SEVEN NATION ARMY
11-07-2013, 04:58 PM
| Azalea |
|
Azalea paced herself. She couldn't be sure when the fighting would start but she guessed that it was already well underway. Glaciem and Amenti wolves had rolled out long ago and that left Azalea with a lot of catching up to do. It felt bizarre, being out of the snow capped north. Fall became more and more evident as she moved toward Valhalla. Her home called to her and longed to race toward it full throttle. There was surely a fight waiting for her, though, so she needed to save energy. Walking upon the familiar grounds of Valhalla's border, it didn't feel as warm and welcoming as usually. Her ears caught the angry snarls of the fight and her nose caught the whiff of blood. The battle was on. Azalea picked up the pace, racing across the familiar plains. The battle wasn't hard to spot, it was out in the open and wolves clashed everywhere. Her eyes struggled to find focus on any one wolf but they couldn't. She thought she saw Isardis but it could have been any white wolf. She wanted to see Chrysanthe, to see her parents. Sarak. There was a flash of Argent, the Glaciem she-wolf thick in battle. Azalea's hackles raised surprised that they were not already on end. This field of hurting wolves, it was exactly what she had feared. She had dreamed about this, endless nightmares. She just hoped that it wouldn't go as it did in her dreams. In real time there were only seconds spent sidelined, doing nothing. Her head lowered, tail pulling tight between her legs. Ears folded back against her skull as a wicked grow boiled up from the pit of her stomach. Glaciem had chosen to fuck with the wrong wolves. The little Adravendi woman was furious. She had grown tense, stance widening for a more grounded balance. Forward she moved in a stiff war dance. There was no time for hellos, it was time to go to war. Her eyes grew narrow, looking around for an opponent as well as protecting from any attack. There was only one question on her mind: who would it be? Azalea v. -- 0 of 2 defenses: Hackles raised, eyes narrowed, tail tucked, ears flattened, stance widened for better balance. attack: -- wounds: -- |
