Where are you gonna go when I'm gone?
08-27-2013, 06:37 PM
(This post was last modified: 08-27-2013, 06:41 PM by Epiphron.)
Basilisk Saxe was barely a yearling, though seemed a bit older due to how large he had already grown to be. Unlike his mother, who seemed condemned to a life that would forever be chaotic, he felt as though he had more control of his fate. And yet he was terribly corruptible, unable to. He recognized this in himself, and though he found himself occasionally struggling against his most carnal urges, often he tended to embrace the darkness that seemed embedded in his very soul. He was different than most wolves -- he'd seen things that many wolves could hardly even imagine. He'd watched his own father die before his eyes, watched life itself be violently drained from him, only to pool on the ground in a viscous puddle of dark red blood. He'd been born into such a life, and it felt like it was something he could never escape, no matter how hard he fought against it. Some days, like today, it simply wasn't worth fighting. He had reached forward, desperate for the possibility of a brief embrace. Even the devil himself, Kaios, had possessed at least an ounce of compassion for his mother; perhaps this woman was similar. Amidst the pain and the torment, still he craved some kind of warmth, however sinister it might be. He'd seen the possibility of finding solace in Aegira, the innocent young girl he'd met in the caves... in whatever form that it might take. He wasn't sure what this woman would give him, but all he knew was that he needed something, something he couldn't place his paw on. Pain did not soothe him; blood did not quench the thirst. The woman smiled wickedly, and any semblance of emotion fell suddenly off his features. 'With pleasure my dear,' she murmured, and then she struck him immediately after. Her jaws parted, and he saw a flash of pearly white fangs as she pounced, looping her left forelimb up and around his neck, aiming to push him to his side and snag his neck. He hadn't been particularly startled by the movement, but he also hadn't been balanced property; her momentum sent him stumbling backwards, his neck twisting down and to the ground. A white hot pain was sent through his neck as her paw collided with him, his head twisting abruptly. Yet he resisted with all his might, arching his back to try to maintain balance, spreading his paws and trying to keep his weight spread on all four paws. Everything in his life, including this moment, seemed so terribly disappointing. Unrewarding. He'd seen his mother writhe with pleasure at his father's violence; he'd seen him draw blood, had seen how close it brought them. This was no different; as he jaws collided with the left side of his neck, he let out a dangerous snarl, beginning as a deep roar within his chest and finally erupting loudly from his lips. 'You're gonna be mine,' she declared. As he moved to pull from her grasp, knowing very well the action might tear flesh, it felt as though time frozen. He remembered his practice spar with Cross, and how bad of a move it had been to pull away from his opponent so brashly. A fight for dominance this was, though, not a mock fight between yearlings. He saw the way she looked at him, with hunger in her eyes, a hunger he felt himself grow in his heart as he felt her fangs began to sink into his neck. He could not belong to her, no ... regret was not something he felt often, but suddenly he wondered if he should've stayed away from this island after all. He'd tested his luck, knowing very well it might lead him straight into the open mouth of danger. He wondered, maybe, if it was somewhere he wanted to be led. He would not go down -- he was determined to keep fighting, despite the outcome of the fight. Again he snarled, bracing himself against the woman's attacking jaws. Basilisk had learned something from Cross. No, multiple things, but a few in particular relating to sparring. A sharp jerk of his neck to the left would be his rebuttal, aiming to push into the attack. Perhaps she would stumble, or relinquish her hold on him. Either would be a great option right about now. "Doesn't seem I'm the only one with mommy and daddy issues.." Basilisk snarled through gritted teeth. Writhing his body to the left, he pushed further into her clamped jaws, knowing very well if he jerked away that flesh would be torn. It was all he could do to push his head back, hoping somehow that might continue to protect the sensitive flesh there, though he already could feel warm blood begin to trickle down, mingling with his dark fur and making his whole neck feel warm and tender. His own jaws began to snap as their moved in a sort of circle, aiming for teeth to snag her side as her leg pushed him further down. All he could do now was pray he did not fall, and that somehow he grabbed hold of the scruff on her side and cause even the slightest distraction. ROUND 1 / 3 - for dominance Attacks: Aiming to either push into the attack and hope she relinquishes her hold or stumbles; also aiming to grab hold of her left side Defenses: Back arched, paws spread wide & weight evenly distributed, scrunching his neck as she grabs it to make it harder to hold on to. Injuries: Serious bite to the left side of his neck, potentially a torn/sore muscle in his neck as she wraps her limb around him and twists his neck around. |
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