Bulls In The Bronx [Raid]

He had to admit, he was excited. The past few days, he had been floating on happiness during his patrols. He knew, after two litters from his mother, what the change in Solveiga’s scent after that glorious night in the Plains meant. He was going to be a father. And she a mother. Come summer, their first litter, one of them his heir, would be born. Gods, what would they look like?

It was a pleasant night, and he was making his way to patrol the borders in the Moor. It was when he was almost there that the wind shifted, and he caught the scent of not one, but multiple pack wolves. The certainty that hit him mingled with the beginnings of that icy feeling slipping through his veins. This wasn’t some wolf crossing the border by accident, and he wasn’t going to give them a chance to leave.

Not when one of them carried the distinct scent of a leader. Marina’s howl split the air, and he nodded to himself, coldly pleased as he turned to lope toward the call, moving economically to conserve energy. He threw up his own howl, and in it, there was a message for his pack. If they didn’t get their tails in here and help defend the pack’s borders, they would be sent to find a new home. It was a call for all able-bodied wolves that could fight, and it was a command. He had warned them at the meeting that lax behavior when a call announcing intruders wasn’t met with quick attendance would not be tolerated. He only hoped they would remember that warning. It almost coincided with his brother’s howl.

He arrived on the scene, in time for Justice’s roar of fury, noting with a mental nod that several of Celestial’s members had already arrived, and he was pleased, but didn’t allow it to shatter that chilling fury in his chest, as he slid out of the drizzling mist, snapping out a firm, “Marina, for your quick action, you are promoted to Legionary. Don’t bother with warnings—they aren’t here by accident. Domari, Justice, everyone, well done on your quick action. Castiel, I’m promoting you to Legionary. Gwenevere, the same. Brother, Legionary as well. Acapella, you are released from Punished.”

For Domari, he would have to wait to deal out any promotion, and he hoped the boy would understand. Had he only been a Legionary, his promotion would be dealt swiftly on the spot to a higher rank come the end of the skirmish. But he also had the boy’s healing experience to consider. With Justice, the same situation kept him from promoting her to becoming a Paladin, though once her training continued, she'd be well and swiftly on her way to that rank.

His eyes flicked to the other leader, and a silky smile crossed his jaws as he recognized the earthy tones and bright green eyes. “Is that young Dragon, trespassing again? And this time knowingly. I let you off lightly last time because you were a child who had not yet been taught about respecting borders. This time, you won’t get that kindness. You don’t have the excuse of not knowing better. And how touching. You’ve come to steal from your own family. Didn’t Justice here tell you? Creed was murdered. Your cousin. And here your pack comes in a time of grief. You could have just asked. We would have given freely. But this… thieving. Wrong move.” His tone was light, even conversational, but the chill in his eyes was unmistakable, even if his expression was practically friendly.

He didn’t wait for a response from the other leader, launching himself forward without preamble or pause—in fact, it almost sounded like he was going to speak on. He’d pressed ahead of the others of his pack save for Castiel, trusting Marina’s ability to defend herself from the near rabid attack of one of Talis’ wolves, or that one of the others would join to give her support, gaze unwavering as he’d spoken, seeking to pause at a distance of about five feet, and now he sought to close the rest of that distance hard and fast, defenses leveling into place as he went with seasoned ease an efficiency.

His tail swept level with his spine as his head lowered to align with shoulders that slid forward to guard his neck. His hackles had already lifted to their full height, bristling down his back from the base of his skull to the top of his tail. His chin tucked briefly as a guard to his throat, jaws parting as his eyes narrowed to protective slits in a face that had wrinkled into a silent snarl.

His balance was set to land squared on all four legs, elbows and hocks bent to loosen his movement, while his toes spread apart for further balance and traction, his claws gripping at the mossy ground to aid in the goal. His aim wasn’t to drive himself into his opponent as he usually might.

Instead, his jaws parted further as his head tipped sharply to his own right, and he lunged with those jaws, twisting slightly downward for Dragon’s face, upper canines seeking a precise, puncturing hold in Dragon’s left eye, while his lower canines sought similar placement in Dragon’s right eye. Simultaneously, he threw his weight into the last push of his haunches, seeking to slam his whole chest into the front of Dragon’s chest, wishing to drive him back and blast the breath from his lungs with the collision.

His weight canted back into his hind legs, hocks bending slightly to take the shift and maintain balance, tail acting as a balancing rudder, as his forelegs both snapped up to seek a firm hug around the other alpha’s neck – right foreleg aiming to land on the base of the left side of Dragon’s neck, his left foreleg seeking a similar placement on the right side of Dragon’s neck, at the base - striving to obtain a tight hold that would be difficult to shake loose.

He hadn’t missed the big cat’s scent that was present, tightly mingled with Dragon’s own, and kept his awareness open, ready to move quickly if it joined the fray.

He wasn’t just acting as a furious leader protecting his pack. He didn’t precisely know what this fool and his cronies had come in hopes of taking. He doubted it was a real siege – he’d noted that the majority of the others with Dragon hadn’t attacked immediately, save for the black and white one – but this was, to him, an act of unforgivable hostility against his pack and family, and retribution would be swift in coming. Talis had made a grave error in starting trouble with Celestial.

But no, he was also acting with the protective rage of a father-to-be. What threatened the resources also threatened Solveiga and their unborn children in her womb, and he would kill if it meant they’d be safe. None of the full force of that anger showed in his face, and he kept himself calm mentally, using that chill to keep his mind clear, calculating his moves, not allowing adrenaline to overtake him. He wanted this opponent down fast, with the hope that it would scatter the rest of the enemy.

Height: 42"

Build: Heavy

Extra Notes: Distance agreed upon by Dragon. (Justice/Tea, forgive meee, but I already had this thing almost finished and I can't get my brain to work to try again with something else. xD)