The Other Side
09-23-2013, 07:50 PM
(This post was last modified: 09-25-2013, 04:05 PM by Taurig.)
He knew very well what his words would provoke in his father. Isardis was a prideful man and he had proven it the day at the battlefield. And once again, the pale ghost was proving it now. He just couldn't face the fact that his own flesh and blood was standing up to him. Everyone else seemed to scared to stand up to the ghost but not Taurig. He was tired of how his father had been running things and he wasn't going to spend the rest of his life serving someone whom he disagreed with. It just wasn't right. His mother had taught him better than that. He just hoped that if she were here now, that she would approve of what he was doing. At the moment he had no one; he was utterly alone. Seraphine was here for moral support he supposed, but nothing more. She had her own true family to go back to. He didn't. To his utter surprise, a familiar silver figure appeared beside the pale seething King; Argent. Had she come to congratulate him? Didn't seem so. She spared him a glance and the now King could feel a piece of the organ in his heart chip away. She wasn't here for him; of course not. She was here for Isardis. She didn't want the albino to fight, not because it was his son that he would be fighting, but because she didn't want him hurt. It was a sad realization but one that Taurig had already come to terms with. The feelings that he felt for Argent never mattered in the first place and he would not let them get the better of him. She would never love him like she did his father and he was fine with that. He didn't need love. He was a warrior and now a King. He had to take care of the wolves that would come under his rule. That would be his main priority now. He could hear Argent try to plead with Isardis, try to dissuade him from fighting, but she was much too late. Isardis had already made his decision. Part of him had known that one day it would come down to this; the two of them fighting. He didn't want to fight his father, but it seemed that's what the pale ghost wanted. But the grey-blue knight would not give him what he wanted. He was embarrass his father, make him look like a fool in front of this audience, show them just what kind of petty man he was. Taurig wasn't going to stoop to his level; there was no need. He was better than that and he would prove it. The last phrase to drop from the ghost's lips would put the last nail in his coffin. Taurig would never help his father again, never acknowledge him as blood again. This man before him was of no relation to him any longer and he was to be considered an enemy. Taurig would ally with the rest of the packs and aid them were Glaciem to attack one day. He didn't care if the rest of his family didn't come along, that was fine. He only hoped that Sendoa would realize what Isardis had done and consider coming to live with him. And then it was on. Isardis quickly changed into his fighting stance and Taurig into his defensive. Chin would be tucked towards his chest to cover his throat, ears folding back against his skull, eyes narrowing to slits. Shoulders would be rolled forward, allowing the skin around it to bunch together as added protection to his vital area. Frame would tense, muscles coiling and bunching together beneath his dark pelt. Toes would be splayed evenly, talons firmly digging into the ground for better traction, knees bent in order to lower his center of gravity, plume held between his hocks, well out of harms way. He would watch the Ice King as he would circle around to Taurig's left side, coming at him from his haunches, aiming to barrel his shoulder into the blue King's. The cobalt King would hold his ground, scooting about only an inch or two from the impact, recoiling away only to use the momentum in an attempt to push his left shoulder back against the Ice King's and shove him away. Isardis would snap towards his upper jaws, canines hitting their mark, puncturing the skin there about an inch or two deep. Crimson liquid oozed from the gauges, pain beginning to throb from the wounds. A hiss of a breath escaped from his clamped jaws, but otherwise there was no move of retaliation from the titan. The bite to his upper lips would only be seconds long as Isardis changed his target almost instantaneously, aiming to grab his lower jaw. But seeing as though his chin was tucked towards his chest, his lower jaw was hard to reach, so instead Taurig simply tilted his head towards his left, allowing the bridge of his muzzle to take the full brunt of the bite, incisors once more digging into his flesh, adding two more puncture wounds to his muzzle. But the man would make no move against the pale king, denying him the fight that he clearly craved. Round 1 of 2 for Maiming Defense:Chin would be tucked towards his chest to cover his throat, ears folding back against his skull, eyes narrowing to slits. Shoulders would be rolled forward, allowing the skin around it to bunch together as added protection to his vital area. Frame would tense, muscles coiling and bunching together beneath his dark pelt. Toes would be splayed evenly, talons firmly digging into the ground for better traction, knees bent in order to lower his center of gravity, plume held between his hocks, well out of harms way. Attack: None Injuries: Two punctures to his upper lip and bridge of his muzzle and slight bruising to his left shoulder EDITED FOR ADDED INJURY Talk like this |