Burning Bridges
WE've not yet lost all our graces ooc: Alena would like to challenge for either Secondary or General, which ever Syrinx would rather her be. Anyone is welcome to post if they so choose, would like Syrinx first though <3 She had been scarce as of late. After that pup had scarred her face she had taken her leave to let her face heal and let her pride mend, but now she was back and back with avengance. Alena knew her abilities, was comfortable with them, and through everything was loyal to her pack. To Amenti. And therefore, she was loyal to her alpha. She wanted to be more involved with its workings and be more responsible for its well being. She wanted a bigger slice of the pie, so to speak. That's why when she walked into the caves that Amenti called home for the first time in a couple of weeks, she immediately went to seek out Syrinx. She felt like an awful mother for not looking for her children first, but this was for them as much as it was for herself. She sauntered through the caverns, her nose seeking out his scent. The ivory assassin wore her scars with pride, even though they were each signs of losses. Even a loss can be seen as a victory if one lives to tell the tale. She didn't always think this way, but she refused to be seen as weak, especially now on her return to the pack. Finally, after some searching, she found the russet, bare-jawed brute and she dipped her head in a respectful greeting. If there was anyone she felt the need to impress and appease it was the Arkhos. "Hello again, Syrinx, she said simply, neatly sinking to her haunches and letting her tail drape over her front paws. "...Especially our prettier ones," She wondered silently if he would still count her among the 'prettier ones' now with her new battle scars. Not wanting to beat around the bush, she spoke again, stating her case as simply as she could. "Lets not waste time, hm? I would like a higher rank. I believe Amenti will grow strong under your rule and I want to assist you in that. I have far too much experience with fighting, killing, and the like along with some experience with being an alpha myself. I do not want to be alpha again... but perhaps secondary to you?" Now she could only wait to see what his response would be. Would he agree? Would someone step up to try to take the rank from her? |
He is blissfully unaware of her motives and yet they present beauty and something worth being proud over in his mind. There is a favoritism in his mind reserved solely for Alena, and yet he does not know why. Perhaps it is that he knows that her devotion is not solely to him but to the nam eAmenti, perhaps it was something deeper and curiouser. Fact of it was, he had little time to look into why the white woman made his head feel a bit off. He had even less cause to spend too long wondering why the white witch was bent on taking -this- but, he had been made perfectly aware that a rank was what she wanted, and a rank was what he would give her. She deserved it--but he had a compromise to make with her and a daring one at that. Hopefully, she could accept his rigorous terms.
"Alena," The titan purrs as she appears before him. His eyes firm on her and unwavering as she so hungrily throws out what it is she as come for. Power. Oh, but it was what drove them all--and so he rose and he moved towards her. His deep blue gaze not wavering as he came to stand near her--as he attempted to draw his skull towards her neck and leave only enough space for her to breath--enough space that the air between them seemed smaller and so that he were barely touching her, "Power is what you want me to give you? What you want to take," That was how things were to be done in Amenti. Alas, someone had gotten it. "Then that you shall be," until someone usurps you. my rank can be taken at any time and so. can. yours. it was unspoken, but hopefully, she would understand/
She knew the sound of an ambitious challenger well, and she was quick to answer. Powerful limbs carried her forth, the golden matriarch turned into a golden warrior. She did not flinch from the prospect of battle; despite her age, Virgil?s pelt was lined with experience. Numerous scars and testimonies to her undefeated streak stand proud against her rich-hued body, and upon arrival she was simply urged further. Syrinx, a slowly growing fond spot within her chest. She wants to strip him away from this woman and make him hers, to tell him that if he wanted to play with her, there was a price to pay. And yet, Virgil has more sense than an animal, and more restraint. She was a strong, noble woman; there were refined ways of courtship. Instead, she lifted her left paw, seeking to nudge it against Syrinx?s hind right leg forcefully. ?So quick to crown her? And here I thought you had a pack of warriors,? she teased, fiery gaze falling upon the purple eyed woman. She was a stranger, but Virgil took her as a worthy opponent; this was a matter of testing herself, of staking a claim of her familial worth, and it was nothing personal. She did not doubt that one day she might befriend the woman, but for now they were opponents. ?Virgil Olympus. I?m challenging for the rank of Secondary, if you?re up for it,? she said with a grin. Battle was fun, regardless of the outcome. There was a teasing tone to her voice, one intended to bribe the violet eyed woman into action. Defenses began to set; legs spread equally apart, weight evenly distributed, limbs bent slightly, body lowered, toes spread, claws biting into the soil for traction, tail lashing out behind her for balance, head lowered to align with her spine, neck scrunched, chin tucked, hackles raised, jaws parted, eyes narrowed, and ears pinned back. She was young, but she was experienced in battle. Her size was greater than her opponent?s, and as such the golden warrioress had a good idea of how to go about this little dance. She looked forward to it; it would be the first battle of the Olympians, and she hoped that her dearest Syrinx would take note. 0/? (2 or 3? Up to you shelbs <3) |
Defenses remained set; legs spread equally apart, weight evenly distributed, limbs bent, body lowered, toes spread, claws biting into the soil, tail lashing out behind her, hackles raised, shoulders rolled, head lowered to align with her spine, neck scrunched, chin tucked, jaws parted, eyes narrowed and ears pinned back. Muscles tensed in preparation, although not too tense as to prevent fluid movement. Fiery gaze settled upon the ivory woman, prepared for movement whenever the white woman would provide it.
When Alena charged, Virgil would not remain stationary. She had a size and weight advantage here; she would need to use it if she desired to win. Her muscles enjoyed the sensation of use; it had been far too long since the golden warrior had experienced any sort of fight. Due to this movement, Virgil?s right side throat was protected from Alena?s jaws. However, this did not excuse her left side neck. Alena?s mouth would grasp a mouthful of fur and rolled skin (on account of Virgil?s neck being scrunched), obtaining a grip for the briefest of moments before Virgil?s own forward momentum ripped her own flesh off. The golden warrioress would be left with a missing chunk fur and flesh in the left side of her own neck, moderate in size. A low growl of pain left her, although she worried over it little.
She was not deterred from her desires. Virgil?s left shoulder sought to collide to her own left of Alena?s left shoulder (just inside the chest portion, for shoulder to shoulder contact was not a wise idea). At the same time, the golden warrior?s front left foot hoped to stamp down upon Alena?s front left foot, hoping to pin the appendage and perhaps create stress upon the bones. Virgil?s foot moved in a grinding motion, desiring to dig ragged claws upon the foot?s flesh, for although this lacked the capability of delivering deep puncturing wounds, any potential damage delivered was worth it. At the same time as her attempted shoulder strike, Virgil?s head turned to her own left, jaws hopefully lunging for the base of Alena?s neck (just in front of the area labeled scapila). She wished to sink her teeth into the flesh, fangs desiring to delve deep enough so that she might obtain a grip. Her head was attempting to shake moderately, hoping to tear into skin.
After all, the goal wasn?t to severely damage the woman. They were pack mates, after all. The goal was to tire her out, to wear her down, to put on a show for her alpha dearest. Watch closely, this is where the empire starts.
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