Cross running back to her was both a worry and a relief. His speed meant that the cattle were no doubt aware of the presence of predators. And that meant the bull would be going on the defensive - which in feral beast terms meant offensive. She didn't bother shaking her head over her son though, he was just a pup. He didn't know better - yet. But she could chastise at a later point in time. It was amazing how quickly Crusade clicked back into military form. Perhaps it had something to do with the Alpha's tones, perhaps it was just the company of other warriors, but whatever caused it, oh how she liked it. She rolled her shoulders, spread her stance, drummed her claws softly on the ground. When the Alpha made delivered his orders, Crusade nodded her understanding and moved forward to take up her position on the left, still behind the cover of the treeline. She crouched there, waiting. She'd signaled with a twitch of her tail for her son to stay planted where he was. He'd been beginning to learn basic hunting signals, and out of the corner of her eye she saw that he was obeying this one time. The Timber cross started picking apart the beast in her mind - figureing out the weakest points, the best places to hold, the things to look out for. She was used to caribou and elk and even, with enough help, the occasional moose, but this was something slightly different. At first glance one would think it'd be slower and more lumbering, but Crusade saw how snappishly it could move as it swung out spit and twisted it's head round. She saw how thick those legs were - just about impossible to trip, and most impressive of all, how huge that hump of muscle and fat and flesh was over his neck. This new beast brought it's own set of challenges. But Crusade was still game. She glanced over at the King and the golden-eyed male he'd called Pontifex. She was ready and waiting. speech

Adrenaline began to pulse in his veins as he slithered forward when the two were in the optimal position. The bull knew they were present given Cross' decision to run back to them, but Gerhardt didn't blame the boy for his actions - he probably didn't know any better. As the King prepared himself he glanced to the skies briefly to seek out the eagle, but she was nowhere in sight. He knew she was preparing herself - she was his secret weapon. Gerhardt lifted himself to his full height, intending to distract the bull with his presence. When he felt that the beast had his eye turned toward him, the tri-colored wolf sprang forward in a purposeful charge, noting a shadow cast across his face. Robin was flying with him, just above him by a few feet. The two moved in tandem and as the eagle let out a shrill call, a snarl ripped from the King's throat. The bird moved forward then, diving at the bull's face and aiming her sharp talons for the right eye. Those three inch long claws hit their mark with absolute precision, leaving a streak of blood down the bull's face and a distinct blindness in that eye. Gerhardt launched himself as the bird pulled upward, jaws splayed open in seek of the now raging bull's trachea. The half blinded behemoth came forward, seeking revenge for his lost eye. Gerhardt gave a bark for his comrades to make their move, though he wasn't certain it would be heard over the bawling of the monster. Robin was rallying, aiming an attempt on the left eye, though as the bull thrashed his head she was knocked off course and forced to fly back the way she came. It seemed the beast was keen on keeping what was left of his eyesight.

"Speech"

Robin speech

This was his chance; his chance to help the King. To prove to Gerhardt that he deserved to carry the title that his deceased brother Octavian had once upheld. He would do his best to aid the King and the woman Crusade in the taking down the threat that this beast had become. Despite the tree being worthy warriors, the esquire wasn't sure if the three would be able to handle the monster on their own, but Pontifex would give it his all in an effort to eradicate the bull to the best of his ability. Hopefully someone else would join their hunting party and help them out, if not he prayed that luck would be on their side.


Golden pools were intent on his King, watching as the amethyst eyed man rose to his full height, drawing the attention of the giant bull, the King's companion eagle flying above him. And then Gerhardt was charging towards the bull, a snarl twisting his usually serious fa?ade, the bird of prey flying in tandem with the King as she attacked the bull's eye, gauging it and essentially blinding him, as Ger launched himself towards the prey's throat, looking to suffocate it as he barked to his comrades, calling them forward into battle. Sparing a glance towards Crusade, the esquire rushed forward, adrenaline pumping through his frame as he raced to the aid of the King, his own snarl twisting his inky lips as he moved towards the rear of the bull, looking to grab at one of the hind legs, trying to put himself as close to the soft underbelly as he could, looking to inflict as much damage as possible, though wary of the hooves flailing about.



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As soon as Gerhardt made his charge, Crusade was shoving off, keeping at his tail. The more variables this bull had to watch, the more chances the wolves had of landing their attacks. The Timber cross felt her strides extending, her belly dipping to the ground, her muzzle peeling back to reveal rows of fangs - yeah she was missing a couple, including one that had been ripped out in a fight, but there were still enough to get the job done. The only thing not going for her, was the fact that she was missing her right eye, and it hadn't exactly been brilliant of Gerhardt to place her on the left flank where her blind side was to the monster. But Crusade made do - instead of heading straight at the creature, she curved round a bit. Her focus was on the bull at this point, so, when the eagle came swooping down to half blind the thin in one go, Crusade was taken aback almost as much as the bull. Her parted jaws twisted in a grin. That evened up the odds a tad now didn't it. ~Oh don't be such a baby~ her thoughts chimed in as her ears were assaulted with the enraged and pained bellows. As Pontifex went for the side and slightly underneath, Crusade aimed high. She timed it so that her attack hit a second after the gold-eyed male's. The bull wouldn't have time to react to the one before the other came. She leapt from the ground and, while the old wolf didn't exactly stick the landing, her claws dug deep enough into the creature's flesh to give her a foothold. Well, except for her right paw anyway, she'd managed to rip the claws out of that one a couple years back. She was just a walking storybook of scars wasn't she? Well today she'd see if she could get one more. Throwing the weight of her shoulders into it, Crusade chomped down at the bull's back. ~And to think I'd predicted Cross would be the one trying to go riding.~ She thrashed her head back and forth, trying to dig through the leather and flesh to reach the bones underneath. Despite the bulls bucking and twisting, she had enough time to get pretty deep. After all, she'd probably chosen the safest place to be: too high up for the hooves, too far back for the horns. Crusade kept gnawing, kept plunging her fangs downward still little streams of oily red blood were dripping down the bull's fly bitten hide. Not bad for her first rodeo. speech

Gerhardt had never given much thought to Crusade?s lack of vision on the side that he?d told her to go to. Disabilities such as that were often overlooked, because Gerhardt found it very hard to judge an individual on such things. So, not a second of thought was given to his folly in choosing what side they would attack from, though he would soon recall it after the battle was over. Jaws that were splayed open snapped shut on the meaty part of the bull?s chest, a bit too low for his own good ? but a decent attack nevertheless. Metallic tasting blood slithered down his throat like a serpent as he ripped into the flesh, knowing he couldn?t linger long in front of the raging beast. In seconds he had drawn himself away and back, ready to collide with the bull once more ? this time in tandem with his comrades. The two wolves hit almost simultaneously, Crusade leaping upward while Pontifex focused on the lower parts. Excellent. Gerhardt slipped forward again whilst the bull raged and thrashed, fangs finding purchase on the thickly lined trachea. The neck of the bull was far more muscled than he?d ever imagined it being, and it was a bit too thick and burly to take out in one swift bite like that of a deer. And so, as quickly and purposefully as he could, Gerhardt began to gnaw at the behemoth?s throat, hoping desperately that he wouldn?t push his whole weight forward and fall on top of him. If he did ? the King would be in trouble. Speech,

The monster continued to flail about, throwing his hooves every which way, dangerously close to nicking the esquire across the face, but he was quick on his paws, dodging the flying before coming in to chop down smack in the middle of the beast's leg, daggers sinking through the tough flesh, liquid crimson rushing into his mouth. A noise of pain erupted from the bull's lips, its hooves flailing this way and that as it tried to dislodge the esquire from its leg. Snarls rumbled in the brute's chest, jaws tightening their grip on the leg, talons digging into the ground to keep himself from being swung around like a rag doll. If he could just injure the beasts leg, he could give the party an advantage and take the massive thing off its feet, lessening the danger.


Jaws released the now badly injured limb, frame wriggling back and out of the way of the thing's hooves, golden gaze dancing over the figure of Ger, watching as his king leapt away from the bull, only to charge at it again, locking his jaws around the bull's neck, desperately trying to chew through the tough hide. Pontifex held back, eyeing the bull's injured limb, hoping that if it fell, it was to fall backward and not forward. To fall forward would be to crush the king and the esquire wanted to be prepared lest that were to happen. Anxious golden eyes were focused on the king, hoping that the worst could be avoided.



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(ooc: I hope you guys don?t mind that I took it upon myself to play the bull a bit ? I was assuming we all could. I just wait to keep things moving and exciting. )

The bull was attacked from all sides, even from above. It thrashed and bellowed, and kicked out, only narrowly missing the wolves on the ground; but it was injured now. Blood loss from the neck, back and hind leg arties, Not to mention to the wounds themselves. The blow given to the hind leg, was crippling stuff, but it took time to take effect.

Crusade kept biting down, kept digging with her fangs till they reached the hard ivory of the creature?s spine. Her face, war painted with bull?s blood, Crusade latched on and crunched down with all her might, feeling every twist and quake through the animal?s body. Pain from all sides, snapped the monster into a rage unlike any other. Nothing mattered now but to get the hunters off ? and, with a thrash of his horn head, he arched, crow hopped, and then flailed his hind legs high into the air. Crusade?s footing was completely lost, it was unlikely even cat claws could?ve hung on through that. But even as she reached her apex, the bull?s hind legs landed ? his own weight came crashing down on that injured hind. It broke him. The beast, stumbled and fell in a heap to his side. Crusade meanwhile and bumped back down on his back ? nearer to his shoulders. If he?d had presence of mind still, the bull could?ve just turned his head and gored her, but it was too worried about getting back up. Crusade half bounced, half slid off his bulk and found her paws the moment she touched earth. The same earth that was shaking and shuddering as the bull scrapped with his hooves to get up. Unlike horses, bovine instinct is to get up with the hind end first ? a bad idea when one of those legs is torn almost beyond recognition. He might figure it out and try to switch to the front end, but by then, time was on the hunter?s side.

Perhaps placing himself at the mercy of the bull's weight was not the wisest decision, but the King could hardly resist an untouched jugular. A smirk of satisfaction brimmed in the corners of his widely spread lips as he delved deeper into the throat of the assailant. The bull groaned in protest, but being attacked from all sides meant that he couldn't do much to prevent being injured. Gerhardt felt the beast shifting, losing his grip on reality and the earth. The hulking creature landed on his side, forcing Gerhardt to release his throat or be whiplashed down to the earth in front of him. The King tore away flesh and muscle, spitting it onto the earth as if it were some vile poison. As long as the beast was alive, hunger would have to take a back seat. He dove in again, even as the bull thrashed, bringing his jaws shut on the same area he'd attacked before, this time with more force and fervor. Being that it was already torn open and vulnerable, it didn't take him long to deliver a bite that he was sure would end the bull in a minute or two. Blood ran through the gaps in his teeth, pooling on the ground as he finally brought his jaws away and heard the beast wail. The creature was still trying to stand, but doing so unsuccessfully given his severely injured hind limb. The King knew he was going to die, and so it was time to call off his warriors and let the beast go in peace. Be still, friends. He would understand if they didn't hear him, for there was much growling and bellowing in the air, but he himself would not pain the creature anymore - not until he was gone and could be feasted heartily upon. Speech,

And then the giant beast was falling. The esquire's plan had worked. It had managed to stay on its feet a little bit after Pontifex had injured its leg, with the combined weight of the king and the woman Crusade, the beast was no longer able to hold his own weight. The injured back limp caused the monster to collapse, its gargantuan frame dropping heavily to the ground. A flash of white told the dual-pelted man that the older woman Crusade had managed to get herself out of harms way, finding her paws and safety not to far from the bull. Golden gaze flickered to the King, watching as he leapt away from the animal as it tumbled down, only to come back at it again once down, worsening the already bad wound he had created. But instead of tearing its throat out, Gerhardt moved away from the beast, calling out to his comrades to leave the beast. Pontifex complied easily enough, dark paws carrying the man to his King's side, gaze resting on the dying animal, awaiting its last breath.



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