It was time. She had let the festival drag on as long as she could - all spring, with spars and races and everything and feasts, when her family had only ever had the one night of ecstasy. But the fun, the camaraderie, that had drawn the non-believers to the festival wasn't the reason behind it. It was this - the honor and love of the gods. She'd been sacrificing to them daily... deer, elk, young boar... and the beasts who bled their lifesblood for the gods went to the feasting, as was only right. But now the moon was full and ripe, and ready. She stepped out, breathing in the damp scent of the night-dew. Her gold-flecked gaze reflected the moon in disconcerting silver highlights. A low, eerie howl thrummed from her throat, a traditional song and call to gods and family alike to join her, to ready themselves. Tonight they would be as one family. OOC: Anyone is welcome to show up for whatever reason. Curiosity or whatever. Liquid timed to after the spars and races. The festival isn't over after this but this will be the last big thing, everything else will just be socializing and then it will be over when summer starts.

Awash in meditation Au?ra could feel her mind stretching against it's confines, spiraling higher as she sought reassurance from the gods that this was their will. Deep in the pit of her gut, in the essence of her physical self she felt fear. Cold, biting fear that froze her insides but she would not waiver. She was viking. She was prophetess. She was brave and noble and held so much love in her breast for her sister and family that she would do whatever it took to protect them. She courted the fear. Accepted it. It was a small part of her being and far from the sum of her. It was the seed of her mortality. Eerie blue eyes opened to take in the full moon that glowed so brilliantly above them. Man? she breathed softly. You cast your gaze upon this gathering and we are thankful for your light. Who will be sent to guide me?. The moon made no answer but the gods rarely spoke in the harsher tongues of mortals, rather they spoke in the strength of the trees, the pulse of the animals, the range of the wind. She heard the call, the lone, ominous note of her sister. Both knew what had to be done. This was about securing the packs future and about things much larger than themselves. The three-legged seer took to her paws and made her way through the ebony pillars of trees that stretched into the sky above her. Lightning bugs winked at her and skittered on by and she took in everything, the scents, the feeling of the air in her lungs, every little thing that meant she was alive. Tears threatened to kiss her eyes but she swallowed them down. This was not the time for that. She would be strong for her sister. She would be strong for her family. Au?ra stepped to move along side her sister. To feel the heat of the other, to take in her scent, to feel the comfort of that bond one last time. "Katja? Jeg er Klar." "Speech"

Curiosity pushed the brute into action. The song that reached his ears was promising to say the least. He wasn't entirely sure what it was offering and that was his motivation. The whole festival was a curiosity, a novelty, and he had no memories with which to compare it to. Like a child, he found himself moving from thing to thing, sampling all the festival had to offer. Perhaps the thing he liked about it all was that even though the participants came from all over the place, they somehow came together and felt like a community. Honestly, it made the content-to-be-a-rogue rogue a little less content with his status. Padding towards Ebony's leader, Thor dipped his head in greeting, first to Katja and then to the other fae. "I must say, Lady Katja, that I have greatly enjoyed the festivities." And he had. It was something he had been needing - spending so much time with his family was getting a little stale. It was good for his girls, too. They needed to branch out and at least get a chance to make friends with someone who wasn't a relative. Sinking to his haunches, Thor waited for whatever he was here for to begin. Speech

Word about Ebony's festival had reached her a few weeks ago and Athena was intrigued with the idea. In fact she was almost positive her mate had attended at least part of the festivities. Unfortunately a leader's work is never done and she hadn't been able to get away from Bevroren long enough to attend herself. However, she had been wanting to pay a visit to one of her first allies for quite a while and finally she decided she would make the time to do it today. As she approached the Ebony borders her ears perked up and she heard Katja's call, pulling everyone in the area toward her. Athena wasn't sure if this was a pack meeting of sorts or perhaps something involved with the festival, but she hoped Katja wouldn't mind her dropping in. She moved through the Ebony territory at a light jog, moving toward the source of the howl till she finally spotted Katja, along with two wolves she wasn't familiar with. The Soeverein gave the dark woman a slight smile as she came to a halt in front of her, dipping her head in respect. "Katja, it's been far too long. I'm sorry I couldn't participate in your festival earlier, it's been quite hectic in Bevroren as of late. I've heard everything was fabulous." Athena glanced at the other two wolves, acknowledging them both with a small dip of her head before finding a seat several feet away. She settled in to watch Katja curiously, wondering what this gathering was for. Speech Thought

The brute walked quietly into the gathering. Sound had avoided the festival, too many wolves for his liking. Mostly he'd just stayed busy a hunter for the past few weeks and avoided interaction where at all possible. Alacritis was a nice place. But there was just so damned much going on. It took some getting used to but for the most part the brute was able to simply walk and avoid, clinging fast to the shadows and steering around any overly friendly wolves that might want to interact with him. It was his nature, after all. Interacting properly required you to feel. And Sound still wasn't ready to feel yet. This much was made clear by his ever empty expression. His tail did not sway behind him, but rather, hung there without emotion or life. His head was upright, and eats standing straight, but his mouth was nothing but a expressionless line telling nothing. And most importantly where his eyes. His eyes where the same dull yellow void of nothingness that they had always been. No anger, no fear, No Joy. His steps where measured and even, his shoulders untensed. Sound was not here to be seen. He was simply here to see. For all this time, he knew so utterly little about Katja. This was the marked ending of her glorious festival. If ever there was a moment for a card to be played, it would be now. But as he finally found a spot and took his seat, something went off in his mind. There was a reason Sound chose not to feel. He'd seen some shit. Held witness to a multitude of things unpleasant. Something about the air that came off the two women before him didn't feel right. He betrayed none of this, but it was still there. He felt something in his gut telling him that he shouldn't be setting where he was. After a moment of close observation, his lips parted as he mumbled to himself under his breath. "I don't like this..." Held Accountable For Your Sins

None of the wolves here, save for those in his family, had any idea why they were celebrating. It was not merely for fun, and it was certainly not just to bring the packs together for a season of frivolity and camaraderie -- it was so much more than that. This was a celebration for their gods, for Thor and for Odin, for Magni and or Freyja; for all of the ?sir and the Vanir. As with all festivals, there was only one thing left to be done. And so he wouldn't dare ignore his sister's call, as she summoned those who remained here to join them for the end of the festival, and for the bl?t.


He was dizzy with excitement at the prospect of what was to come. Would the visitors of Ebony even know what was to happen? How many would turn away in disgust and fear? Kapras?us felt drunk with elation as he made his way toward the small group that had gathered. His posture was relaxed and he found a grin growing on his muzzle as he aimed to bump Katja's shoulder with his nose. His gaze would search the darkness, finding many strangers to him still lingered here.. and finally they found Au?ra, and he would shift to stand beside her. Though he had never been close to her, now was not the time to dwell on their differences, but rather the time to be one as family. "Jeg elsker deg," he told her softly, brushing his face lightly against her cheek, a surprisingly serious tone to his voice despite the elation he felt. "Ikke v?r redd."

TABLE + CODING BY TIFF

WARNING: Kaprasíus is extremely prone to violence, including maim fights & character claiming.
Katja is also welcome in any and all of his threads, without warning.
He also has a bush viper companion named Jǫrmungandr.

CALLISTO Walk | Talk | Think The festival was finally coming to an end. As far as Callisto was concerned, it was about time. She was eager for her home to go back to being the quiet, isolated little place that it had always been, to be able to wander about bothering Max about plants without possibly running into a stranger within half of their territory. She fully enjoyed her chosen densite within the Steppes, but having confined herself to the location for much of the festivities she was beginning to miss having access to the lake, knowing there were plants there that grew more readily than they did elsewhere within Ebony. But it was all going to be over now; she could celebrate that. She paid little to no attention to the strange people in her home as she walked quietly amongst them, only casting them cursory glances as she noted there were so few of them. Had many of the guests decided to leave early before the closing of the festival then? It was almost a happy enough notion to sent her tail about wagging with relief but she reigned in the desire, instead directing her attention upon her leader and those who stood closest around her. The significance of what was to come was entirely lost to her and likely she would still not understand, but for the time being Callisto was happy enough to sit here with her pack and these few strangers to celebrate finally having her home back to herself again. Image by Maka.

Truthfully, Xae hadn't mingled much. He had planned on it, planned on helping Abaven increase its allies. But he'd hung back, observed quietly, as he generally did. He found himself constantly questioning himself, and had felt unusually nervous and even a bit shy. After all, he had never been witness to so many bodies in one place. It made him wary, like everyone was going to turn on him - though the logical part of his brain, of course, knew that that was highly improbable. And to prove that part of his brain right, everyone had pretty much ignored him. He had trailed after Bass for some time, probably looking like some lost puppy. He hoped it hadn't irritated Bass too much, or made him regret ever bringing the Vor in the first place. Xae really didn't have much of an excuse, either. He certainly wouldn't tell his leader that it was because he was shy! How pathetic. After a while, not wanting to seem as nervous as he felt, he'd left the Azat's side. But he still hadn't conversed with anyone. He watched as Ebony's leader stepped into the light, her dark head tilting back and a welcoming, excited call met his ears. Curious, Xae picked himself up and trotted closer. He sat where he assumed the front would be - a rare thing for him, but, if Bass were still here, he wanted to seem more confident than he really felt. As she finished her summoning, the pale eyed male turned to watch as more wolves appeared, all circling the charcoal Drottning. He turned his curious gaze to her, watching as another female came to stand beside her. She spoke something in a language Xae did not understand, but something in her tone gave him a strange, joyful and yet melancholy feeling. The she-wolves now held the russet boy's attention, his head cocked as he peered on, eyes bright with curiosity. "Speech" Thought

Auora was swift to her side, the healer as beautiful and graceful as ever despite having lost a leg to the ravages of the earthquake. "I am ready" she said, and though Katja longed to cry "I am not ready" she merely nodded solemnly, the clump of emotions so unfamiliar and unwelcome knotting painfully within her. "Kan ?sene gi deg en rask og behagelig reise for ? bli med dem innenfor sine haller," she murmured to her sister. Others were gathering now, some approaching her to speak before moving to the crowd though she could say nothing, merely nod in acknowledgement of their greetings. Among them were allies, packmembers, strangers, and the sole other Finnvi to appear was her cousin Kapra, who bumped her affectionately and spoke with fervent seriousness to Auora. She was pleased to know there was at least one here who could appreciate the solemnity of the situation. Her eyes roamed the crowd quizzically for her aunt and her youngest cousin but they were nowhere to be found and time passed swiftly. She could not await their appearance, yet it was unnerving that they chose to be absent. Her gaze sought first the prize behind her, a young fawn born early that spring, large for a fawn and knocked insensible and held with vines entangled messily around his slim legs. "Wolves of Alacritis," she spoke suddenly, swinging her head around toward the crowd once more as she waited for silence to fall after her words cracked through the air. "This festival marked the equinox and celebrated the return of spring after a long winter. But spring has drawn to a close, and the moon has risen on summer once more, and so it is time for the festival to reach its end." She turned, padded to the fawn to place a paw upon it's shoulder as she once more faced the group. "Amongst my family, and perhaps even amongst yours, a sacrifice to the gods is customary on the first full moon of summer." She leaned down, laved with her tongue on the big fawn's fur, a ritual cleansing that might look to some as though she were tasting, or soothing the young deer, before latching her teeth into its throat and with a swift motion drawing back and opening the big veins there. Only then did the fawn struggle, but despite its size Katja held it easily until its movements stopped. The black tip of her tail appeared somehow darker as it dragged through the blood pooled beneath the beast. "Heil Odin og Frig." She flicked her tail, the motion sprinkling blood across the ground she had chosen for this. "Heil, Freyr og Freyja." Again she flicked her tail, this time allowing the blood to spray across her cousin's face. "Heil det altseende Heimdallr." Again the motion, speckles of blood appearing on her sister's face. She hesitated then but the ritual must continue. She flicked her tail across the watching wolves, small sprinkles of blood touching those gathered. "Heil til ?sir, og Vanir." She swallowed hard, but her voice rang clearly once more first in Norsk, then in the common tongue that all gathered could know what was said, the words of ritual required despite the sure knowledge she held. It must be made clear. All must come willingly. "Hvem av oss skal st? villig til ? b?re ut gaver til hallene av gudene? Hvem samlet her vil snakke v?re ord til gudene s? de kan vite av v?re behov? Who among us will stand willingly to carry out gifts to the halls of the gods? Who gathered here will speak our words to the gods that they may know of our needs?" ""

Pawsteps carried the blackened temptress through many lands, barely skirting around the pack borders, purposely allowing her limbs to rub against the foliage that marked the borders. She couldn't help it; it was too fun, teasing the warriors like that! But a howl caught the young woman off guard, her dark eyes peering into the direction the call came from. It seemed to come from a pack that Sri had heard was called 'Ebony.' They'd had a festival, hadn't they? All spring, so Sri heard. With a soft hum, her lips peeling back to reveal her canines in a twisted, amused grin, the charcoal fae turned and began to move lazily toward Ebony. She had meant to attend - after all, she did love to mingle - but, well, she'd been rather busy. When she arrived, wolves had gathered around two females. Her brow arching in curiosity, Sri Simin moved closer, though remained on the outskirts of the gathering. She watched with curious eyes as the darker of the two females spoke in a strange language, followed by words that Sri did understand. She remained silent, not wanting to raise her paw for something silly.

They rolled in like the tide on a moonless night. The gentle chattering soft and content like waves lapping the shoreline. Piercing blue eyes lingered on the strangers, wolves foreign to the ways of her sister and family and she wondered how they might react to the events that would unfold. But either way Au?ra had spoken with the norns. She was well aware of her fate and her duty to her family and none could sway her otherwise. She would greet her destiny with courage in the face of the greatest of all mortal fears. Katja called for volunteers to step. Willing messangers who were brave enough to step beyond the veil into the hidden realms. The question was asked in native tongue and Au?ra couldn't help but feel that the message was for her and only for her. A last private conversation between two sisters amongst a throng of strangers. The answer would not surprise the Queen of Ebony. Au?ra stepped forward, graceful despite only standing on three legs. "Jeg frivillig. Jeg er klar til ? oppfylle min skjebne og ta v?re bekymringer til gudene. Katja ... min kj?re lilles?ster. Fra oase av ?ndene skal jeg v?ke over deg. Jeg vil aldri forlate din side igjen." What words could she offer to comfort, Katja? This was the greatest test of faith and most of all Au?ra asked Katja to have faith in her sister. This was her decision after all and it was not one made lightly. There would be fear yes, there would be pain yes? but there would be relief, and there would be hope. Were they not vikings? Did they not seek worlds yet unseen by kindred eyes? Was the journey Au?ra was about to embark on not the greatest voyage one could take? "N?, la det skje." "Speech"

It was not unexpected for her words to draw forth Auora, but Katja's silver eyes still closed briefly against the surge of unfamiliar fear. Auora's words washed over her... "I volunteered. I am ready to fulfill my destiny and take our concerns to the gods. Katja ... my dear little sister. From oasis of spirits I will watch over you. I will never leave your side again." Words spoken in norsk, a language few out of her family had bothered to learn beside their native German and the common tongue, let alone the strangers surrounding them. It lent a surreal air over the interaction, as though time had stopped just for them to speak. "Auora..." came the whisper of a word from her black marked jaw, but Auora spoke. "Now, let it happen." She ached at the words but her eyes, when they opened, were steadfast and accepting. "Let it be known that this woman, Au?ra Finnvi, has claimed this honor of her own free will. May the gods be pleased with her." She licked away the blood on Auora's face, the ritual cleansing taking on a tone of tenderness, a last goodbye, that while hidden from the crowd would translate to the one wolf who knew her best. "Jeg elsker deg," she spoke softly, for Auora's ears alone for this was not part of the ritual. "Jeg vil se deg igjen n?r jeg bli med deg i Valhalla." She pressed gently with her muzzle on Auora's shoulders, guiding the older woman. Auora obligingly tucked her feet beneath herself and reclined upon the raised earth, lifting her own muzzle as Katja's parted jaws touched her throat. Time stopped then for Katja - like the very dust motes froze upon the air, the silver glow of the moon chilling the air. It was as though she had stepped out of her body, and was watching herself frozen there. Is this right? she cried to the full, listening moon. Yes, the breeze whispered back to her. The gods would not ask a thing if it was easy... She came back to herself in a rush. Auora would scold her as if she were a timid child, and rightly, to hesitate so. She gave no respect to her sister or their gods by delaying. Her jaws closed over the big veins of the throat and felt the life-heat fill her tongue with an iron tang. She pulled back in a single swift motion to allow the offering to pour onto the stones. The light filled her eyes til they glowed silver as she raised her face to the moon, sending prayers winging along the light-path to the gods. Freyja, guide her and shelter her within your hall. Let all be joyous, for she would have it be so. Care for her. Love her as I do. This was not done in vain.

One For The Money ? Escape The Fate

Her words fell across his ears in that language that he hadn't heard in such a long time. The last time it was upon his ears it had been from the maw of a wolf much like himself. The son of a fekked up drug addict. A solid white wolf named Desacree. A wolf that had also just wanted the world to leave him alone to be busy keeping his mind off the things he could fix. And the words that she spoke in that tongue took him by surprised. He wasn't sure he'd heard them right at first. But when she spoke them again in the common tongue, he could not deny what she was asking. She was asking for a sacrifice! This was something that posed an imdiate threat to Sound's carefully and attentively build facade of being without feeling or emotion. At once his heart rate quickened. At once it became a pounding drum beat inside of his chest. Though his lips did not part, he bit down hard. His mind began to race with her words, unable to understand. He didn't understand them at all. He didn't follow this believe. Underneath the layers and layers of carefully built walls behind which Sound hid within himself, there was a creature with a very fine and clear cut code of living. And what this woman proposed was something beyond him. It was something that he just couldn't digest. It was a taboo to him that he had no desire to even tread near. But he fought. He fought hard to contain himself. With luck yet, no one would step forth for this madness. But he was wrong. Someone did. Katja's sister. Auora. She stepped forward boldly and offered herself as a tribute to the 'Gods'. And with her words another layer of walls came crashing down. And for the first time in a long time, he felt the monster. For the first time sense he had chosen to live the way he had, Sound bore witness to his true self. It had smelled the weakness in his defenses and thrashed forward violently trying to leap out and take control. This facade that Sound wore was an attempt at fitting into this world with at least some decency. It was the product of his longing to just stop hurting. To not involve himself with the wrong ways of this world and let them have their petty heart breaking ways of life. But laid underneath that was a creature wanted to wholeheartedly be a monster. A creature that wanted see the look on the face of the wicked and watch it as he proved them wrong. A creature that wanted to prove that his conviction was stronger that any others. He wanted more than anything to be the embodiment of the world's anger for all that went on on it. And that reason was the exact same reason why he chose to exist the way he did. As endeared as he was to that concept, he was also terrified that if he gave in to it, it would consume him and he would never return from the monster. But here and now, fear was not enough to stop him. Fear was not enough to keep his walls secure, that monster thrashing against his confinement, causing the walks to tremble all the way to there foundation, that was, Sound himself. His muscles lit on fire under his skin and fur. His eyes fixed on Katja, a twitch manifesting in his left. Suddenly his teeth began to chatter as his snout dropped down, aiming his nose more and more at the earth underneath. Then, at once, his maw parted enough as a hiss of an exhale left his maw like steam rising from heat. At once he wanted to dive up there and place himself between the two. He wanted to intervene. He wanted to stop this before it could even happen. And had it been anyone but Auora, he just might of. But it was something dark and black that stayed his paw. Cruelty perhaps that stayed it. But it wasn't easy. No. Because this was a violation, in his eyes, especially because he didn't believe in Katja's Gods. This was a violation of one of his most important rules. You Don't Get To Decide When It's Your Time To Leave. And the word Cruelty came to mind for a very specific reason as the condition of his head just fell for to floor. And that reason was very apparent as she very gingerly began to bring her jaws in for the fea's throat. Because as she did so, the monster shattered his way free of another level of his confinement, indicating that Sound was waging much the loosing battle. He wanted to turn away and run, he didn't want to see, because he knew that it would cause him to once again reject his soul and let the anger, the madness of the anger, consume him again. But at the same time, he couldn't, because he wanted this. He wanted Katja to make her greatest mistake ever. And so the voice yelled it. ?Don't move. Let the bitch kill her fucking sister! Let her murder her own flesh and blood for some stupid prick with a thunderbolt! Kill Her And Live With What You've Done You Dumb Motha' Fucker!? And then, with a sudden swiftness, her jaws closed and she ripped out her sister's throat and blood spewed all over the ground. In that short moment, even the voice in his head was quiet. Not a sound to be heard from the crowd save for Katja desperately taking to a sobby little prayer to deaf ears. And then all at once, the last wall came down and Sound was finally free. That box that he hide his crumpled little soul in came flying open and in some kind of final stand, that crumpled little piece of a soul came out furiously, erupting like a mighty inferno of flames. This was who Sound really was, something he normally hid from the world with good reason. At once his snout came back up as his eyes went ablaze, not leaving Katja for a second. A furious bellow of laughter came roaring from his maw, drenched in madness. His caution was thrown to the wind as his voice kicked in with the language that came easiest to him. A tongue that Katja had heard before from another who bore Zaraidd in their veins same as he. ?И это делается ! Вы не можете взять его обратно сейчас ! Посмотрите, что вера твоя спасла вы делаете! Гордитесь ли вы себя !?? No fear. No concern for what anyone thought of him. No desires for anything other than to watch the world burn down around him. This was it. This was what laid underneath the carefully constructed false front. This was Him. Sound, The Blood Painted Canvas. His insides where on fire. His blood was pumping and his heart racing, adrenaline flooding through him as he settled into something wicked, a very pleased grin on his maw, suddenly his body language was different. He was no longer loose and neutral. His tail was held up behind him as his ears sat on end as he lowered his rump into a seated position. His broad shoulders where held up proudly rather than sagging. It was finally time for him to stand up once again and strut like the hellion he was. No longer would he cling to neutrality. Now he would once again declare a line in the sand for his beliefs and not allow anyone else to make him think differently and show on reserve in telling others that they where WRONG. It was time to be hated again. Oh, how he loved to be hated. After remaining for only a moment more, he decided that there was nothing else for him to see here. The deed was done, the mistake was made. All there was now was to watch as Katja came to realize that she'd made her bed. And Now... Now she had to sleep in it. All by herself. Without the only friend she'd had. Without her sister. And know that she'd been the one to kill her. It was poetic. It was a crime, sentence, and punishment all wrapped up into one. And so, with that, he rose to his paws and, grin still on his face and eyes never having left, took a bow to his alphess. A long, slow, and deliberate bow. Then, he turned and walked away. Leave the little vikings to their glorious ignorance. There was a reason they where all fekking dead. Well, woops, looks like time missed a spot. But not for long. At this rate, they'll be gone soon enough being busy ripping each other's throats out for honor and demonstrations of blind, thoughtless faith. Are yoU rEadY, LeTS GO!!

The brute would fall silent as the proceedings got underway. A feeling of uneasy settled over him, like he was about to witness something he wouldn't understand. Katja would begin to speak, her voice fading in and out of the language he was accustomed to hearing. There was a beauty to the way she spoke, a solemn conviction that made him believe he was witnessing something sacred. It was a ritual of sorts, he gathered that much. The brute wasn't one for religion. He placed no stock in it, believing in only what his eyes could see. That didn't mean that he looked down on others for their faith, merely accepting that others handled the world differently, so when the ceremony took an unexpected turn, all Thor could do was watch with bated breath. He resisted the urge to feel repulsed. While he couldn't agree with what was being done, had he not taken life for so much less? This fae gave her life willingly and for a purpose far greater than herself. Who was he to disagree? He respected her decision, respected Katja's resolve. It took a great deal of strength to do what she was about to do. Could he do it? If it were demanded of him, could he sacrifice the life of one who meant so much to him? If Baldur was before him, would he be able to take his life? He didn't know. What he did know was that Katja possessed a tremendous amount of faith. Of this he was in awe. The moment came and Thor was left with a paralyzing numbness. A ringing settled in his ears, like he'd been hit with a powerful blast from all sides. It chilled him to the bone, sending shivers like lightning down his spine. He found his head lowering, his eyes casting downward, as an unmatchable respect overcame him. If the roles were reversed, he didn't believe himself capable of laying down his life. Gross laughter drew the brute out of his revery. Slowly his head would turn to cast uncomprehending eyes on the one who dared to disrespect the choices being made. He didn't understand what the other male was saying, but his tone was enough. Instantly Thor's blood began to boil, rage pushing him to his paws. He pursued the other brute, quickly closing the distance between them. "Hey," he barked gruffly, hackles lifting as he attempted come up behind the brute, "How dare you make a mockery of their sacrifice?" No, the little bastard should pay for his disrespect. Without warning, he lunged forward, his ears flattening and his eyes narrowing as his decision to punish the other male for his transgressions solidified. His muscles would tense, shoulders rolling forward to scrunch up the skin around his neck. Thor's toes would spread as he moved to dig them into the ground and propel himself forward. Attempting to come up along side New's left side, Thor would throw himself to his right side, hoping to ram his right shoulder into the other brute's ribs, just behind his shoulder. His aim was to unsettle him, to throw him off his paws. Using his tail for balance, Thor would raise the appendage and hold it stiffly out behind him. Simultaneously, Thor's jaws would part, lips curling back to expose reaching fangs as he strove to rip into the lower part of New's neck, just in front of his forward facing shoulder. The bastard deserved to be punished and if Auora's gods cared anything about her and her sacrifice, they'd let him take this fool's tongue. Fight: For removal of tongue Round: 1 of ? Attacks: Using his right shoulder to ram into New's left side, just behind his ribs while using his teeth to tear into the lower part of New's neck, just in front of his forward facing shoulder. Defenses: Raised hackles, flattened ears, narrowed eyes, tensed muscles, shoulders rolled forward, spread toes, curled lips, raised tail Injuries: Speech

ooc: sneaking this in before the fight, and Somnium thread times heck yes!

Quivering breath slipped from her parted jaws, manifesting as mist before her eyes. How strange it seemed. The very act of breathing, the sensation of air flowing in and out of her was heightened in her intense awareness. This simple act taken for granted so many years?. soon she would break her last breath. Each passing of air in and out pounded in her skull. Reality was dawning quickly on her, heart racing. Blue eyes closed softly, a hushed prayer to the gods. For their presence and indeed she could feel them. Was sure of it. In the racing of her heart, in the light of the moon, in the mist that formed among her breath. For so long she'd walked not only in the world of the living but the world of her visions and at last they were going to merge into one and she would be able to continue to serve her family and her pack. A three-legged, physical being was of little use to a viking clan. But a messenger for the gods? Truly, there was no greater service than for her blood to be shed for those she cared most for. Au?ra would not let them down. She new many would be shocked but they were either faithless or they could not understand the depths of her love. Au?ra felt her sister's tongue on her face. The warmth spreading through her body. The trust, absolute and unbreakable. A small part of her felt the sting of guilt in asking her sister to do this. There was cruelty in this act there was no denying, but spring blossomed from winter's cold bosom. From sacrifice would bloom blessing. Au?ra smiled softly, moving to nuzzle her sister. "Jeg elsker deg ogs?. Katja, Jeg er stolt av deg." They would meet again she knew it. Au?ra's legs folded gracefully beneath her as her sister's jaws moved to her throat. There was no one else here. It might as well have been empty for all Au?ra could focus on was her sister. It was as though the two of them were separated from the world in time that flowed suddenly slowly. Wide blue eyes sought to meet Katja's as she smiled reassuringly. It was the duty of a big sister to look after the younger. Admittedly something Au?ra felt she'd failed to do. But that ended here. She would keep a celestial eye on her sister from this point on and for always. And when death finally claimed her sister, Au?ra would be the first to welcome her. A breeze shifted through the trees, carrying with it the scent of the ocean. There. There in that subtlest of gestures was the presence of the gods. She was to journey now?. Jaws snapped shut around her throat. Pain burst through her skull as her breath jerked sharply from her lungs. She could feel the blood pouring from her unguarded throat. Warmth spread all around her and she marveled at the sensation, vision blurring as her sight filled with moonlight. A rush of air slipped over her tongue and into her lungs as her body felt suddenly cold, her mind swimming in confusion but only for a moment. Katja. Katja was here. Breath slipped out of her body, gliding over her tongue with a slight tingle before her vision went suddenly dark. Somewhere, in the distance, she swore she heard a raven... "Speech"

Take no offense in this because I will ask it of everyone I ever fight with. You are just the first. Make sure your argument is strictly IC and not with me.

What is a Body: Words as Weapons - Seether
What is a Soul: Nobody's Prayin' For Me - Seether
He was Alone: Hurt - Johnny Cash
And So: One For The Money - Escape The Fate

What was a body? A body was a beautiful and tear inspiring machine. A collection of muscle fibers. A system of joints and tendons to act upon those joints. A central system of organs that all served a purpose and all worked tirelessly around the clock without rest. A brain and senses that worked and could be honed down to am amazing state of sensory awareness. This brain able to possess data at an outstanding rate, some faster than others. It was all a fierce and horrible combinations. Something that could double both as constructive power, and a deadly weapons. A body was a mighty gift. Because the composition of a body made it something that came together as a miracle. There was only one act that lead to the creation of a body, and that act was capable of millions of results. Genetic strands coming together in a seemingly infinite number of possible combinations. By the statistics, every single living soul's life being theirs was improbable. This is why Sound was not a Godless man. Two parents had no say in what their kids turned out to be. What they where given was ether a gift or a test. Life itself one grand trial. And so, a body was potential. Beautiful potential. Comprised together like a machine, constructed and designed with a function. But machines could not withstand the might of a body. A body was never ceasing. Even in a state of rest, in functioned. Other machines could never hope to manage this. Without total shut down on occasion to cool off they failed. They tore themselves to pieces. A body could withstand this. It was awesome and mighty potential for both great and terrible things. It was a domain for the Soul. And with this domain you had a chance lay your paws upon the earth and attempt to be and do. To take this potential and make use of it. It was the most mighty of gifts. And it was a burden. You didn't own your body, you where given it as a gift. And so to not make use of this amazing machine was to waste that gift. You where to do with this something grand. You didn't have to change the world. No. But a body did in fact have that ability if someone would just fucking apply it properly! But at the very least you had to survive. This was the rule that was in violation. You had to survive your appointed years and reach your resting place where the body that you had been given on a loan had been used up and finally stopped completely. Anything short of this was wasting the gift you where given. Your life Was. Not. YOURS! It was Not. You Decision to make as to when you get to leave! You where given this amazing domain with which to house your Soul, it was wrong to just throw it away. And yet so many had. For such little reasons. No. If you where to fight, you where to fight for Life! You where to fight to LIVE! What is a Soul? A soul is the composition of everything YOU were. Without the soul a body was simply that. A body. The existence of a soul was caused the machine of the body to stop being counted as a machine. Your soul was the only thing you had that you actually owned yourself. And a soul was useless without a body. A soul was everything you felt. Your soul was comprised of your emotions, you beliefs, you ideals. The strength of your Soul was determined by your Conviction. Your ability wrap yourself around what you believed and not allow anything or anyone to deter you from it. And it was shaped by what you experienced in this body you where for a few years. And it was this principle that made Sound Right. Unarguably and undeniably Right. Because he'd witnessed death. And in his younger years Death was something that surrounded him. Emptiness. That was the only thing that Death brought. Katja would learn this. Everyone who'd tied themselves to Auroa would learn this. A close friend of Sound's killed himself. His mother left him. He lost his unborn child and the woman he wanted to die beside. And on top of that he held Zaraidd in his veins. A standing rule of the wasteland was that you had to be held accountable for your actions. Well Sound was that accountance. His soul was the pent up anger of four generations of attempting to make this world a better place and failing. He was not to blame for the way he was. His soul was strictly the fault of the world. If anyone wanted to argue the point he would meet them head long with his own proof. As he did have proof. He WAS proof. Proof that death was only the creator of emptiness. Because death had left him very empty. And alone. He was alone with the only thing he had. His inherited anger of four generations of failing and simply accepting it. Though it was in his blood, he was not a holder of the highest pedigree of being Zaraidd. He was a wasteland child. And his father taught him everything he'd known. Everything the old man had witnessed about the world. And once he'd stepped out into it, all the lessons where only confirmed. Cruelly and mercilessly confirmed. No one wanted the world to be any better. No one wanted to live. No one with the power to stop the chaos actually wanted to do so. Everyone just wanted to dance in the dust of the wasteland. Leaving Sound alone. Those that came before Sound where much better creatures than him. Even his distant cousin Newol was a much better creature than him. But Newol had started off alone. Sound hadn't. He'd gotten comfortable then lost everything. Once. Twice. Three times. Again and again and again this world just PROVED it had no interest in being a bright place. And it had made a monster. The world made a monster, and now the world would have to live with a monster. It was Fair. And the only ones who would argue the point would be the ones who acted out of fear, with no stomach to stand up and face what they've done. It tore him apart inside. That's what madness felt like. Madness was everything inside of you being ripped apart in a hundred different directions. It was longing desperately for something that couldn't, and wouldn't ever be. Knowing that for so long your name had toiled in the dirt to try and grow good seed. And for so long the efforts had been with no meaning. The only significance that the Zaraidd name had earned where being tough sons of bitches. For refusing to Die of go away. And Sound was cut from the same stone. But there was just so much madness... So much noise created in the heart that wouldn't leave him alone. And that madness was again, not his fault. He was not to blame for his actions. They where the fault of Bolconine. The fault of the man with the thistle scared on his chest, a symbol of pain that he bore like he was proud of it. It was the fault of the destruction of the Pack of the Fishermen. It was Katja's fault. It was Auroa's Fault. It was the way his soul was. And he hated it. But again we fall back on that lesson. You can't hate something unless you love it. And he did love it. It made him feel alive, the ability to encompass himself in anger. To wear it like a blanket and hide in it's safety. To allow one emotion to drive out everything, even joy. All because it also drove out the pain. The pain of knowing that he was apart of a grand and vicious cycle that was never ending and that could not be changed. Sound was the Grim spawn of all those Fabled Riddles In The Dark. And every one of them a beautiful story that fell short of a happy ending. A sick play that has been preformed to a hundred different tunes of We All Go Home With Bleeding Hearts. And he was sick of it. And he hated it. But again, you can't hate something unless you love it. And So, Thor unknowingly had charged out to Meet Madness. Sound was no killer. His hatred for death prevented this. But he had a unquestionable obsession with blunt force trauma. Like the mad love making of a young, willing, and able new couple. It came with being used to pain, he supposed. So the man's advance was something of a stout shot of adrenaline through his body. It he was trying to catch the brute off guard then perhaps he shouldn't have been so hasty to announce his annoyance with the mad dog's reaction to the little viking display. What he called sacrifice, Sound called pointless death. And Sound was right. That was the conviction that he carried. If conviction was comparable to a wall, then Sound had the conviction of a thirteen foot thick steel plate. The brute had yelled at Sound in his pursuit of him, and this was warning enough to someone who believed the whole world to be content with being shrouded in darkness. It was time enough to a quick mind. As his voice rang in the brute's ears, he knew at once he was there and approaching fast. And so again the madness screamed. And the anger once again encompassed everything that Sound was. As he came up on the male's left side, Sound had already had time to drop to a crouch, his eyes again on fire as his whole body light again on fire under his fur. The world faded out to him as his field of vision flooded with red. And at once he channeled all his malice to where he was strongest, at his hind legs, and dropped his head as low as he could, his snout almost aimed straight at the ground, to pull his neck underneath Thor's reach and kicked off with is powerful hind legs, so hard that they burned with effort as he tensed the muscles of his left shoulder as he pulled his front legs to his chest in preparation for impact. A furious and angry bellow rang out of his maw as he shot up with all his might to meet the brute shoulder to shoulder with is neck underneath Thor's, seeing to drive him back away from his body. This served a double purpose. One, it was a way of not only using his body, but even his spirit, letting the whole world know just how much he hated it. And two, by having oxygen outgoing from his lungs at the moment of impact, he prevented jarring and having the wind knocked out of himself, cutting recovering time down to an almost none existent margin. With Thor's feet already off the ground there was nothing that he could do to counter the sudden change in momentum. And as they collided in mid air, Sound used his torso to pull his hips to his left and throw them against Thor's side to further put momentum going in the opposite direction of his attack and to also keep his feet underneath him as his simultaneously reached back down with his front legs to catch himself. Once he felt his paws touch ground again, he landed with his legs lightly bent and slacked both his right front and hind leg while simultaneously kicking off lightly with his left front and hind leg to roll away from the other male. And as he came back up, he quickly lifted his front and hind right leg and bounced with his left ankle, leaving his left front paw on the ground as a pivot so that he used the momentum to rotate right, bringing all four paws down again to be facing Thor head on in a lighting quick recovery. His body was on fire. There was no other way to put this feeling. He hated everything. He hated everyone. He hated how it all worked. He was tired. He was sick and tired of death. And he had ample reason. He had all the reason in the world. The world had given him all the reason he needed and then some. He hated the way this world worked. He hated it through and through. And he wanted it to all just stop. He didn't want to be a part of it anymore. But he couldn't violate that one sacred rule. He understood that he was supposed to stay. He was supposed to live as long as his body that was gifted to him permitted regardless of what his soul felt. He was not allowed to leave early. It was not acceptable. In Any Form. The only thing acceptable was to fight to live. As hard as you could. So with rage seething in his voice he yelled at the brute, his eyes on fire and his lips pulled back in a snarl. ?Something that was beautiful is DEAD! Think about that! Where a gorgeous and wonderful light just stood there is only More Emptiness!? It stung. He knew he had deserved Thor's reaction. But be knew he was still right. He didn't know how to be a good and honest creature. He just knew how to be a monster. A single tear forming from his right eye the emotions just building so potently. ?Think about all the beauty that could have been. All the potential that was just thrown away and tell me what about this isn't Shameful!!? They where sore, and bitter words. They where simple. They where the words of the Blood Painted Canvas. Every drop not his own, and not a single drop blood he spelt. Of course, it was all a ruthless and predictable cycle. The brute wouldn't understand. The brute wouldn't care. It was the nature of how this all worked. No one wanted to admit that someone else was right. So Sound stood ready, all his legs bent slightly and his shoulders in close to scrunch the muscle around his neck. He was a fluid and honed coil, loose and poised, ready to react. Because unlike others, he would fight to LIVE! Fight: Self Defense. Round: 1 of 2 if you wanna go another time. Attacks: Counter attacking Thor once Airborne but throwing his Left shoulder into Thor's Right shoulder and left hip into his side to throw him away from his body, Defenses: Quick avoidance by dropping his head to move his neck out of the line of Thor's reach, tensing his left shoulder as he throws himself, and Kiaping on impact to prevent the wind from being knocked out of him and to prevent jarring, and placing distance. Injuries: If I Could Start Again!

Silver orbs slowly widened as he watched the proceedings unfold before him. He felt his blood run ice cold, his heart stilling in a moment of sheer horror. He felt the emotion stronger than any other he'd ever felt, and it was clear as day on his face, in his very body. His weight had shifted back, away from the scene, his jaw unhinged, eyes wide in horror. He made no noise, but oxygen was silently, harshly pulled in. Although this was Xae's initial reaction, as he recounted the previous events, he felt indecision swirling in his veins. Sharp, taunting laughter pulled his attention, and the russet male began breathing again, despite the frightening scent of death in the air. He didn't understand the other's language, but he could tell that whatever the words were, they weren't kind. They were taunting, smug. Xae turned his gaze to Katja for a moment before shifting to another voice. The earthen-toned beast charged at the cruel-sounding male after the duo expressed words. The russet boy remained a silent observer, his own opinion on the events still undecided. On the one hand, it was cruel, and he knew he would never have been able to take a life in that way - if ever. In his own moral values, it was wrong. It was murder. But clearly, both females knew what they were doing. And the way Katja had spilled the multihued she-wolf's blood over an altar... It was clearly an offering. Yes, he reminding himself. Katja was religious. Xae could summarize that the pale fae was a sacrifice to whatever Gods she and Katja believed in. No, he couldn't approve of such a thing, and he disagreed with the brown male(Thor). It wasn't beautiful. But he forced himself to hold his tongue, as it also wasn't any of his business. "Speech" Thought

Sri watched with interest as a multicolored fae stepped up, ready to be the volunteer. The fae grew even more interested as she watched the expressions on both females' faces. They clearly knew one another. Her dark gaze scanned the area, and the puzzle pieces were put together quickly in her swift mind. She was suddenly glad that she hadn't stepped up to the offer. Her eyes shifted back to the duo, watching the sadness in their faces, a slow, cruel smirk twisting her charcoal muzzle. Truly, religion was only for the blind and stupid. But she would enjoy the blood spilled today, as she did every day. Even if it was for the silliest of all reasons, Sri Simin would still revel in the scent of fading life. And she certainly did, watching as the starry-patterned dark fae swiftly bit into the sensitive neck, her blood spilling over the stones beneath her. There was silence in the crowd, until laughter rang in the air like thunder, cracking the serenity. Dark pools shifted to red beast as he spoke in a tongue that Sri had heard before, but didn't know. He turned to leave, only to be stopped by a dark, earth-toned man. Quietly, the fae giggled, and she couldn't help but hope that more blood would be spilled. Acting. "Speaking." Thinking.

The two would collide and Thor immediately felt the effects of the impact blossom along his shoulder and down his side. The sensation, while jarring, was entirely expected and started at the front of his right shoulder, ran down his side, and then terminated across the front of his right hip. Unexpectedly, Thor's opponent managed to shove him across his upper chest, causing him to take a step backwards in order to absorb the blow. It stung and like the rest of the points of impact on his body, would bruise later. He recovered quickly, lowering to a crouch with his knees bent, his legs centered underneath him, his head lowered and his shoulders rolled forward. All of this while New moved to stand in front of him, facing him head on. New began to speak, no, to bellow. Three things from his lips would have halted Thor's assault. One, an apology for his behavior, two, submission, or three, a civil attempt to reason with him. As his shout was none of those things, Thor's firmly pinned ears remained deaf as he charged forward, toes spreading as he used the webbing between them to aid his forward push and keep his center balanced. His eyes narrowed once more, bristled hackles standing ridged above his tensed body. He moved as if seeking to hit New head on before lunging to his right in a sudden attempt to come at his opponent's left side. His aim was to drive the side of his left shoulder into the left side of New's neck just above his forward facing shoulder while reaching under with his right forelimb in an attempt to hook New's left forelimb and pull it up and out from under him (and towards Thor) with enough force to damage the tendons in New's left shoulder. His forward weight would center over his left forelimb as he did so, tail raising behind him to better his balance. Simultaneously, the brute's head would dart to his left, lips curling back to expose merciless fangs that sought to rip into New's neck, just above his left shoulder blade (trapezius muscle). His aim was to shock with a powerful bite in the hopes that the pain, combined with Thor's efforts to off-balance his opponent by pulling his leg out from under him and the shove on that same shoulder, would throw New to the ground and allow Thor the privilege of removing his tongue from his respectless jaws. Fight: For removal of tongue Round: 2 of 2 Attacks: Attempting to drive his left shoulder into the left side of New's neck/shoulder while pulling his left forelimb up and out from under him (with Thor's right forelimb) in the hopes of damaging the tendons in his left shoulder and put him off-balance all the while trying to rip into New's neck right above his shoulder blade. Defenses: Knees bent in a crouch, weight centered, head lowered, shoulders rolled forward, ears pinned, toes spread, eyes narrowed, body tensed, tail raised, lips curled Injuries: Minor bruising to upper chest, right shoulder and lower ribs Speech

Default to THOR

Due to Sound/New not posting in the allotted time, Thor is the winner, and has the right to remove New's tongue. This maim is permanent.

New must give up by either passing out, submitting, or running away.