The Art of Murder [Cifer]
03-10-2013, 03:16 AM
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Wraith watched as the owl took off into the air a sour frown pulling down for his maw. Damn. He would not be leaving his hidey hole until this battle was over... not that their was any leverage he could use in this battle, not that he wanted too. It had been awhile since a challenge had presented itself to her and Wraith was eager to see her in battle. Banshee was an incredibly wicked opponent for a variety of reasons. One, the most obvious, her massive, muscular size she was a monster. Two, her inability to feel fear. Three, her lack of planning or strategy, an attack was issued and she responded, her movements were unpredictable, and last but most assuredly not least, her lack of self preservation. She didn't care if chunks of her flesh were torn away, pain was nothing to her, Wraith wondered if she even felt such things or if that toxin had taken the feeling in her nerves right along with her soul. It was hard to fight something and be victorious, if killing it meant your own death in the process.
His voice spoke one last time, and he remained stoic, unreadable. Impressive. Most would have given into rage or anger, Wraith could give her credit for that and then he was propelling forward, thick and heavy paws mimicking the sound of thundering horses as they flew across the terrain. His thick musculature rippling as he moved. Wraith squirmed in his excitement.
Banshee watched. Hollow orbs displaying nothing despite the grin across her maw. She spoke no more. Words were useless things, unworthy to leave her lips. He wasted no more time, propelling his massive body towards her and Banshee widened her stance. Soulless orbs trained upon his pelt, he swooped to one side and then the other, aiming most obviously for her ribs, she turned just enough to avoid the potential, fatal blow. She wanted to feel his teeth, wanted to taste his rage, suppressed or no, it was such anger that had brough him back to her. His teeth sunk into the cords of her shoulder, but that left the base of his neck wide open for her wicked teeth. Her jaws splayed wide and clamped down, aiming for that sensitive juncture.
Attacks: With Cifers teeth in her shoulder, her own are aiming for that soft spot where neck meets shoulder.
Defense: She shifted her stance so he avoids her ribs and sinks into her shoulder
Injury: Puncture wounds to the shoulder.
Speech,
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