crusade

The caverns' dark history became increasingly apparent the further the pair moved, each mark and scar on the walls providing even more evidence to the suffering that had occurred here. The gentle, reassuring presence Vanta had tried to provide was slowly fading the deeper they travelled, replaced by an intensity as glacial as the markings upon her fur.

The hidden entrance Lia had discovered revealed a narrow passage, one that lead them into the furthest depths of the cave. The air grew heavier, the shadows deeper. Vanta pushed forward with confidence - ever comfortable in the dark, after a childhood restricted to caverns just like these - her every sense alert to the potential dangers that lay ahead. Her tail flagged high, her perked ears twitching to catch the softest sound. A predator on the hunt, imbued with the ferocity of her well-known bloodline.

Motioning for Lia to stay close, the two came to the passage's end and emerged into an expansive, dimly lit chamber. The air in the chamber grew tense, a palpable sense of danger enveloping the space as they were brought face to face with three massive males.

The scene they came upon seemed ripped from a nightmare; within the dimly lit space, rugged slavers loomed over a cluster of wolves. Emaciated, matted, hollow wolves. One of the men - a large brute with a recently scarred snout - raised his paw as Vanta moved to get a closer look, striking the smallest slave across the face, sending them crumpling to the ground with a whimper.

"Enough!" Vanta's voice boomed through the cavern, the echo of her snarl rising above even that of the heavy blow.

"Well, what do we have here? Lost little lambs?" The male taunted, his voice dripping with menace. His underlings, taken aback by the women's sudden appearance, gave a moments hesitance. The fear alight in their eyes spoke volumes: this was not their first encounter with a revenge-driven warrior. Already they were considering their escape.

Vanta wasted no time, her transformation complete. Gone was the reassuring, gentle wolf Lia had come to know and the soft Fatalis princess her father had raised. Her stature grew, not in size but in presence, her righteous fury overtaking every fiber of her being. In a flash of movement, the crusader lunged forward, crystalline sabers flashing dangerously as she bore down on the leader.

The chamber erupted into chaos, but Vanta - caught in a whirlwind of righteous fury - gave everything else little notice. Lia could handle herself, and more then that, Vanta had sworn to let her.

The leader found himself pinned under Vanta before he could react, his limbs flailing helplessly against her imposing frame. Her movements were deliberate and precise, a brutal dance of controlled fury. As the offending paw - the one that had struck the slave - came within her reach, Vanta seized its wrist in her jaws. The slaver's screams filled the air, but Vanta was undeterred, her focus unbreakable. She repositioned herself for better leverage, her crystalline-tipped toes finding secure placement on his chest. She bit and pulled, bit and pulled; the crunch of bones yielding under her relentless grip only driving her on until finally, the weakened joint gave way, severed.

The slaver's scream intensified as his limb came away and Vanta took quick advantage of those jaws pried so very wide. With a ruthless movement, she released the severed limb, letting it fall into the gaping maw of the slaver. With one paw she forced it deeper - pushing past the desperate clamping of his teeth upon her arm - while the free limb moved to cover his nostrils, ensuring he could neither breathe nor expel the obstruction.

Vanta's crystalline eyes were cold, devoid of mercy as she watched the slaver's struggle, suffocating beneath her, choking on his own blood and claws.[i] "Not lost lambs." She whispered as he died. "Shepherds. And you - " She paused. " - are a wolf who's being preying on the flock for far too long."

"Speech"