Sick. Rivin feels sick. Sick with worry that the next time she blacked out, the injuries someone sustained would be one of the Raiders. That she might have the body of one of her comrades at her paws. It has her shaking, her eyes wide and teary. As much as she loved fighting, and drawing blood, the idea of killing someone she cared for was still enough to make her stomach churn. Not the Raiders. That is what makes her feel overwhelmed. Feel weak. She already knows this other thing inside of her has taken over. That she has the desire to kill. That she would hurt those she cares for. How does she fight her? How does she prevent it from happening? Her breath catches in her throat, flinching at Gil’s command to get up. Her limbs shake more violently as she rises. She is overwhelmed, afraid… She is sick. Sick mentally and physically… how could he continue to trust her not to hurt their own? Rivin is afraid he will turn her away from the Raiders… just when she started to feel more at peace with her life and the path she has taken.
She lifts her gaze to Gil, the fear, the uncertainty, all of that raging within her eyes. Another whine leaves her. “I don’t want to hurt anyone here.” She tells him. You won’t have a choice. She growls, squeezing her eyes closed. “I’m not going to let you hurt my packmates!” Her voice, raw with emotion, escalates once more. But laughter sounds within her head once more. ‘You’re not strong enough to stop me, girl. You’d better hope your dear Raid King is.’ Rivin growls again, shaking her head back and forth as if to dislodge the voice in it. Rivin doesn’t even notice Gil approaching in a battle ready manner. She can feel herself slipping… falling…
…and then her form became still. There was no more trembling, no more whimpers. A couple breaths and her head came up, the look of her gaze different. Cold. The femme straightened herself, and even when she spoke, her tone had shifted. Deeper, amused, like a cat that has just cornered a mouse. “It's rather cute you think you can stop me. This is the true path for this weakling. I’ll whip her into shape, less she be culled in the name of Apollyon.” The corners of her mouth twist up into a wicked grin. “Although you’ve made it harder for me, giving her the go ahead to play with those damn plants. Gilgamesh, is it? Taking you down will be the first ste–” Her voice abruptly stops. Her brow furrows and the woman clucks her tongue.
“Hmph. Seems she cares for you all a great deal. She’s still fighting.” A small complication. “No matter. Perhaps when I, Caedes, remove a chunk of your flesh, she’ll be more obedient.” The beast lunges, a snarl given as she dips her head to point those antlers down as she moves head on at Gil with the intent of catching him between them. There is no tactical thought, only brute strength that the femme is relying upon.
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Rivin Caedes vs Gilgamesh for maim (Chest Scarring)
Round 1/?
Age: Over 1 Year
Size: Dire wolf
Build: Heavy
Offensive Battle Accessory: Serrated Dagger
Defensive Battle Accessory: Leather leg wraps
Companion 1: Wolverine, Male - Battle
Companion 2: Bobcat, Male - Battle
Mutation 1: Deer Antlers - Offensive
Skills: Advanced Healer & Expert Fighter
Specialty: –
"Speech," 'Thought.'
