Enyo's massive frame moved through the tall, lush grasses of Emerald Valley, her silver-blue and icy-blue eyes scanning the landscape with keen intensity. The heavy musk of mahogany, teakwood, and leather trailed behind her, mingling with the damp earth and the scent of prey that littered the valley. She sniffed disdainfully at the herbs scattered across the ground, pawing through them half-heartedly. This task was beneath her.

Herbs. Of all the things her brother could have asked, it had to be this. A growl rumbled low in her throat as she pushed a patch of lavender aside with her massive paw, her thick, rugged fur bristling in irritation. The thick muscles of her neck and shoulders tensed as she picked up a sprig of something green, examining it briefly before tossing it aside with an air of contempt. The task was mundane, a waste of her strength and her potential. There were wolves better suited to this. Those without the stature or the raw power of the Dunamis bloodline coursing through their veins. She was a force to be reckoned with, not some herbalist tending to greenery like a common scavenger.

Still, the command came from Erebros, and despite her many grievances, she would not defy her brother- not openly, at least. Her loyalty to her bloodline was absolute. Her relationship with her brother had been tested many times, tempered and built to last. Erebros did not do things to just humiliate her, she was grateful that he respected her. So while she felt resentment simmering below, she tried to justify or at least understand his reasons behind assigning her to this specific task. Was it to be as a break? She had been working hard lately, pushing herself harder and harder during the attempts at expanding pack territory. Perhaps he knew she was not the sort to just take a rest day, she had to accomplish something. Maybe, she came to realize, this was his way of forcing her to take a break. With menial work that still could be considered productive.

Her thoughts drifted as she straightened up, her eyes momentarily catching her reflection in the glimmering waters of the nearby river. She paused, the river’s soft gurgling drawing her gaze. It was instinctive, the way her gaze lingered on the handsome, imposing figure that looked back at her. Strong, fierce, undeniably powerful. The corners of her icy eyes softened for a fleeting moment, indulging in the sight of herself. The goddess of war she was named after suit her. Divine stature she was blessed with, yet cursed in a world that dared to diminish her worth because of her gender. Yet, beneath that veneer of self-admiration lurked the familiar thorn of envy, the same envy that gnawed at her whenever she thought of her male relatives.

If only you had been born a son... If only. Why wouldn't she be enough as she was now? It felt that her brother was the only one who truly understood Enyo's worth. He treated her as he treated the others. It was one of the reasons she would never betray him, she planned to stand beside her littermate as they did from the beginning. From birth to death, she would help prop her brother up into power. To help him achieve his goals, it was how she showed the love she would not display in a hug or promise with words. Enyo could hope that being so far away from the elders and her parents would allow her to breathe. To become more. To transcend the limitations thrown upon women in the family.

Her tail twitched or what little remained of it, anyway. A stark reminder of battles fought, won, and tests she failed at the cost of her relentless pursuit of respect. The bobbed stump wasn’t something she flaunted, but neither did she hide it. It was proof of her resilience, a badge of honor despite the loss. She was still every bit the warrior she had always been.

The world around her was peaceful and serene despite the storm brewing inside her. She sniffed the air, picking up the scent of prey nearby. Large animals grazed in the distance, their presence only adding to her irritation. Why was she here collecting herbs when her strength could be used to take down prey, to show her power? But no, she was bound by the task given to her by her brother.

Her eyes narrowed as she plucked another herb from the ground, holding it up to the light before adding it to her small collection with a sigh. She didn't even know if these were the correct ones nor did she care. Erebros could sort through them and decide what was worthwhile and what was of no use. She just picked something up that she thought looked more important than the rest. Fine, she thought, the weight of duty pressing down on her as much as her envy.


"SPEECH"

CODE BY SIN

The scent of mahogany and leather drifted toward him, mingling with the damp, earthy air and faint traces of prey nearby. But the core of it was hers—he was certain. Even as his attention flickered toward the underlying notes of a hunt and bloodshed, always calling to him, he remained still, watching the woman. His breath hitched, muscles tensing as his claws pressed into the soil, an instinctive response to the tension rising within. A subtle, persistent urge whispered to challenge her. She was different—new. And he relished testing the unfamiliar.

Her movements had purpose, though not the kind he had anticipated. Redrum had heard of her family joining his mother’s pack, but seeing her—and any of them, really—in person was something else entirely. He had never witnessed another family unit up close, had never seen the unity or power that came from shared blood. A force, perhaps—thick muscles, tension rippling beneath rugged fur—it all spoke of battle, of strength. She didn’t seem like one who belonged among herbs, not by any stretch of the imagination. But here she was. And restless. His curiosity was ravenous.

His ears pinned back as he shifted, gaze locked onto her as she continued her tedious task. He had no mind for the healing craft, all the crimson brute knew was the color red in every form. He inhaled deeply, an uneven breath escaping as the predatory drive flared in his chest. His muscles twitched again, his jaw tightening as thoughts of approaching flickered through his mind. But he hesitated. There was something about her—something that gave him pause. She wasn’t a wolf to be approached carelessly, though he couldn’t pinpoint why. He hadn’t known fear since his attack as a child—but maybe… This was something akin to anticipation.

He tilted his head, studying her in silence for a long moment before making his decision. His movements became fluid, deliberate. He prowled forward, confident yet marked by a peculiar oddness that was distinctly his. His golden eyes tracked her every motion, but his body language conveyed no threat, no ambush. He was, as usual, somewhere between the timing of a stalk and a lunge. His skull hung low between his shoulders, inviting her to notice him without the need for stealth. This wasn’t a hunt—it was a meeting, and now that he had stepped into her presence, retreat was no longer an option. “Hates herbs. But then– why does she collect– them? Masochist?” He rumbled out, eyes flashing from her task to the dirt on her paws, and back to her face. Fangs peeked out from his lips as he spoke, skin rippling with barely contained muscular spasms.


"Murder"

Enyo’s ears twitched as Redrum’s scent hit her, a sharp contrast of blood and primal ferocity. She recognized it instantly- the deep crimson undertone that she had come to associate with his presence since the hunt. Her gaze flicked over her shoulder, eyes locking onto him, catching his odd approach. There was something about his movements that both intrigued and unsettled her. A restless energy, a predator constantly on the brink. But today, instead of her usual biting edge, she felt something different- interest.

She shifted her weight, the powerful muscles in her shoulders rippling under her dense piebald coat. Her eyes turned toward him with a steady, assessing gaze. His words, teasing and edged with that peculiar ferocity of his, only deepened her intrigue. He was different from most in a wild erratic way that made her both curious and cautious. A worthy predator in his own right.

Enyo let out a low chuckle, his way of speaking was short and blunt. It would take some getting used to but she was already familiar with the oddities that she was becoming to know as Mortem. Her velvety voice was somewhat warmer than usual but still carried that ever-present undertone of sharpness. "Masochist?" Her gaze flicked to the herbs at her feet, her disdain for the task was evident in the way her lip curled slightly. "Perhaps. More so obligation. But we all do what our family asks of us, don’t we."

She lifted her head high again, the pride in her posture unmistakable, even as her words dripped with quiet resentment. Her broad chest expanded as she inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of Redrum as it mingled with the air. His presence was oddly welcome, though she wouldn’t admit it outright. He reminded her of the thing she loved most, bloodshed and the urge to destroy and rend. The darker side of Enyo that Erebros knew well. The force within her. She had seen him in action, watched him take down prey with a ferocity that spoke to her own battle-hardened spirit. In that, she found a kindred force. Someone who mirrored her primal savagery.

"And you, Redrum. Did you come all this way to mock me for gathering herbs, or is there something else on your mind?" She gestured to the herbs with a dismissive flick of her paw.

Her eyes gleamed with a challenge, a subtle invitation hidden beneath the layers of pride and superiority she wore like armor. There was a light tension in the air, the pull of two predators sizing each other up. Enyo held his gaze, unyielding yet unusually open, waiting to see what Redrum would do next.


"SPEECH"

CODE BY SIN

Redrum's gaze sharpened as Enyo’s question hung in the air, his golden eyes narrowing to slits, catching the weight of her challenge. The tension between them thickened—like blood. His lips curled slightly, revealing a fleeting glimpse of fangs, as though the question itself had bitten into something deeper and more primal within him. He listened to her laugh, her velvet voice laced with mockery, and his tall ears pinned sharply forward, alert.

"Mock? No… probably–not." His voice rasped unevenly, halting, each word forced past the familiar tension coiled in his throat. Yet beneath that roughness, there was something darker, something almost... playful. He was rumbling out his words like a dare. His body remained taut but not aggressive, coiled in a way that suggested readiness, not hostility. His nostrils flared, drawing in her scent, mingled with the bitter herbs she seemed to despise, while his claws flexed into the earth like a predator holding itself back, as always. He’d always had such a hard time making others comfortable in his presence.

“Enyo,” he continued, the pause stretching thick between syllables, “isn’t—” another hitch in his words, "the type for... mundane things, is she?" At least as far as he had been able to observe. His words lingered, almost taunting in their broken rhythm, as though he was savoring every second of her attention. His muscles rippled beneath his fur, betraying the restless energy simmering beneath the surface, as if each word threatened to spill over into something more—aggressive, challenging, daring her to respond.

"Enyo... prefers blood," he murmured, his voice dipping lower, as though testing the truth of the words. He stepped closer, deliberate, his head raising just enough to meet her eyes from beneath furrowed brows. His gaze flickered briefly to the herbs before returning to hers, locking on with a focus that bordered on untamed. "A fight. Not with plants."

“Will Enyo– fight Redrum?” His voice, devoid of hostility, was still the heavy weight of what remained unsaid, what could only be sought through blood and fangs and teeth.

""

Enyo’s eyes gleamed with a fierce, predatory light the moment Redrum spoke the words she hadn’t even realized she was longing to hear. Her heart quickened in her chest, a spark of excitement flaring in her belly. something raw and primal. A hunger she couldn’t suppress. His halting words, the rough edge to his voice, and the way he moved like a beast barely restrained only stoked that fire within her.

He gets it.

Her muscles tightened instinctively as she met his gaze, the blue eyes locking onto his golden ones with an intensity that sent a thrill through her. She had never been one for pleasantries or meaningless exchanges; blood and battle were the only languages that truly spoke to her soul. And here he was, offering her just that.

The challenge. The thrill. The fight.

A wide, dangerous grin spread across her broad muzzle, revealing the sharp, gleaming edges of her fangs. "So you’ve been paying attention." Her voice was low, thick with the pleasure of his understanding, a growl of approval rumbling in her chest. Redrum wasn’t like the others. She was beginning to understand that he not only saw but understood what she craved, what drove her. He wasn’t here to mock her or dismiss her. Nor was he a sycophant just whisked away by her prowess and size. He was here to challenge her, to test her in the way she knew best.

Enyo's massive frame shifted as she rose to her full height, her posture transforming from one of mundane obligation to that of a warrior preparing for battle. Her thick, muscular limbs braced against the earth, claws sinking into the soil with a satisfying crunch as she squared off with him. The tension that had been simmering between them now crackled in the air, thick with anticipation. She relished it, savored the way it made her blood hum with life.

Her broad shoulders rolled back, and her head dipped slightly, a playful glint in her eyes that was rarely seen. She was pleased- no, more than that, thrilled- by his invitation. This was what she had been waiting for, the mundane task of collecting herbs long forgotten. The thought of clashing with someone like Redrum, someone who could match her in both ferocity and strength, sent a thrill through her that was impossible to ignore.

"You understand a feeling that I cannot find the words for. Bloodshed... Fighting. Pain. Death. I love it. It is unparalleled pleasure," she purred, her voice dripping with anticipation. "Plants bore me. But a fight... now that’s something I live for."

Win or lose she was quite happy.

With a fluid motion, Enyo lowered herself into a fighting stance. Her thick, muscular body coiled and ready to spring. Her fur bristled along her back, the thick mane around her neck and shoulders only adding to her imposing silhouette. She felt alive. More alive than she had in days. Every nerve in her body buzzed with the promise of violence, her jaws parting slightly as a growl of satisfaction escaped her lips.

"Let’s see if you’re as dangerous as you look," she taunted, her eyes flashing with challenge, a grin still playing on her face. She lowered her head, muscles rippling beneath her dense fur as she prepared for his first move. "I hope you’re ready, Redrum. I don’t hold back. Don't inhibit yourself for me either. I can take a beating and I've never been afraid of pain." Her excitement seemed to get the best of her, raising the stakes of the fight.

The thrill of the hunt, the heat of battle- it was all she needed, and Redrum had just offered it to her on a silver platter.

ENYO vs Redrum for Minor Maim
Round 0/?
Age: over 1 year
Size: Dire wolf
Build: Heavy
Offensive Battle Accessory: Canine caps
Defensive Battle Accessory: Daedric armor
Companion 1: Peregrine Falcon, Female - Battle
Skills: Advanced Fighter & Novice Hunter
Specialty: None

"SPEECH"

CODE BY SIN

Redrum’s body responded before his mind could catch up. A tremor rolled through his muscles, one that ran deeper than the usual spasms—this anticipation, pure and raw. His ears twitched at her words, each one sinking into him like a well-aimed strike. The challenge was there, hanging in the air between them, and it felt like fire licking at his skin. His claws flexed deeper into the earth, as though grounding himself before the inevitable clash. Crude woman, but he liked the brutal words spilling from her maw.

Her grin sent a shiver down his spine. A gesture mimicked by the erratic curling of his own lips. She was hungry for the fight, as hungry as he was, and that made his blood hum. Hunter he was, and he wanted nothing more than to test if she was truly a predator herself; or prey to rend. His jaw twitched, this time more violently, his breath hitching as he inhaled her scent—wild, ready, charged with the same electricity that crackled in the space between them. The bitter herbs she had long discarded lingered faintly, but it was the scent of adrenaline, of a warrior preparing for battle—that consumed him. His weight swayed from left to right, perhaps loosening the tension within his joints.

He could hear the blood in his ears, hear the distant shriek of the feline beckoning him forward. Meanwhile, her words—they sank into him like claws. They were things he understood without needing to be taught. They spoke to the part of him that never fit anywhere, never found comfort in peace or pleasantries. Redrum didn’t need to respond, not with words at least. Instead, his body moved, fluid yet jagged in its own way, as though each motion was a struggle to contain something far more dangerous beneath the surface of his blood colored hide.

The air felt thick, heavier with every breath, the promise of violence filling his lungs with each inhale. Redrum’s shoulders rolled back, the motion slow, deliberate, his eyes narrowing to slits as he watched her every move. Her muscular form braced for a fight, and his body responded in kind—his spine arching slightly, fur bristling along his neck and shoulders as the tension in the air became nearly suffocating.

His golden eyes trailed the integrity of her fores before they locked onto hers, and something dark and primal stirred in the depths of his chest. The flicker of a grin ghosted over his lips once again as she assured him she was prepared for whatever he gave her, but it never quite formed as he laughed gruffly instead. Words failed the brute now, so he let his body speak for him, the feral energy rippling beneath his fur like a caged beast, just waiting for the signal to be unleashed. He took a step forward, slow and deliberate, his head dipping low as his long ears flattened against his skull, not out of submission—never— but focus.

Redrum’s lips curled again, this time a low rumble escaping his throat—a growl, but not quite. It was far too animalistic, beyond their current evolution. It was the sound of barely restrained excitement, of the need for blood, for a fight. He tilted his head, the motion slow, deliberate yet again, as though sizing her up in a way that wasn’t just physical. Ah. Words finally came to mind, and he spoke them into existence.

"Does Enyo— look good painted— red?” His voice was low, the pauses in his words more pronounced now as his breath quickened. He didn't need to say more. His muscles twitching and flexing as though waiting for that perfect moment to snap.

No more words. No more hesitation.

With a sudden burst of speed, he lunged, his body moving like a Freight train off its rails. There was no holding back. He didn’t think he could have anyways. The young brute’s gores reached to grapple at her, attempting to crash his chest into her own as he sought purchase with fangs— hoping to snatch the flesh at her jugular.

Redrum vs Enyo for Minor Maim (Scarring)
Round 1/2
Age: Over 1
Size: Extra large
Build: Heavy
Offensive Battle Accessory: Feline claw fittings
Defensive Battle Accessory: Feline mask
Companion 1: Merlin Falcon, Female - Perception
Companion 2: Merlin Falcon, Male - Perception
Skills: Master Fighter & Master Hunter
Specialty: Hawk-Eyed

"Murder"

Enyo's heart surged as Redrum lunged, the rawness of his movement was a direct reflection of her own primal desires. He came at her like a force of nature; it was everything she had hoped for. Pure, unrestrained power. Her grin widened, her lips curling back to expose her sharp fangs, a growl of excitement rumbling from deep within her chest. She welcomed the sudden chaos, the weight of his force against her body, the thrill of a true clash between intense forces.

Enyo felt her pulse thunder as she watched Redrum move, his body practically vibrating with anticipation. She caught the erratic curl of his lips and heard the primal sound that tore from his throat. Something deeper than a growl, something raw. The thrill of the impending fight only amplified her senses, her heartbeat syncing with the cadence of his uneven breaths. The words he uttered were taunting and evocative.

"Red is my favorite color," she snarled through her teeth, her voice thick with exhilaration. While he thought of himself as an apex hunter, Enyo saw herself as the ultimate weapon. Where he saw those weaker as prey, Enyo saw them as her whetstone.

His sudden burst of speed was fast and Enyo’s body responded immediately. Her muscles coiled as he lunged, his powerful form barreling towards her like an unstoppable force. But she was no passive target. With a clever shift of her weight, Enyo pivoted, allowing his forward momentum to crash into her. She twisted her body just enough to absorb the impact, her forepaws wrapping around his shoulders with a fierce grip.

His fangs grazed her neck, but Enyo didn’t flinch. Pain would only fuel her excitement, and her eyes flashed with an equally wild light. She relished the closeness, the tangle of fur and muscle, the heat radiating from their bodies as they struggled for dominance. So similar to making love. Instead, she used his own force against him, leaning into him with her powerful build and yanking him down. The ground would rush up to meet them as she attempted to drag him into a grapple. Their bodies would collide heavily with the earth. Her mane would cushion the impact, as her chest pressed firmly into his as she twisted her hind legs around his to pin him in place.

"Not so easy, Redrum," she growled, her voice a low, velvet purr that carried both amusement and challenge. The struggle was intoxicating, the way their muscles tensed and shifted against each other, each trying to gain the upper hand. Enyo reveled in the rawness of it, her eyes locking onto his as she tried to keep him close. Her forelimbs tightened their hold.

She could feel his muscles twitch beneath her, the barely restrained energy ready to explode, and it thrilled her. Enyo had no intention of letting this end too quickly—no, she wanted to savor every moment of this clash, the exhilarating dance of strength and dominance.

"Show me what you've got! Give me all of your strength."



ENYO vs Redrum for Minor Maim
Round 1/2
Age: over 1 year
Size: Dire wolf
Build: Heavy
Offensive Battle Accessory: Canine caps
Defensive Battle Accessory: Daedric armor
Companion 1: Peregrine Falcon, Female - Battle
Skills: Advanced Fighter & Novice Hunter
Specialty: none


"SPEECH"

CODE BY SIN

Redrum’s snarl was a guttural rasp, rumbling through his chest as he met her hold. Enyo's force was impressive, but he was a creature born of defiance, of pushing back against anything that sought to restrain him. Her challenge was sweet venom, feeding the fire already blazing in his veins. She might think herself a weapon, but he would ensure she felt the bite of his fangs if she faltered even once.

A low, predatory laugh bubbled from his throat, his golden eyes darkening with wicked delight. “Redrum likes—the fight—in Enyo,” he rasped, his breath ragged but charged with intensity. The collision of their bodies, the friction, was exhilarating. It was a dance of resistance and power, a game of flesh and bone that he couldn’t get enough of. Every bruise, every strain, only fanned the flames of his obsession, igniting his instinctual urge to pursue her fury.

He didn’t give in to the pin, not fully. His limbs twisted violently, back arching as he rolled his shoulders, shifting his weight beneath her grip. Teeth snapped inches from her muzzle, a flash of ivory threatening to break the stalemate. Did she think she could keep him contained? No. Redrum was chaos embodied, a force that broke chains rather than submitting to them. His growl was a dark promise, something primal and untamed.

He pushed back with a sudden surge of strength, seeking to unbalance her. His hind legs flexed sharply, claws digging into the soil for leverage. He wanted to feel her struggle, to savor the way her grip tightened in response to his defiance. It was a heady mix of pain and pleasure, of bloodlust and thrill—a feeling that sent electricity coursing through every nerve.

"Enyo—thinks—she—can hold Redrum?" he snarled, each word punctuated by a violent jerk of his body. Muscles tensed, fur bristling as his head snapped forward, aiming to drive his teeth into the thick ruff of fur at her throat. Not to wound—no, not yet—but to feel her pulse under his bite, to taste the heat of her skin and remind her that he was still very much in this fight.

Their bodies were a blur of movement, a mess of fur and muscle locked in a brutal waltz. His grip tightened, claws seeking purchase against her hide. She wanted his strength? He would give her every ounce of it, every drop of wild fury that roared through his blood. Redrum’s breath hitched, a snarl vibrating from deep within as he twisted beneath her, arching his back to press forward against her, to feel every shift of her form against his, accepting her hold on him as he grinned maniacally.

“More—” he growled, voice thick and low, dripping with the same fevered energy that glinted in his gaze. “Red—will—show—Enyo—more!” He was losing himself to it—the madness of battle, the intoxicating rhythm of give and take. Did she think she could handle it? That she could withstand the storm brewing behind his teeth? He’d ensure she knew just how consuming his hunger was.

With a sudden, savage twist, he jerked his head up, fangs snapping shut just shy of her ear. “Let—Red—tear—y-you—apart,” he whispered, the words a violent vow that left no room for doubt. He didn’t want to just fight her—no, he wanted to unravel her, to break her open and see what lay beneath that fierce exterior. Because if she truly understood him, if she truly mirrored the darkness in his own soul, then this would be just the beginning.

Redrum bucked, a brutal push of his hind legs, seeking to dislodge her even as his jaws clamped onto whatever they could reach. He wanted her closer, wanted her struggling and snapping, wanted to feel every shred of her strength against his own. She wanted all of him? Then she’d better be prepared to take everything—the blood, the rage, the raw, unrelenting force of his will.

“S-see—what—Enyo’s—got!” he snarled, voice ragged, a dark grin splitting his muzzle as he felt her muscles tense beneath him. It was a challenge, a dare, a promise wrapped in violence and the thrill of the hunt.

Redrum vs Enyo for Minor Maim (Scarring)
Round 2/2
Age: Over 1
Size: Extra large
Build: Heavy
Offensive Battle Accessory: Feline claw fittings
Defensive Battle Accessory: Feline mask
Companion 1: Merlin Falcon, Female - Perception
Companion 2: Merlin Falcon, Male - Perception
Skills: Master Fighter & Master Hunter
Specialty: Hawk-Eyed
"Murder"

Enyo felt something twist deep inside her. The darkness, a raw primal urge surged to life as Redrum pushed back against her. His snarling words, laced with violence and challenge, ignited her blood. She felt her heart thunder in her chest, each pulse loud and consuming. His sudden shift. Red's rebellion against her. It aroused something she couldn’t quite name, something that twisted her pleasure into something sharp and untamed. The dark, primal laugh that escaped him made her skin prickle with anticipation, her eyes widening in true surprise before her eyes dilated until they were almost pitch black, swallowing the blue until only a thin ring of silver remained.

There was something deliciously twisted about how he fought back, about how he wouldn’t yield. The feeling sank into her bones and heated her body in perverted arousal, something as dark and feral as her soul. The heat of his breath on her muzzle, the snap of his teeth near her own...it all made her blood sing. Their bodies the dancers, their heartbeat pumping the song of adrenaline. This was the thrill she lived for, the violent dance where power clashed against power. A place with no room for hesitation. Every bruise, every cut, the warmth of his and her blood mingling in the air....it all blended into an intoxicating mix that made her crave more. It wasn't just a fight. It was communion. Celebration.

A deep, guttural laugh that was dark and rich, bubbled up from her throat, echoing through the snarls and snaps. "Red wants more? Then take it," she spat, her voice low and dripping with the same energy that burned in his eyes. The way he twisted beneath her, his strength meeting hers, their bodies writhing together. She felt something deep within her stir. Something that was dark and hungry that matched Redrum with equal fervor. Every violent jerk, every deliberate snap of his teeth against her fur fed into her, building her rage, her desire, her need to prove herself. He created an environment for her to be herself. He not only witnessed it but met it with his own fervor. His breath against her throat was fire, and she welcomed it- wanted more of it, wanted to feel that heat seep into her very being.

Their bodies were a tangled blur of fur and claws, but in that chaos, Enyo found a sense of affection she hadn’t felt in so long. It wasn’t just the thrill of the fight, it was the feeling of freedom. Freedom to unleash all that she had held back for so long. The abuses she had suffered, the constant struggle to prove herself, the hatred she carried for being born a woman when she knew she was destined for war. All of it erupted now, channeling itself into every movement, every strike. She was not just Enyo; she was the goddess of war. The Dragon of Dunamis.

As Redrum surged, trying to throw her off balance, Enyo let her grip loosen just enough to roll with his movement. She wasn't going to be thrown. No. She was going to stay with him, match him force for force, heartbeat for heartbeat. Force him to grapple if she could. As he went to bite her throat she would turn just in time to feel his jaws clamp onto her shoulder, his teeth sinking into her skin. The pain was electric, snapping through her like lightning.

Enyo shifted her weight, her limbs would try to wrap tighter around his body. She used his own momentum, letting him gain total control while she suddenly drove her head down, her jaws parting wide as she aimed for his neck. She wasn't looking to injure either, she wanted to take him, to show him she could take everything he gave and still come out on top. To give pain as she received it. She could feel his heart pounding beneath her, the rush of blood just under his skin, and it thrilled her.

"Red thinks he can tear Enyo apart?" she murmured against his fur, her voice a low growl. "bleed for it."


"Take it" she hissed, her voice low, almost tender as she repeated herself. With that, she bit down, not to harm, but to try to hold in some painful embrace. Her body pressed against his, her heart pounding in rhythm with his. This was her dance. Violent, brutal, and beautiful. She was going to savor every second of it.

ENYO vs Redrum for Minor Maim
Round 2/2
Age: Over 1 year
Size: Dire wolf
Build: Heavy
Offensive Battle Accessory: Canine caps
Defensive Battle Accessory: Daedric armor
Companion 1: Peregrine Falcon, Female - Battle
Skills: Advanced Fighter & Novice Hunter
Specialty:none


"SPEECH"

CODE BY SIN

And the winner is...

Redrum

ENYO must give up by submitting, fleeing or passing out. Redrum's maim is successful. Totals: OPPONENT1: Attack Roll: 56 Defense Roll: 40 Agility Roll: 52 Perception Roll: 50 Total: 198 Attack[56] + 35% Bonus[19.60]: 75.60 Defense[40] + 20% Bonus[8.00]: 48.00 Agility[52] + 0% Bonus[0.00]: 52.00 Perception[50] + 50% Bonus[25.00]: 75.00 Total[250.60] + 25% Bonus[62.65]: 313.25 ENYO: Attack Roll: 31 Defense Roll: 86 Agility Roll: 25 Perception Roll: 64 Total: 206 Attack[31] + 35% Bonus[10.85]: 41.85 Defense[86] + 15% Bonus[12.90]: 98.90 Agility[25] + 0% Bonus[0.00]: 25.00 Perception[64] + 0% Bonus[0.00]: 64.00 Total[229.75] + 15% Bonus[34.46]: 264.21

It was not entirely on purpose, but it became so as soon as he tasted her. The instant his fangs sank into her shoulder, a wild tremor ran through him, and his body jerked, muscles spasming as if struck by lightning. Redrum’s world shrank to the taste of her blood, hot and metallic, searing against his tongue. It electrified every nerve, every sinew, contorting his form into a coiled frenzy. A brutal strike delivered by a brute barely able to contain the twitching anticipation roiling beneath his fur. Their bodies tangled, caught in a vicious embrace of teeth and claws, and the pain only sharpened the red wolf’s hunger, his need for more. The answer eluded him.

When she struck back, fangs piercing deep into his neck, a strangled snarl tore from his throat—a broken, feral sound. The sharp pain cut through the fog of his violent haze, slicing straight into the madness simmering beneath. His ears pinned flat, twitching violently with every shudder of his muscles. His growl came out uneven, stuttering as his jaws clenched harder, muscles bunching and spasming along his spine as he fought for control. Her blood soaked his maw, seeping past his lips, marking him and her in crimson. A mark he’d burn into her mind, one she’d remember. His entire body quivered, shuddering with barely restrained wrath, the need to consume her presence like a meal clawing at him from the inside out.

Feel it. His mind howled in disjointed bursts, erratic and ragged. Her pulse hammered beneath his teeth, beating erratically against his tongue, each throb matching the wild rhythm of his own heart as it threatened to beat out of his chest. Maybe it was his pulse that rang so violently in his ears, a pounding drumbeat that left him half-mad with predatory desire and fury.

Her weight shifted, coiling tighter around him, and his breath hitched—a sharp, ragged inhale that shuddered through him, making his limbs jerk and twitch beneath her. His claws gouged into the dirt, scrabbling for purchase, muscles knotting beneath her grip as he bore down. The pain was exquisite—intensely beautiful. He was at a loss to understand why though. But the young brute always navigated life as such. It drove through the chaos in his mind like a blade, reminding him that she wasn’t breaking. She was fighting, and he wanted her to fight. His mouth twisted in a broken grin, lips pulling back from blood-stained fangs. The red wolf’s body quaked, every muscle trembling with coiled energy, every nerve set ablaze. He craved this struggle, the brutal clash of strength against strength, will against will. It was a hunt, a savage dance, and Redrum was ravenous for it.

Her teeth dug deeper, and he twitched violently yet again, always again, every muscle spasming in raw, instinctual response. His snarl turned guttural, a mangled growl that came out halting and uneven, his breath a ragged rasp through clenched teeth. The pressure on his neck sent shivers racing down his spine, feeding into the roiling storm beneath his fur. Agony bled into something primal, intoxicating. His limbs spasmed, jerking in wild, uncontrolled fits as he fought to wrench free, his entire form a live wire of twitching rage. Had he ever had such a fight before? A hunt? No. Never.

His lungs burned, his ribs groaned, but the sensation of being trapped—of this predator pressing so close—only deepened his hunger. A savage glee twisted through him, and his lips peeled back in a broken, twitching grin. He’d seen it before—the two bucks locked in an eternal embrace, antlers tangled, neither yielding until death took them both.

“Bleed,” he growled, his voice a jagged, broken rasp. “Bleed—for—Redrum.” Each word shuddered out of him in uneven bursts, punctuated by the shivers that wracked his frame, every breath hitching and trembling.

Because this—this—was where he thrived. Where pain and rage and dark satisfaction blurred into one, where there were no boundaries, no restraints. Only blood and violence and the sheer, brutal joy of being alive. Yes. He was alive.

He didn’t have the answers. Didn’t have the capacity to think it through, not now. Not when every nerve screamed with fire and fury, when his very soul trembled with the thrill of it. He just wanted—wanted her to fight, to clash, to push him until something broke. Whether it was her or him, he didn’t care.

"Murder"

Enyo felt the white-hot sting as Redrum's fangs tore into her shoulder, the sharp pain blossoming into something far more complex. A mingling of rage, satisfaction, and an unexpected thrill. Her blood surged at the feeling, seeping past his jaws, and her body responded in kind, muscles rippling beneath her fur. The rawness of his bite, the ferocity that twisted his body into a frenzied blur of motion, made her pulse quicken. He looked almost bestial, the way his eyes darkened with fury, the trembling twitch of his muscles as he fought beneath her. There was nothing calculated or measured. Only instinct, raw and pure, and to Enyo, it was intoxicating.

He would scar Enyo as his mother did before him. This Mortem family. How deadly they were. How worthy they all proved to be.

She knew she should've hated him for it. For the pain, but instead, the sight of him like this stirred something deep within her. She met his gaze, her own eyes wide and dark, the look of pure, feral lust consuming them. His struggle, his savage hunger, the way he craved her blood. It was beautiful. And she wanted it all. She was no stranger to violence, but this...this was different. There was an intimacy to it, a rawness that spoke to the very core of who she was. Many wanted her body, and only women had the pleasure of having it. However, no one had ever demanded of her this way. None of them had allowed her to just fully unleash this side and meet it with such understanding.

Her lips curled into a grin, a breathless snarl vibrating through her chest, eyes narrowing with both challenge and desire. She could feel his body thrumming beneath hers, his muscles taut, twitching, straining for release. She wanted to meet that energy, to match it. to surpass it. Redrum’s animalistic state only fueled her own, and she could feel her desire for him grow. An insatiable need to test him, to push him, to see how far he could go before one of them snapped.

She could see his broken grin, the way his lips pulled back to reveal blood-stained fangs, and something dark twisted within her once more. A thrill, a pleasure that she had never found in anyone else. There was a fire between them, one that could only be stoked by pain and fury, and she craved it like nothing else. Her eyes locked onto his, her gaze smoldering, a look of pure hunger that had nothing to do with their fight.

“Yes, Redrum,” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper, but laced with intent. “Make me bleed. Show me everything you’ve got.” His blood dripped onto her, painting her red. Her wounded shoulder blossomed into a crimson flower. Painting her more and more red. What a wonderful feeling.

Her fangs sank deeper into his neck, her hold tightening as she twisted her body, using the strength in her limbs to force him down even further. She reveled in the way his body jerked beneath her, the uncontrolled spasms that spoke of a power barely contained. The pain in her shoulder was a constant, reminder of his power, and it drove her to fight harder, to keep pressing until he had nothing left to give. She would not be bested by a man.

The warmth of their mingling blood, the bruises that were already beginning to form. It was all part of the dance, that she loved more than anything. Enyo let her claws rake against his side, feeling his flesh yield beneath her, her grip tightening as she forced him into the dirt. Her gaze bore into his, the look of lust and violence clear in her expression. She was aroused by his strength, by his resistance, by the way he met her every challenge and threw it right back at her. She was confused partially, but at that moment she didn't care.

Her breath came out in short, ragged bursts, her body pressing harder against his, her muscles coiled and ready to spring at any moment. She wanted him to fight, to struggle, to keep coming at her until there was nothing left but the two of them, locked in this vicious embrace. She did just meet him but she did love him like this. Or at least love the beast within, how it brought her own. This fight was perhaps one of the most passionate things she had ever experienced. So different. So intimate in an odd way.

Enyo’s jaws loosened slightly, enough for her to pull back and meet his gaze once more. Her tongue flicked out, tasting his blood, her eyes dark and hungry, her lips curling into a wicked smile. "Make me bleed?" she growled, her voice a low, sultry purr. Her breath was heavy as she tried to find the air to continue "Then do it. But know this- I will keep coming for you, Redrum. Again and again, until one of us breaks."

She shifted her weight, her muscles rippling as she tried to force him onto his back. She looked down at him, her gaze filled with desire, her breath hot and heavy as she pressed her body against his, her claws digging into his shoulders. Her voice ragged with both lust and challenge. "I want to meet you like this again. I want to feel your strength, your hunger, your rage." It was the most fun she had in ages. One of the few cathartic moments she was blessed with.

And with that, she lunged, her teeth snapping shut just shy of his throat, her eyes blazing with intent. She wanted more of him. More. More. More. Wanted to feel his every movement, his every breath, wanted to see how far he would go, how much he would give. More. She wanted him to push her, to fight her, to make her bleed. And she would do the same to him, over and over, until there was nothing left but the two of them, locked in this eternal, brutal dance. Until their bodies collapsed.

Enyo let out a snarling laugh, her voice thick with excitement. "Keep going Red!" And she meant every word, her body coiled and ready, her gaze locked on his, her heart pounding with the thrill of it all. This was her love. A love forged in violence, in blood, in the clash of strength and will. And she wanted nothing more than to see where it would take them next.


ENYO vs Redrum for Dominance
Round 1/?
Age: Over 1 year
Size: Dire wolf
Build: Heavy
Offensive Battle Accessory: Canine caps
Defensive Battle Accessory: Daedric armor
Companion 1: Peregrine Falcon, Female - Battle
Skills: Expert Fighter & Novice Hunter
Specialty: none

"SPEECH"

CODE BY SIN

She was not like the others. Not yielding to fear. Not submitting to save her flesh. No fear of what he was behind her bright eyes. Her fangs buried in his flesh like searing brands, marking him in return. A way none had ever. Not like this at least. The thought of it — of her wanting this, wanting him to push her further — sent a jolt of brutal desire surging through him. Strange. He felt strange. His muscles twitched uncontrollably beneath her weight, every nerve screaming with a need that bordered on madness. What… was happening? His mind could not begin to comprehend, so instead, he continued to act. That was his way.

A ragged gasp tore from his throat as her weight shifted, trying to drive him down. His breath hitched, uneven and shallow as he fought against the pressure, his spine arching with the strain. Every ounce of him trembled, shuddering beneath her, a visceral display of his inability to remain still, even now. His curse since the attack he experienced as a pup. Even pinned. His body jerked violently, the urge to lash out, to crush and tear, bubbling up like a roiling, uncontainable force.

“Enyo—” he rasped, voice a broken snarl, the syllable shivering out of him in jagged bursts. “Enyo thinks—” His neck twisted, jerking against her grip, every muscle coiling like a snake ready to strike. His gaze locked onto hers, wild and manic, glowing with a fevered hunger that burned hotter than any pain she could inflict. “Enyo—can break—Redrum before—Redrum breaks her?”

His breath stuttered, and then he laughed, a guttural, mangled sound that cracked like a whip in the charged air between them. It was a challenge, a taunt, his bloodied grin twisting into something almost delirious. Good. He wanted her to try. Wanted to see if she could force him down, break him apart, tear him open. His fur stood on end, every muscle quaking as he fought against the instinct to lunge, to snap. More. He needed more.

“Make—Redrum—bleed—?” he snarled, voice splintering into broken syllables, each word punctuated by a wild twitch of his muscles, a sharp, involuntary shudder that wracked his entire frame. “Enyo has. So—make—Redrum feel—it!”

He wanted the pain. Wanted the struggle. Wanted to tear and rend and lose himself in the savage ecstasy of their clash. His grin widened, blood-slick and twisted, a flash of crimson fangs that gleamed beneath the dark, matted fur of his muzzle. His body bucked beneath her now, every muscle convulsing with a desperate, twitching need that he couldn’t control. Ah. What was it? That ache. Too strange. Uncomfortable but burning.

Her eyes, dark and blazing with a hunger that mirrored his own, were a snare he couldn’t look away from. She wanted more. Wanted him to give more. A thrill unlike any other twisted through his gut, feeding into the storm raging beneath his skin. He snarled, a halting, guttural sound that stuttered out in sharp, uneven bursts, every breath hitching, every nerve alight.

And then he lunged, teeth snapping, claws raking the earth as he twisted beneath her, a raw, violent surge of power and fury that sent them both crashing to the ground. Rolling if he could. His breath came in ragged, hitching gasps, his entire frame quivering with the force of his own frenzy, his own desperate, unquenchable hunger.

“Break. Redrum.” he snarled, voice a shattered growl that shook with the weight of his demand. “Or Redrum will break—you.”

Because in this brutal, twisted dance, there were no boundaries, no limits. Only blood. Only pain. Only the raw, searing joy of tearing each other apart.

And he—Redrum—was ravenous for it. Unlike anything else.

Redrum vs Enyo for Dominance
Round 1/2
Age: Over 1
Size: Extra large
Build: Heavy
Offensive Battle Accessory: Feline claw fittings
Defensive Battle Accessory: Feline mask
Companion 1: Merlin Falcon, Female - Perception
Companion 2: Merlin Falcon, Male - Perception
Skills: Master Fighter & Master Hunter
Specialty: Hawk-Eyed


"Murder"

Enyo felt her muscles beginning to tire, each movement a bit more sluggish than the last. The long, grueling fight had started to take its toll. Her strength was waning as she forced herself to keep pressing. Keep fighting. But if her body faltered, her willpower remained unyielding. She had never known when to quit, and she wasn’t about to start now. Not with Redrum, in such a vulnerable moment as this.

She didn't know precisely what she wanted from him. It felt more than just a fight itself, something deeper, something she couldn't name. But when she looked at him, with his crimson-stained grin and eyes alight with primal hunger, an idea began to form in her mind. A dangerous and tempting idea. She wanted him, wanted to take him in a way that went beyond the violence. She imagined their bodies entangled. Not in a struggle for dominance, but in something innate and consuming. The two of them covered in blood, driven by pure desire.

Her heart skipped a beat, and a flash of heat rose to her cheeks beneath her fur, hot and almost unbearable. She snarled in frustration, shaking her head violently to rid herself of the thought, embarrassed rage bubbled up inside her. No. She couldn’t afford to let herself think like that. Not now. Not ever. She had never found a man who made her want them in such a manner. Especially not while they were still locked in this brutal clash. But despite her resistance, the image lingered the notion of them together like that searing into her mind and refusing to leave.

Redrum’s voice snapped her back into the moment, his words hitting her like a challenge. Daring her to make good on her promises. And she would. She would push him, break him, or let herself be broken in the process. Whatever the outcome was, she knew she would be more than satisfied.

Enyo saw him lunge, the flash of his fangs. The twitching energy forcing his body into motion, and for a heartbeat, she made no move to avoid it. She let him come, let him crash into her, his teeth sinking into her side. The pressure of his jaws sent a shiver down her spine. The pain was sharp, electric, and she reveled in it, her breath coming out in a ragged exhale. She wanted to feel him like this—wanted the intensity of his need, his hunger, wanted it to consume them both. It was only a wound after all.

Her body responded before her mind did, muscles coiling around his, her fangs baring as she snarled into the air. She twisted against him, letting him take her down, letting his weight pin her, her breath hitching as she felt the warmth of his body against hers. It wasn’t surrender more like sneaking pleasure. The pain was starting to feel good. But victory was going to feel even better. She was Dunamis, even in the thrall she was in, she would never forget it. She needed to win. She hungered for it.

She could feel his breath hot against her fur, his muscles twitching with each movement, his maw clamped on her flesh. She snarled, the sound deep and guttural, a voice thick with lust and defiance. "Is that all?" she taunted, her voice coming out a low, ragged growl. Her body twisted beneath his, her legs bunching to force him into her even more.

Her eyes, still blazing with dark, primal desire, met his, and she let her expression soften just for a moment, her lips pulling back into a wicked, knowing grin. "Do it." she rasped, her voice breathless, but there was a promise there, a whisper of something more. Did he get it? Did she even understand what she meant?

She would let him take her. Let him mark her, let him make her bleed. But in return, she would do the same to him. She’d take every ounce of his strength, his rage, and she’d give it right back until there was nothing left. Somewhere beneath the pain, beneath the fight, was something else... something she couldn’t name but wanted to feel. Wanted to experience him alone.

Her fur was soaked now. There was barely any white that wasn't baptized in blood. Slick it was with blood. Fun. She lunged back at him, jaws snapping close to his ear, her breath a hot, ragged snarl. Her entire body was alive.


ENYO vs Redrum for Dominance
Round 2/2
Age: Over 1 year
Size: Dire wolf
Build: Heavy
Offensive Battle Accessory: Canine caps
Defensive Battle Accessory: Daedric armor
Companion 1: Peregrine Falcon, Female - Battle
Skills: Expert Fighter & Novice Hunter
Specialty: none


"SPEECH"

CODE BY SIN

His vision blurred, sharpened, then blurred again—blood and lust and madness swirling in a chaotic, vicious dance. She was giving in, but not the way others had. Her body moved beneath him, shifting, accepting. And yet—yet there was no submission. Only that damned, unrelenting defiance. She was toying with him. Letting him in. But not to surrender. No, she wanted more. Something dark. Something he couldn’t quite grasp, couldn’t name—but it pulled at him all the same.

“M-ore?” he rasped, his voice a strangled snarl vibrating against her blood-slicked fur. His muscles jerked violently, body trembling as he adjusted his hold on her, fangs digging deeper. She taunted him, and he could feel it—the way she arched into him, the way her breath hitched in what could only be described as... pleasure? A wild, broken laugh tore from his throat, his limbs spasming uncontrollably as he shifted, pressing his weight against her, savoring the way she yielded and resisted all at once.

“You—don’t—break?” he snarled, voice stuttering out in sharp, uneven bursts as he ground his teeth against her skin, the metallic taste of blood flooding his mouth. His own muscles quivered with unrestrained energy, each twitch of his frame a jagged reminder of his lack of control. He felt her twist beneath him, her legs bunching, forcing him closer. A shudder ran down his spine, a visceral thrill that sent every nerve alight. What did she think she was doing? What game was this?

His breath hitched, fangs scraping against the wound he’d made as he jerked his head, pulling and twisting until the flesh strained and her blood flowed freely. “Enyo–” he snarled, but the words were mangled, caught between his need to dominate and the strange, feral urge to—what? Keep her. Mark her. Bind her so she couldn’t slip away. Snare her like a prey animal.

Her taunt hit him like a blow, a low, guttural growl thick with lust and defiance. “Is—that—all?” she hissed, and Redrum’s eyes blazed with fury, a feral snarl ripping from his chest. No, no, it wasn’t enough. Nothing was ever enough. He wanted to crush her, to feel her break beneath him, to watch that unyielding fire shatter—but then she smiled. A wicked, knowing grin that made something twist violently in his chest, made his entire frame convulse with a sudden, uncontrollable spasm. Augh. This woman.

“Do it.” The breathless rasp, the promise laced within those words, sent a jolt of raw, searing desire through him. His body locked up, every muscle trembling, twitching against hers in sharp, erratic bursts as his gaze fixed on hers. She—What did she mean? What did she want? He could feel it—the challenge, the dare, the dark, twisted need that mirrored his own, but it was tangled, confusing. He wasn’t sure he understood. But he wanted it. Wanted—

And then she lunged. Her teeth snapped close to his ear, hot breath washing over his fur as she pressed against him, her body a twisted mirror of his own hunger. The feel of it—the closeness, the intensity—sent another violent shudder tearing through him, his own breath hitching in a broken gasp as his muscles locked, twitching spasmodically against her. She was alive—so alive—and it made him want to drown in her, to let this brutal dance consume them both until there was nothing left but blood and pain and the wild, savage joy of being alive.

“Enyo.” he snarled, voice ragged and raw, each syllable trembling with the force of his own unrelenting need. “Bleed– damn you.” Because in this moment, in this clash of bodies and wills, there was no pain, no exhaustion—only them. Bound in blood and violence and the pure, primal ecstasy of this. At least, for this godforsaken moment.


Redrum vs Enyo for Dominance
Round 2/2
Age: Over 1
Size: Extra large
Build: Heavy
Offensive Battle Accessory: Feline claw fittings
Defensive Battle Accessory: Feline mask
Companion 1: Merlin Falcon, Female - Perception
Companion 2: Merlin Falcon, Male - Perception
Skills: Master Fighter & Master Hunter
Specialty: Hawk-Eyed
"Murder"

And the winner is...

ENYO

REDRUM must give up by submitting, fleeing or passing out. Totals: ENYO: Attack Roll: 100 Critical attack! Defense Roll: 35 Agility Roll: 88 Perception Roll: 94 Total: 317 Attack[100] + 35% Bonus[35.00]: 135.00 Defense[35] + 15% Bonus[5.25]: 40.25 Agility[88] + 0% Bonus[0.00]: 88.00 Perception[94] + 0% Bonus[0.00]: 94.00 Total[357.25] + 15% Bonus[53.59]: 410.84 REDRUM: Attack Roll: 43 Defense Roll: 67 Agility Roll: 28 Perception Roll: 40 Total: 178 Attack[43] + 35% Bonus[15.05]: 58.05 Defense[67] + 20% Bonus[13.40]: 80.40 Agility[28] + 0% Bonus[0.00]: 28.00 Perception[40] + 50% Bonus[20.00]: 60.00 Total[226.45] + 25% Bonus[56.61]: 283.06

Enyo smirked as he commented on her lack of breaking. Her eyes burned with pride, "You've never had me before. You've never had Enyo. Never a Dunamis. I can take it. I can take you." Did he understand? She looked at him, he would spasm but she didn't care. It was part of him. It was who he was, and she didn't mind it. She would take all of it, accept it.

Enyo’s eyes narrowed, a hint of frustration beginning to gnaw at her as Redrum’s ragged voice snarled against her fur, as his teeth scraped her skin and his grip shifted seeking to dominate. He was relentless in pushing her, demanding she break. Yet for all his fury and all the power, there was a gap, an absence of something that gnawed at her.

It wasn’t that he lacked desire... no... his body trembled with it. The hunger in his eyes mirrored her own. But something was missing. He wasn’t picking up on what she wanted. Red wasn’t reading the unspoken signals she had sent. The way she let her body move against his. The taunts, the invitation for something beyond the violence. It wasn’t that he refused her, it was as if he didn’t understand.

What was it? She had never had trouble with this before. Perhaps men were different? She had never wanted one before. Maybe she was too used to women and men required different tactics? Her intentions should have been as clear as the blood staining their fur, as the closeness of their bodies. And yet, instead of pushing her into something more- instead of taking her in the way she was suddenly wanting, he just kept snarling, biting, challenging. Why wasn’t he seeing it? She didn’t understand. She’d let him pin her, let his weight press against her, and the way she’d arched beneath him, the way she had whispered her taunt. It had been clear, hadn’t it? She wanted him. Wanted to lose herself in the blood and the heat of him, in something other than the violence.

A strange, unsettling thought began to form in her mind as she watched him, her breath coming out in ragged bursts. Was it possible that Redrum had never done this before? That, for all his raw power, for all the aggression and hunger, he was... inexperienced? The realization struck her like a blow, making her hesitate for a heartbeat. Her movements faltered as her mind worked to understand.

Was he younger than she thought? The idea twisted something inside her. A mix of confusion, disbelief, and a strange feeling of guilt. She hadn’t considered it before. Redrum carried himself with such confidence. Such ferocity, that she’d assumed he understood what she wanted, what she was offering. But now, as she watched the wild gleam in his eyes and the way his muscles twitched and spasmed as if unsure what to do next, it clicked into place.

He didn’t know.

Oh god.

He didn't know.


Her heart pounded, her chest tightening with the sudden weight of that realization. He wasn’t refusing her! he simply didn’t understand the game she was playing. The unspoken shift from violence to something more. He was lost and confused by her signals not out of disinterest, but because he had never been shown what they meant.

A deep, frustrated snarl rumbled in her chest, her lips pulling back in a silent growl. Why hadn’t she realized it sooner? It made sense now, the way he kept pushing, kept fighting without ever shifting into what she wanted. She’d been expecting something he couldn’t give, at least not yet...not without her showing him. The way he fought, the way he held himself, he seemed so capable... so intense.

Is that something she wanted to do? Here? Like this?

How could she show him what to do if she had never done it herself? Blind leading the blind. But she did have experience, that had to be something?

For a moment, her gaze softened, the fire in her eyes flickering as she looked at him with something that wasn’t quite pity but wasn’t far from it either. She wondered how long it had been this way for him. Always fighting, always struggling, always yearning but never knowing what lay beyond the violence, beyond the hunger. She didn’t want to stop, didn’t want to pull back, but it wasn’t just about breaking him anymore. It would be about guiding him, about giving him something more than this endless brutal dance.

A wicked smile curved her lips, a mix of feral hunger and something almost tender, almost amused. “Redrum,” she rasped, her voice a low, sultry growl. “Do you really think this is all there is?” she said extremely low in a whisper. As if asking the question for herself, thinking out loud. Maybe just maybe.

The only issue was that Enyo did not have the answers she needed. She couldn't possibly continue without it.

For now she would focus on one thing, winning.

She shoved him, her teeth snapping at his muzzle, her eyes blazing with fierce fire. She pushed harder, her jaws clamping around the side of his neck, her fangs sinking into his fur, holding him down, forcing him into the dirt beneath them.

The taste of his blood filled her mouth, and she felt a surge of triumph. Her breath came in ragged, shallow gasps. She could feel his body trembling beneath hers, his muscles quaking with exhaustion as much as hers did, and she held him there, her grip unyielding, her eyes locked on his. She had won. She had taken her place as the victor in their brutal dance.

But as she held him there, even as she reveled in her victory, the confusion lingered, a nagging thought at the back of her mind. He hadn’t understood. He hadn’t known what she wanted, what she had tried to give him. And now, as she looked down at him, at the wildness in his eyes, the hunger that still burned there. She felt a strange and unexpected feeling of something she couldn’t quite name. She was hungry, but it seemed she would not eat as she had desired.

Was it disappointment?

Enyo wasn't sure, she didn't really want to know either. But she did know she wanted to kiss him for some odd reason. This urge would be ignored or more so denied.

"Red, you...", she trailed breathlessly. Her large frame rising and her chest huffed in an attempt to catch up "You are impressive. If you ever need me for anything.. don't be shy. Find me." Perhaps he didn't know now but he would know someday. Even if the opportunity passed, he would know one day and look back and realize. The War Queen was sure of it.



"SPEECH"

Redrum’s body shook violently under the weight of Enyo’s words, the chaotic surge in his blood intensifying as she taunted him with the confidence he couldn’t fully grasp. His muscles spasmed uncontrollably as he clung to the familiar surge of power that came with his bites, the tearing of flesh, the taste of blood—but her words cut deeper than any wound.

“Never... had... you,” he stammered between sharp, broken breaths, his voice rasping against her fur. His mind raced, struggling to connect the meaning of her words with the violent dance they were caught in. She wasn’t breaking. She wasn’t shattering beneath him like the others. Instead, she was... accepting? But not submitting. No, there was no submission in her, only a dark pull that confused him more.

Her smirk, her damned confidence, twisted something raw and ugly inside him. He wanted to tear into her more, to force the break, to feel the moment she would crack beneath his weight. But she didn’t. Her body moved with his, pressed into him with that same relentless resistance that made his mind whirl.

“What—.... Speak plainly— Enyo.” he growled low, voice breaking between his uneven breaths, frustration bleeding into his movements. She was pushing him, pulling him into something he couldn’t name, something beyond the blood and violence that was his only language. His body convulsed again, spasms shaking his limbs as he bit harder, searching for something—anything—that made sense. Her scent filled his senses, the mix of blood and dominance clouding his thoughts, yet something still felt wrong. He was missing something.

Redrum’s golden eyes flickered with confusion, his muscles twitching beneath her as she shoved him back, teeth clamping around his neck with brutal precision. The earth pressed cold against his back as her weight bore down on him, forcing him into submission in a way that didn’t come naturally to him. His breath hitched, the ragged growl in his throat tapering off into a frustrated snarl as he tried to process what had just happened.

Her fangs held him there, her triumph unmistakable, yet her words left him tangled in a web of confusion. His body trembled beneath hers, not from exhaustion, but from the sheer chaos ripping through his mind. She had won. But why did it feel like more than that? What was she asking of him? His muscles jerked, his limbs spasming as if they couldn’t reconcile the shift from dominance to whatever this was.

Do you really think this is all there is? she whispered, the question wrapping around his mind like a trap he couldn’t escape. All of what? He didn’t know. Redrum’s breath came in shallow bursts, his body still shaking beneath her as the fire in his eyes flickered with both fury and something else—something unformed. She was offering him something, but he couldn’t see it, couldn’t grasp what she was trying to show him.

Her final words lingered in his mind, twisting like a dagger between his thoughts. Impressive. She called him impressive. Find her? For what? His gaze flicked up to hers, wild and unsteady, the hunger still gnawing at him, but now tainted with a new, strange need to understand. He didn’t speak. Couldn’t. His voice was lost somewhere between the spasms that tore through him and the storm of confusion that clouded his mind.

As Enyo released him, rising to her feet, Redrum lay there for a moment longer, staring up at the dark sky, his breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps. The world felt off-kilter, the violent energy that usually consumed him now tangled in the strange realization that there was more. More to this—more to her—more to whatever it was she had been trying to give him.

But for now, all he knew was the taste of blood, the trembling in his limbs, and the confusion — the heat and hunger that lingered in his body still.


"Murder"

Enyo stood over him, her chest heaving, the coppery taste of his blood still fresh on her tongue. She watched him writhe beneath her, his body trembling, his breaths jagged and uneven. It almost made her worry, he looked like he was in pain. He was still so caught up in the violence, that he couldn’t see past it. Couldn’t understand what she was really offering. And for the first time, she realized that it wasn’t his fault.

Her gaze softened with understanding. He didn’t know. He couldn’t know. An experience, a lesson he hadn’t yet learned. And it wasn’t her place to teach him. Not like this.

She leaned down, close enough that her breath fanned against his ear, her voice a low, velvety purr that carried both promise and restraint. "Redrum," she murmured, her tone gentle but firm. "I’m not going to explain it to you."

She let the words hang in the air for a moment, waiting for his eyes to flick toward her. She smiled then, a slow, knowing smile that tugged at the corner of her lips, her eyes gleaming with that same relentless fire that had driven them through the fight. Without breaking eye contact, Enyo bent down slowly, her breath hot against his face as she lowered her muzzle to his. She hesitated for the briefest of moments, letting the tension build before pressing her lips softly to his blood-slicked fur. It wasn’t a rough, possessive gesture like the bite of their fight. This was different. Gentler, more deliberate. Welcoming. She lingered there for a second longer, the warmth of her tongue brushing over his cheek before she pulled back.

"When you figure it out," she continued, her voice laced with a dangerous edge, "when you realize what it is you really want from me... find me." Her fangs gleamed as she spoke, her tone both a challenge and an invitation, the promise of something more lingered in every word.

Her eyes searched his face. "You can have it," she whispered, her voice low and deliberate, "If you think this felt amazing. Just wait. There is a world I have yet to experience myself but I would want to try it with you." Her bloodied form cast a shadow over him, but her expression held no mockery, no frustration. Instead, there was only patience. A rare thing for her, but in that moment, it felt right.

"Remember, Redrum," she whispered, her voice a quiet hum against the night. "It’s yours when you’re ready. When you want it, truly want it. Not just my blood and our violence, but everything else too. So much we can create together. Until then..." She paused, her lips curving into that same wicked smile as she straightened up, towering over him once more. "I’ll be waiting."

With that, Enyo turned, her muscles aching but victorious, leaving him there with his confusion, his fury, and the new hunger she’d planted within him. He would come to her. Eventually. But only when he understood. And when he did, their next meeting would be on entirely different terms.

And when he did... well, she would be waiting.

"Go see Erebros to tend to your wounds. He is good at these things, I've given him plenty of practice!", she called out as she continued to walk away.




-- exit

"SPEECH"

CODE BY SIN