already, or thereabouts. Her eyes fell upon Chrysanthe and the challenger. Her ears flicked back, listening for more Valhallans, as she knew they would come.

Erani

Erani had heard the call during one of her walks through the old territory with Cormalin, chatting amiably about the past, and what was in the future. As one, the brother and sister had turned, shoulder to shoulder. ?More trouble from those bastards. Delightful.? The comment was made with an acid note, and Erani had started off at a long trot, her brother a step behind. When they arrived, Erani fell into place beside Surreal, deep blue pools frozen as they swept over the gathered wolves. Beyond the frozen rage in her eyes, her demeanor was reserved and calm. She tilted her head to drop a nuzzle on Surreal?s shoulder, while she felt Cormalin come to stand beside her, his defenses in place. Her own defenses were placed, paws balanced and squared, though for all the world, she looked off balance. Un prepared. She was ever watchful, though her eyes were on the fight.

Cormalin

Cormalin had followed his sister to the field, absently wishing that his return to the eyes of his family and pack could have been at a more peaceful time, but when duty called, you went to the call. His sister?s predatory glide as she moved toward the field spoke volumes of how pissed she was getting. He was pleased to see Surreal already there, and less pleased to see the fighting already begun. Falling into place beside his sister, he settled into a ready stance, paws placed in a balanced set, head lowered level with his shoulders, his chin tucking to cover his throat. Eyes flicked about, noting enemies and allies before narrowing as his ears folded backward, hackles lifting to add padding. The old warrior was ready.

Alsander Grey

Alsander had been daydreaming as he was ambling through the territory, following a deer trail through the tall grass. Io was on his mind quite often, and while he didn?t allow the thoughts to interfere with his duties, he had no problem with letting his mind wander when he was at rest. The challenge howl jarred him free of wistful thoughts, and his eyes narrowed, gold and green gaze hardening. He turned, taking off at a long lope, though pacing himself to keep his stamina running. He sent up a howl to Valhalla before his paws crossed the border, a call to arms, in case of a further battle than just a challenge. Then he was off the territory, heading toward the Battlefield. As he arrived, he dropped into a low trot, coming to stop on his father?s other side, feeling a thrill of pleasure that his father was back, and strong. His aunt was there, Surreal, one of Syrinx? children; my hadn?t they grown since the last time? He took stock of the opposing wolves, his body falling into the defenses. The fight was already underway, and he watched with one eye, hoping his cousin would win out. Even if she lost, he was unworried. They would follow her anywhere. Who needed a pack name? They could make a new one.

Sarak

Sarak stretched, tongue swiping his jaws for the last remaining trace of the piglet he?d picked off from a whole herd of them on the island. The sow had given up after he?d crossed the ocean, turning back to her brood while Sarak padded off with his catch. He?d had yet to meet Azalea?s children, but that would change soon. It needed to. He was happier than he?d ever been. He had a mate, and he intended to be a fine father to her children, no matter that their father was an enemy. However, he would have to put happiness aside, as a call rang out from the Tall Grass Plains. Alsander, calling the pack. An arms call. He?d been to busy avoiding a rampaging, furious mother pig to hear the previous howl, the challenge to Chrysanthe. The muddy brown male considered his options. Despite having run over half the island, and swum the sea to avoid said pig, he was refreshed after his snack of piglet. He was uninjured, strong, and in better condition than he?d been in all his life, sleek as a well fed jaguar. He took off at a gallop, knowing his stamina, and that he wouldn?t be out of breath upon his arrival to whatever was in store on the battle field. When he arrived, there was only one fight. Chrysanthe, and a white female he?d seen at the siege. Emerald eyes narrowed as he noted the other Glaciem wolves. Oh they did love a show, didn?t they. He fell into a relaxed, easy stance, balanced and ready to move. It hadn?t rained much since the big storm, and dust would rise easily. He would use that dust to his advantage should further fighting break out. For now, he waited, noting that Cormalin had returned, either escaping, or released. Emerald eyes turned to the fight, confident in his leader, no matter the outcome of the fight.

Obsidian

Strong horse teeth cropped the lush spring grass, strong molars chewing energetically as the large black mare ambled along in the bowl of Emerald Valley. Elk meandered nearby, sharing her intent interest in the green grass. A howl, however, made her head jerk up, some of the elk following suit, all gazing toward the Battle field. Black ears flattened to her poll, before Obsidian took off at a gallop, scattering elk. She climbed the path that led out of the valley in what felt like five strides, flinty hooves digging into the soil, propelling her up and up and up. As she crested the hill, her haunches gathered, new scars from the cat she?d been pounced by at the battle rippling. Hind hooves pushed off as the horse charged toward the scene, then slowed to a hand canter, one that would allow her to fight longer if she needed to. When Obsidian arrived, she held back at the shadows, taking stock, looking for any surprise cats, before she made her way to the group, larger than any wolf there. Nearly all the Glaciem wolves that were there had been at the battle. Her tail lashed side to side, out of reach of any wolf mouths, as she stood behind the wall of wolf fur that was the family she?d taken up with. Cormalin was back! Her blue eyes lingered on the old wolf a moment, before turning to the fight.

He should've known that Valhalla's peace would only last for so long. There was just no way that one of the largest and oldest packs in Alacritis could be left alone. What quarrel's were there with Valhalla? His pack was peaceful, neutral even. They didn't bother anyone, persecute anyone. Instead they took those looking for a home in, cared for them, treated them like family. But that didn't seem to matter because Glaciem was back at it again; only this time it wasn't the Pale king. The challenger's voice was different, much more feminine in tone. One of the king's little servants perhaps? A pawn that he had put in place to do his dirty work for him? Gael was frankly tired of having his pack harassed. They had moved to the island to be left alone and still, trouble plagued them. There had to be a way to bring this an end soon. The Heir would gladly make the swim across the water back to the mainland, not caring that he was thoroughly soaked and water logged. He would push onwards, moving towards the battlefield, determined to be his aunt's side as she fought for their family yet again. He was sure that Glaciem would bring in reinforcements and Valhalla would not lag in that aspect either. He would arrive just in time before the fight got to a start, seeing his cousin Odette and several healers and warriors coming to stand beside Chrysanthe. A glance would be spared towards the enemy, lips curling back in a disgusted snarl, the sound rumbling loudly in his pipes as he came up beside Chrysanthe, nudging her shoulder gently while keeping his eyes on Glaciem. You got this. he would murmur gently to her, loud enough so that only she could hear. Hopefully that would give her just a little more confidence. Gael would promptly move away, moving towards Odette, coming to stand beside the girl. He would bump her gently in greeting but keep his attention focused on the wolves standing at a distance from them. Even if Chrysanthe lost, not a single Valhallan would stay behind to serve beneath the white child. Talk like this

Vahva would not have known something like this to happen. Her family she had just rejoined, and now it was about to be taken away from her. The usually calm and collective female came to the call with her hackles raised and bristling. She could see the others already gathered, and there was a woman, and the ice king there already. She held down her anger, but her red eyes showed the obvious furious signs. Her temper had risen, the odd temper she had been born with was raising. As a deep growl grew in the deep of her throat. "What the fuck are you doing?" He question obviously centered towards the other side. Her eyes glaring at Isardis. "Was injuring every fuckin wolf in my family not enough for you. Winning a war that was only something a fool would commence in. Honestly how much of a dick can you be. Eventually this will all come back to you, and you won't just rot in the ground. You'll burn in a place that is worse than hell you bastard." Her tail raised. As her attention turned to Artemis. "Not that I think you'll win, but if you do, guarantee that you will get a scar from me. I will gladly fucking take back this pack for my friends and family. I just got them back, I won't let the world turn its back on me twice." Her teeth snapped as she suddenly noticed that she had lost her temper. The woman's hackles went down, her eyes closed as she backed away and gave in a deep breath. Oh how she had probably dug her own grave now. Her eyes went to the others wondering what they'd think. Probably more trouble for Valhalla anyway. She tucked her tail between her legs promptly slightly afraid. But then raised it again, her calm self seeming to return as she moved back farther. Away from the rest, she sat away. And her eyes locked on her alphess. She was furious, Chrysanthe, you better fucking win she thought in her head. Speech,

He had been minding his own business, straying near the Alphess' adopted daughter Odette, when something felt off. The child had gotten his attention, and swiftly he followed her in silence. A prickling feeling made his fur stand on end, but it soon lied flat. The call commanded the summons of his Alphess, and he was sure Valhalla would arrive as a whole. He arrived slowly but surely, his broken foreleg still healing but it would not be long until it was healed nicely and usable without complications. The Beta arrived on scene in time to see the Glaciem bastards. And of course, many of his own pack. Head turned towards the Digamma he came to know as Vahva, hearing her words spewed like a fool. Ears flattened, eyes narrowed. That was not the way a Valhallan would act, it put them to shame. Standing near Odette and the heir, he snapped at the Digamma. "Vahva! Quell your tongue! That is not the way of a Valhallan! You should be ashamed of yourself for acting in such a manner." He bristled, deeply ashamed that someone like that would respond in such a manner. He thought her better then that, but perhaps her actions had proved that wrong. He would say nothing more to her, he would deal with such actions later, as right now his attention would be focused elsewhere now. Aquamarine eyes gazed upon the challenger, and it was one he remembered vaguely from the war. So, the king's pawn had come to do his dirty work? They had won the war, taken the woman who he wanted, and yet it appeared they weren't done. Such fools, blinded by pride and foolish actions. They were a pack that would create their own downfall. And even if this little girl won, none of Valhalla would remain. They would move on as a family and start anew. Of that he was sure. Valhalla was just a name. And they would remain together and protect each other no matter what. That went for every member. He sensed some uneasy feelings coming from the young Odette, and briefly he leaned down to nose her ear as he seated himself to watch in silence.

Now, they were all more than easy to ignore; his attentions so fixated, so focused upon his silver siren in all her youthful glory. But the blue maned woman was digging herself a grave, and though he could do no more than chuckle with twisted pleasure at her spitting insults, she had still managed to frustrate him. He would rise from his haunches and gaze upon her crimson eyes, smirk wound tight against supple lips, he would cackle continuously, more amused by every utterance that she strut. It was all fun and games; that was until she mentioned false hope of giving Artemis a ?scar?. A foul snarl would pull pale lips upwards into a vicious show of his polished ivories, ?I will destroy every inch of your already dwindling physical normality before you lay a filthy blade against my Overseer, wench,? spittle formed against his cherry lips like a rabid dog, coral ears pulled against his scalp as he readied himself to deal the woman her lesson. Defences solidified; stance squared, weight evenly disseminated, knees bent, chest lowered, toes splayed, claws biting into the rocky soil, tail swayed level with an aligned spine, hackles raised, shoulders rolled, head lowered to ally with his shoulders, neck scrunched, chin tucked, jaws agape, eyes narrowed and ears pinned against tapered skull. Muscles remained tense in groundwork, however supple to allow his vigorous movements. With accentuated effort Isardis would push forwards from the power coiled beneath broad thighs, attempting to approach the strange woman from head-on (slightly to her left), his left shoulder blade jutted in an effort to try and collide its surface with the tender regions of her leftwards oesophagus just above the tapers of her chest (and at the base of her throat). He wanted to throw his weight into the potential crushing force of his superiority, jaws simultaneously aiming to glide to his left, hungry and hoping to latch onto the lower left regions of her side-neck. She had made a mistake, and he would not simply stand around while she threatened his people. A last attempt was made, his right forepaw seeking to slide in beneath the left side of her left forelimb; his own appendage kept straight as he would attempt to knock the joint of his right ankle against her left cephalic vein, attempting to drag his right limb back to his own right, striving to carry her own limb with it before he would hastily strive to slam his weight back down against the once-lifted paw, once again striving to equalize his weight. Isardis vs. Vahva - Round 1 of 2? For Permanent Scarring.