TIME FOR DESTRUCTION

*Isardis* · 02-01-2014, 11:40 PM

Now, they were all more than easy to ignore; his attentions so fixated, so focused upon his silver siren in all her youthful glory. But the blue maned woman was digging herself a grave, and though he could do no more than chuckle with twisted pleasure at her spitting insults, she had still managed to frustrate him. He would rise from his haunches and gaze upon her crimson eyes, smirk wound tight against supple lips, he would cackle continuously, more amused by every utterance that she strut. It was all fun and games; that was until she mentioned false hope of giving Artemis a ?scar?. A foul snarl would pull pale lips upwards into a vicious show of his polished ivories, ?I will destroy every inch of your already dwindling physical normality before you lay a filthy blade against my Overseer, wench,? spittle formed against his cherry lips like a rabid dog, coral ears pulled against his scalp as he readied himself to deal the woman her lesson.

Defences solidified; stance squared, weight evenly disseminated, knees bent, chest lowered, toes splayed, claws biting into the rocky soil, tail swayed level with an aligned spine, hackles raised, shoulders rolled, head lowered to ally with his shoulders, neck scrunched, chin tucked, jaws agape, eyes narrowed and ears pinned against tapered skull. Muscles remained tense in groundwork, however supple to allow his vigorous movements. With accentuated effort Isardis would push forwards from the power coiled beneath broad thighs, attempting to approach the strange woman from head-on (slightly to her left), his left shoulder blade jutted in an effort to try and collide its surface with the tender regions of her leftwards oesophagus just above the tapers of her chest (and at the base of her throat). He wanted to throw his weight into the potential crushing force of his superiority, jaws simultaneously aiming to glide to his left, hungry and hoping to latch onto the lower left regions of her side-neck.

She had made a mistake, and he would not simply stand around while she threatened his people. A last attempt was made, his right forepaw seeking to slide in beneath the left side of her left forelimb; his own appendage kept straight as he would attempt to knock the joint of his right ankle against her left cephalic vein, attempting to drag his right limb back to his own right, striving to carry her own limb with it before he would hastily strive to slam his weight back down against the once-lifted paw, once again striving to equalize his weight.

Isardis vs. Vahva - Round 1 of 2?

For Permanent Scarring.

[Image: TgW7k5D.png]

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