Blood of the Ancients
Seasonal / Scylla
06-26-2024, 01:22 AM
Through the soft snow, paw of an unnaturally large size crunched their way across unfamiliar territory. The path left behind in the behemoth's wake would have been the stuff of legend around Boreas, and likely been dismissed for hogwash or hoaxes, unless they were to see the massive wolf that left behind such tracks. Through the wintry woods the giant prowled, coat as stark as the snow he crushed beneath impossibly large digits. The pristine white fur was marred only by occasional patches of ashy gray, and a dappling of jaguar-like spots covered his body like active camouflage against the snowy terrain. Dense clouds of humid breath hung in the cold winter air at the end of a muzzle that could have snapped over the largest wolf's head like a bear trap, and above that dangerous maw, two pools of molten gold peered out at the world around him, swerving through the trees on either side of him, keeping his guard up, ready... waiting...
He had known they were tracking him for some time now. He had known since he had killed one of their own trying to poach a deer from him. The cocky brute thought he could outsmart him, but in the end, Nero had left the wolf a mangled mess of what he had once been. Nobody tried to steal from him. But the stupid wolf had not been alone. The rest of his group—a posse, really—was pursuing him through the forest, keeping their distance enough that he could not pin down exactly where they were, but he knew they were there. Every so often, Nero would hear the snap of a branch, the rustle of dry foliage, the crunch of ice under the weight of a foot, and he would know they were still tracking him. Unfortunately for the wolves, he was the mightiest hunter in these lands, and he was going to teach them a harsh and unforgiving lesson as to why.
Following the sounds of a nearby waterfall, Nero veered his path and lumbered leisurely through the winter woods, heading for the falls. He kept his ears turned back, scanning for sounds. When he reached the clearing that opened up to the impressive waterfalls, the gargantuan wolf paused, sniffing the air and the ground. There was a pack set up here; their borders were clearly marked and well defined, recently established. Hmm, that posed a small complication... But Nero was not given any time to dwell on the matter. Turning back, he saw the three wolves emerge from the woods to finally face off against him. They glared, they snarled, they put on a good show of looking intimidating. But Nero just stared at all three brutes unfazed, sizing them up, taking them in with a predatory gaze.
"You're gonna pay for what you did to our brother," snarled the one clearly established as the leader of the trio.
Nero just stared the significantly smaller wolf in the eyes, his piercing golden gaze burning holes into the other wolf's head. "Guess I'll just have to kill you first." His response was cold and simple; no need to mince words with wolves who were about to be dead. Refusing to back down from his obvious threat, the wolves rushed Nero, two splitting off to try to flank him. Nero waited until they got closer, then swiftly kicked up a wave of slushy snow at the nearest wolf, pelting him with wet snow and ice. It was enough to distract him, giving Nero all the opening he needed. With a vicious snarl, Nero lunged for the wolf, grabbing the brute up by the neck in his powerful jaws. The wolf yelped, then gave a strangled whine for mercy as Nero lifted the wolf right off his paws, holding him aloft kicking and flailing. The wolf's friends tried to save him by biting at Nero's legs, their teeth sinking into his thick fur and skin, but Nero merely flinched and endured the pain. Then, with one powerful snap of his jaws, he crushed the brute's throat and shattered his neck, killing him immediately. But he was not satisfied yet. In a gratuitous display of violence and gore, Nero snapped his jaws down again, rendering the dead wolf's neck to pulp and filling his maw with the coppery taste of blood and sinew. A third snap and the wolf's head separated from his body, the decapitated remains crumpling to the snowy ground and staining the pristine canvas of white snow a deep red. One down, two to go.
Focusing his attention on the smaller wolves biting and clawing at his sides, Nero snarled and swung a massive paw out to catch the leader along the side of his head, sending him sprawling across the snow. The third brute did manage to get some good bites in on Nero's thigh, just barely missing his femoral artery by fractions of an inch. Nero snarled against the pain, feeling the blood run down his leg. Blazing gold eyes turned to the brute hanging off his thigh, and with a quick adjustment of his hip, he kicked his leg out to catch the wolf under his belly, kicking him away. The brute did manage to rip through Nero's thigh on the way out though, sharp teeth leaving deep lacerations across his leg that bled profusely. Nero grunted and pushed through the pain, reveling in the surge of adrenaline that came with it. It sharpened his senses, made him more aware—more deadly.
It was those sharper senses that caught the lead brute coming at him again. Nero turned just in time to intercept the wolf's lunge, both brutes snarling and biting at one another's face and neck. Nero caught the wolf across the face with his fangs enough to puncture through his cheek, while the brute got some deep scratches along the arctic dire's collarbone, staining his clean white fur with speckles of crimson. That was when Nero felt the second wolf leap onto his back, claws and fangs going into his flesh along his spine. Nero roared in pain and thrashed, trying to buck the wolf off his back, but to no avail. The bites on his back moved up, chomping down through flesh where his neck and shoulder met, trying to rip through his arteries and veins. Unable to continue a fight with his focus split, Nero demonstrated his special trait—he grabbed the lead wolf's face with his paw, dexterous digits getting a good grip around the wolf's snout and jaw and slamming his head down into the ground before tossing the stunned wolf's body aside. Now able to focus on the wolf on his back, Nero began to run towards the cliffs of the falls, turning to throw his back against the unforgiving rock face. The wolf was slammed between Nero and the rock, crushing him hard enough he yelped and flopped off of Nero's back. Freed from the assault, Nero rounded on the stunned brute and grabbed him by the head as well, then proceeded to slam the brute's skull back against the cliff over and over and over and over. Dull thuds soon became wet squishes as the brute's skull was pulverized and his brains were turned to mush against the rock and he was left twitching in his death throes. Nero watched the wolf twitch in his grasp for a moment, then bashed his head against the rock a few more times for good measure until his movements ceased and he was dead. One left.
Turning to face the last brute, the leader, Nero was a sight. Covered in blood, both his own and his foes', he calmly stalked over to the wolf who was trying to stumble away in his dazed stupor. The brute made it about three paces before he fell to the snow again, and then it was all over. Nero was upon him, grabbing the wolf's scruff in his jaws and lifted the screaming wolf up. The wolf was begging for mercy, sputtering out apologies faster than his tongue could form the words, but it didn't matter. His fate had been sealed when he decided to attack Nero. Without so much as a word to the doomed wolf, Nero parted his massive jaws and snapped them down over the much smaller wolf's head, biting down through the bone where the jaw connected to the skull. The wolf screamed in terror and panic—then was silenced forever as Nero bit straight through the wolf's skull, bisecting his head with a wet rip and pop of bones. Nero dropped the still twitching corpse to the ground and spat out the rest of the wolf's head beside the body, his foe's eyes still open wide and filled with terror in their post mortem glassy state.
And just like that, the fight was over. Nero had won and left the clearing around the falls a veritable bloodbath, most of the snow stained red and three mutilated corpses strewn about. But it had come at a great cost. Nero had sustained several serious wounds, including the deep lacerations in his thigh and the bites around his neck which had begun to drip blood down his chest and back. The paleo brute grunted and winced as the searing pain began to fill his brain, the adrenaline beginning to ebb away and leave him in the aftermath of combat. He was no healer, he had no means to treat all of his injuries. His fate would be in the hands of the old gods now. Limping over to the plunge pool at the base of the falls, Nero slumped down across the snowy shore and dipped his muzzle into the ice cold water, taking deep laps to quench his thirst and cool his body down. He was well within the pack's territory now, but he didn't care. He'd left a massacre on their lands anyway, and soon, they'd have a fourth, rather impressive body exsanguinated beside their waterfall too. How sad, Nero thought to himself, for a creature of the old blood to die in such a shameful way.
WC: 1688
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| 1. | Blood of the Ancients | Sunset Falls | 01:22 AM, 06-26-2024 | 01:58 PM, 09-26-2024 |
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