as we collide

*Azalea* · 09-10-2013, 09:09 PM

It seemed to Azalea that she was surrounded by fighting wolves. Tooth and claw meeting as the wolves went to war. She could never have predicted such blood loss when she had left Valhalla earlier in the day, anticipating a quick battle over Liberty in which her pack mates returned home in one piece. Here they stood, bodies strewn around the field and Isardis seemingly forgotten where he fell. Chrysanthe was right to haze the Glaciem wolves, not a one coming forward to even ask their King if he was alright.

Would they just let him lie there and bleed out? What the hell kind of loyalty was that? They all seemed pumped up for more fighting but clearly not a single one was a healer or of healer blood or else they would be on the ground by their fallen lord trying to save him from a pathetic death in the dirt.

The young lass found her senses barraged, freezing up to try and take it all in. Isardis looked like a painting that should be hung in a gallery, a vision of white and red. Argent and Gideon were deep in battle and before Azalea stood her own emissary. Green eyes stood out of a black face and Azalea considered the wolf before her. ?This is your one chance, so choose wisely. You gamble with your freedom.? Her ears pulled back but Azalea found herself at a loss for words. She could not tell if she was frightened or offended. The realization had sunk in that she was being thrown into battle, a real battle.

She was out of practice, if she had ever truly been in practice. Unseasoned and not even a proper adult. The Glaciem wolf bid Chrysanthe to reconsider this decision and yet she prepared herself for a fight rather than standing down. Azalea's lips drew back, ears withdrawing once more and her tail going up in a confident banner-like position. She moved forward, amber eyes assessing the larger female as her body worked into the right positioning. Lowering her center by giving more space to the placement of her paws, this also adding more balance. The Valhallan Heir was ready to fight for her pack now, her mind jumping ahead to plan her attack.

Clearly an attack to the neck was not an option, it was the most well guarded, as was Azalea's now as she lowered her dome and nose tipped down to let loose an ugly snarl. She would aim for the upper arm region, right above the start of the leg near the front of the shoulder. It was there that she would strike first knowing the way the skin could pull forward there and the deltoid that hid below. Attack there and she could not only rip into muscle but also cause one hell of a gaping wound.

"Oh, you are of rank in Glaciem? Then let's make this a fair fight." Suddenly Chrysanthe was there, setting herself in place of Azalea. Her head shot up, body language indignant, "What?!" Her tone was shrill. Azalea snarled in frustration, snapping her jaws. Chrysanthe was her superior though, she had no right to fight her, so Azalea stood down. She let her tail fall, stepping back to let her aunt rise to the challenge. "Good fight, and fight good," She whispered to her aunt, hoping to catch her eye to show the confidence she held in her.

If anyone could bring them home safely it was Chrysanthe.

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