IT'S A CHISEL THAT SHAPES YOU

His anger was like a storm in the ocean. The weight of her brother's rage crashed down upon her like a volatile wave, but Enyo stood tall. Her expression remained unflinching.

The comment about her estrus, the insinuation that some feminine, uncontrollable urge drove her actions, struck her like a slap. Her lip curled in disdain, and her eyes narrowed with dangerous intensity. Did Erebos underestimate her because she was a woman?

He should be thanking the Gods she was born so. For had she been a man, surely he would be below her. Even now, as a woman, she rivaled him. Erebos was saved by luck, and he did not have to earn anything like she did. Patriarch was gifted upon him was it not?

Was it not a woman who taught him how to be dangerous? Was it not a woman who made him strong?

"Do you lack so much faith in me? Do you not want me to remind the children of the hierarchy in place? I am doing the job their mother has failed to do as of yet. But nothing so crazy to warrant such an emotional reaction. I would think you're the female. You should want me to hurt them- to make them stronger. But I have not killed him, I could have. " She could still. But there was no desire to murder her nephew.

Enyo felt the familiar heat of frustration stir inside her, but it was not the heat of something so easily dismissed as Erebos had presumed. It was the boiling fire of purpose, of control, of power. The insult he had thrown her way only fanned the flames that were constantly burning inside. That condescending comment. How dare he think she was somehow lesser than him.

And to continue as if she would roll onto her back and submit? Why? Because he was Patriarch? That thoughtless arrogance, the assumption that his sex and title made him invincible. This display, which could've been done in private, was now a show that the boy before them would no doubt gossip about. Foolish brute. A man full of pride and ego. No. Erebos was no one she feared. This moment made her stomach churn with utter disgust. Enyo's eyes flashed with a cold fury that had never been directed towards her brother till now. She felt the heat of his anger thick in the air, but it did nothing to stir the cold, calm fury that brewed within her. She had been trained with him. She knew every nuance of his movements, every tick that signaled the rise of his temper. Erebros was fast, faster than most, but she was no stranger to his fury. She had been raised beside him and endured the same tests of strength and survival. Their mother Nike’s cruelty shaped her; her rage tempered in a way that Erebros had never understood.

She would remind him.

There was no Nike in Boreas to beat the weak out of these pups, so she needed to be the Nike they needed.

"How typical of you Erebos. You think I'm going to just give you my blood? You're going to have to earn it. And if you ever think my head would come off so easily, let me remind you why I am the Warlord." Did he really think she couldn't stand toe-to-toe? She took a step closer. He was of equal height and nearly equal weight. Enyo may have been only a few pounds leaner, but there was no ounce of fat on her body. She was a beast designed for war. For violence.

She would never be put in her place. Adrenaline crashed through her, and her chest heaved with a pounding heart. This would be a fight. A fight worth her while. Erebos acted because he did not trust her as he led her to believe. She was a fool to think things would be different here. That Erebos was somehow different.

She could work harder than every other Dunamis, striving to be perfection. But there was always someone waiting to remind her that she would always be just a woman, that being a woman would always be weak in their eyes.

Shame to see it was her own brother reminding her.

As he lunged toward her, Enyo was already moving, her body a blur of calculated movements. She sidestepped his initial attack. Her teeth snapped the air, but her target was not his neck. With a fluid motion, she aimed for his exposed side, her sharp-capped teeth aiming for his ribs.

Enyo's movements were quicker than ever. Should she connect, her jaw would lock down with every ounce of force she could muster.

Enyo circled him, her teeth bared, her muscles tense and coiled for the next strike. She would never let him win. Not like this. Not after everything they had been through, everything that had shaped them both. If he won this battle then she would get up again and again and again till they were both exhausted and bloody from this war. She was his equal. She always had been.

Enyo knew the game of power all too well. He assumed his anger could shake her, but he was a fool to think she would be intimidated. This was not the same woman he had known before.



"SPEECH"
"GREEK"

ENYO vs Erebos for Minor Maim (chest scarring)
Round 1/1
Age: Over 1 year
Size: Titan
Build: Heavy
Offensive Battle Accessory: Canine caps
Defensive Battle Accessory: Daedric armor
Companion 1: Peregrine Falcon, Female - Battle
Companion 2: Snow Owl, gender - Flying
Skills: Master Fighter & Master Hunter
Specialty: Berserker