♛ TAKING BACK MY LOVE

[ I have been given permission to alter the maim and the context of the fight due to the fact that the tongue maim has been deemed unrealistic. Making a note here to make it clear that I have permission to edit Jupiter's dialogue and minorly edit her attacks involving the changed maim. Permission given by Tealah! ]

She stiffens as she realizes it--quivers at the deep, husky inhalation of Song's scent. Form freezes for a long moment before dark lips crack slowly into a crooked grin, posture easing back into her battle-ready stance. "No," she replies. There is no snarl tainting her tone--only cold, icy intelligence, calculation, realization as she lets the anger seep from the forefront of her conscience. "Sawtooth was never yours to give, was it, Song?" In her rage, she had missed it--missed the lack of the scent put off by someone in charge. She learns, now--learns the foolishness of her rage and merely smooths herself to a frozen sheet. "Pitiful." Paws sound behind her and whirls, audits flattening and defenses steeling themselves for the wolf that jumps at her from behind. She shifts, turns her body towards her own right, so that she can shift herself to be perpendicular between her two potential opponents (Song on her right, Canta on her left), knowing better than to turn her back on one unless needed. Her titanium alarm fades at the words that jump from the wolf's lips and she can't help but narrow her eyes and smile. Mother. The last she had seen of this wolf, she had been but a babe, as much of a child as she has been now. She takes one good look at the canine, abyssal pupils sweeping from down up to take in her slightly-smaller form and can't help but respond in a mirthless laugh. "Still sucking from your mother's teat, I see," she responds calmly. The woman remembers the black child, hardly anything but a newborn, cradled between Song's pale arms, tucked away in the salt-washed mangroves. They'd grown up in the safety of the glowing waters and enveloping branches and roots, in Lover's Mangrove. Their heart. Their home. Their pride. Made safe by her. She had guarded them with her life, with her soul and when she had dragged her diseased body away to save them, they had forgotten her. Months she'd lain in a den tucked at the end of the earth, Mercury hunting prey for her that she could not keep down, forcing water down her throat that felt like lead in her chest. Prayed that they would come to save her from her isolation, the last of her strength spent on pulling herself away. But months passed and she had slowly nursed herself back to strength. Alone. Paranoid. Terrified of death for the first time in her existence. Not even while staring Kaios' fangs in the face had she feared it but there, alone, with only Mercury at her side, she had felt that fear. And it had manifested--into this. Into a beast, raging and thirsting for their blood, fangs hungry and burning for the taste of copper crimson on her tongue. Conscience convinced--no, knew that they had forsaken her, had left her for dead. And it has turned her into this. And she will take it to her grave. "If only you were as passionate about doing things as you are about defending your poor, cowardly mother." In a twisted way she almost pities the poor girl. She could have honed that fire into something so productive, so fruitful. But instead, the woman is here, bound by that terribly ironic family name unworthy of even a penny, bound by an unworthy upbringing to preach of villains and heroes and yet be neither; they are worse than villains. Scum. "Your loyalty is nothing to me." Audits detect that wonderful, familiar voice and she captures the white woman in her peripherals. "Long time no see, dear," she croons casually, eyes still focused on the dark-pelted lass before her. Calculating. Pondering. Considering. She does not catch sight of the woman who has sidled next to her son and nor does she hear her words, but she will come to her attention. Eventually. After a quiet moment, she licks her lips, her focus sharpening. "And you," she snaps suddenly, icily, voice rising as her eyes bore into Canta. She scoffs. "So disgustingly blinded by your family's preaching. Though I suppose that's good--it means you won't be needing this." The moment that last syllable leaves her lips, she lunges. The power-housed behemoth, long recovered, seeks to close their proximal distance of several feet with two short but sudden and rapid strides. Due to her earlier twist, should the other's position not have altered, she makes her attempted diagonal assault from Canta's right. Jupiter's right shoulder is thrown forward as she aims to catch the other off-guard, seeking to brutally slam her right shoulder blade into the base of the she-wolf's throat, hoping to either completely destroy her vocal chords or wind her, at the very least. Shoulder is tossed forth with what is needed of her upper weight, ensuring that her right paw remains forward and on the earth as she attacks. Left paw seeks to slam unforgivingly upon the babe's right paw, seeking to dig talons down at the pressure points above the toes, hoping to grind her toes into those points and break something. Jupiter's dial cocks to her own right as gaping jaws seek to lodge top fangs directly into the woman's right eye, lower teeth hoping to hook painfully behind the bony line of the right side of Canta's lower jaw. Upper fangs hope to spear it from its top, down into its core, as she seeks to rip it clean from the other's socket. With warrior's precision, previously-laid defenses hold fast and strong. Previously-balanced weight shifts to compensate for her movement and maintain that balance. Tail is swept even with her spine. Front right leg is straightened upon the earth to drive her momentum into her attempted attack on the girl's throat, along with her front left leg as it seeks to thrust downwards, but her hind limbs remain properly bent and limber. Claws dig into the ground (and hopefully into f l e s h!), finding purchase where they can. Left shoulder rolls forward as much as allowed and is needed for minor protection of the base of her throat. Neck remains scrunched, stretching only minimally in her attempt to crunch upon her opponent's features. Narrowed eyes are overshadowed by furrowed brows. Lips remained curled, out of the way of her jaws, and audits remain firmly pinned against her skull. No mercy for the wicked. JUPITER VS CANTA for REMOVAL OF RIGHT EYE round 1/[2? 3?]