Against Your Walls Against Your Rules Against Your Skin

Before he dared make the first move, the fool made the mistake of speaking. “Filth has no claim to land owned by a pack.” he spat, like the blue blooded trash that he was. A snarl tore itself from her throat, only goading her into hurting him in earnest. "I'll show you filth, boy king." She bellowed, fangs flashing in the moonlight. He was going to bleed for that comment. Her blood boiled in her veins, tension building in the space between her heart and her lungs. It was time to rend his flesh from his bones, and make him suffer.

As he pushed off from the ground, readying to close the five feet of distance between them, she made to mentally check her defenses again. Shoulders rolled forward to disperse fat and fur over her neck. Hackles up and bristling. Ears flat against her skull, sealing the delicate canals from attack. Eyes narrowed to slits, exacerbated by the way her lips pulled away from her teeth in a snarl like a bowie knife. She kept her feet firmly planted, legs squared and joints bent as she waited him out. She flexed her broad paws deep into the soil, claws gripping the bloodstained earth. She kept her chin and tail tucked tightly.

He closed the distance quickly, sailing into the air with his forepaws outstretched. If she had to take a guess, his goal was to slam those broad paws of his into her shoulders. That was going to hurt like a motherfucker. His chin was still tucked tight to his chest, jaws splayed in hopes of... what exactly? Was he hoping she would just toss a body part in there for him? A growl reverberated in her chest. Well, now was as good a time as any to try out something new and weird. A quick side step to her right, only carrying her over a few inches. The muscles of her hind legs bunched, and she aimed to leap up to meet him. A mockery of a tender embrace. Stretching her own forelimbs out, she found herself on the recieving end of those fangs as her chest aimed to meet with his own. His canines bit into her flesh, a few inches above the very middle of her chest. Her forelimbs found an awkward spot, the right slotting into the space around his ribs, her elbow beneath his. The left forelimb bent at the wrist, aiming to press against the underside of his chest.

With any hope, the force of it would flip the boy king over as he moved through the air. Put him in the dirt, like the filth he claimed to be above. Her momentum would work to shove him out of his path, and push him to land on his own right side. With the puncture wounds to her chest only made worse by the jostling, she could see herself heading straight to one of the pale woman's kids for help later. The brute force of their collision would cause bruises to blossom across her chest and shoulders soon enough, and knocked the wind clean out of her. As they collided, the bitch sought to snap the top half of his open muzzle between her jaws, and clamp down. Just to ruin the boy king's regal features. Once he was on his way to the ground, she would let go if she was still holding on. It put her in a vulnerable position, sure, but she wasn't afraid of scars. Wasn't afraid to lose parts of her. She'd already lost her soul, after all.

Sathanus vs. Tyranis

for: Tyranis' Dommiel Rank Promotion

round: I | II | III

height: 33" build: medium

WAR CHILD

walk "Talk" think