Dread was coming up on a year now. For as much time as he spent with Halo and learning about healing, he also wanted to take on more responsibility as a warrior. That was something he could see as honorable, as just, as right. If he was going to take on more responsibility, then he needed to really show his father that he could do it. May as well take some initiative. May as well do what he could to keep the pack safe. Safe is what matters, right? Safe above all.

It's not long into the patrol that Dread finds exactly the trouble he's looking for. The yearling can smell the grizzly long before he sees it. His hackles go up, and his head lowers. Eyes narrow. Shoulders hunch. As he rounds the corner to find the creature, Dread is already on high alert and ready. The creature was clearly hungry, just waking up from the winter-long slumber. That hunger had led the predator far too close to their neck of the woods for comfort.

He had the element of surprise and he was going to use it. The yearling sprung upon the bear, crashing down with as much force as he could muster. Snarling, growling, and sinking his teeth deep into the space where the creature's neck and shoulder met. Dread was creating a great deal of noise, but it didn't seem to matter in that moment. He was going to ward off the predator, or he was going to kill it-- either would suffice.
"Dread Fatalis"

The Warlord flew through the woods. His paws barely touched earth between each bound, and he propelled himself on by sheer willpower and rage. And then he was there, watching the movement of his son as he held his teeth in the grizzly’s shoulder.

He barely slowed as he ploughed into the raging creature. His shoulder hitting the grizzly upper underarm hard as he drove it back a few steps. But even the Warlord couldn’t easily topple a grizzly. He didn’t need to, he just needed to keep it distracted so his son could find a way to get his fangs into its throat. He heard the sounds of Bast and Bear arriving on scene, and knew that between them they could keep the grizzly bear off his son.


"Sirius Fatalis"

It wouldn't be easy but then, it didn't need to be. Dread was going to drive off the predator. He was going to keep them safe. He was going to do what he needed to in order to make sure that his family stayed okay. Dread was going to fight a bear, and that was pretty cool. Frankly, he felt pretty cool and pretty good about the whole thing. Relentless in his assault on the creature, his teeth digging harshly into fur and flesh. Gore ran down his face, his chest, pooling against the crystals that protected his throat. Everything about this was grand. For once, he feels at peace. There was a peace that came with fighting. How strange.

His father joins the assault. Reinforcements. It's not just Dread and Roan and Basil anymore-- that's likely for the best. Though they had grit, though they had heart, they were relatively unpracticed. Dread took a swatting from the predator's great, massive paw on the shoulder, and he can feel the searing pain that came with the scratch. Still, it's a beautiful kind of pain-- the kind of thing that let him know he was alive, and he was making the right decisions. He is relentless. He will not let go. The Warlord was here to assist, to help distract the creature, and they could work in tandem now. Safety in numbers. They would take the bear out together, and it would be glorious.

"Dread Fatalis"

He stumbled back a few steps, only to see the bear reach a paw towards his son. With a snarl of rage he flew forward again, almost running upwards up the bear as he leaped for its towering paw and snagged it in his teeth, ripping hard enough to show tendons and muscle as he aimed to render the paw useless and drive its attention onto him.

He could see Bast as she manoeuvred behind the bear, and at a signal from him she leaped up its back, tearing into the space around its spine, even as the Warlord took another shot at it. Going for its shoulder as he aimed to distract and enrage the creature. Trusting Dead to find a shot and take it. His son needed to learn how to assess the enemy and find the killing blow.

"Sirius Fatalis"

The bear was looking raggedy, and far worse for wear. Dread was pleased with himself, and it seemed to him that it was time. With fervor, he launched himself into the bear's throat. Teeth gnashing and snapping, before finally sinking into the creature. It was a killing blow, but far from a clean one. Blood splattered against his face, and gore caught in the crystals that protected his neck. There was so much of it, and yet here he was. Covered in all of it. There was something nearly therapeutic about it.

He was panting as he came down from the now crumpled bear carcass. Dread gave a great shake, trying to clear his coat of the blood and flesh that wasn't his. Though the boy's shoulder stung, he didn't mind. Head held high, rather proud of himself. As the yearling caught his breath, his attention turned to his father. "Are you okay?" It was an earnest question, looking to the Warlord to begin checking for any signs of injury.

"Dread Fatalis"

Keeping the bear's attention was a risky endeavour, and the Warlord was glad when Dread’s teeth closed on the bear's throat, tearing it with a splatter of gore. The bear crumpled beneath them, and the Warlord twisted, leaping free of the carcass. He was shaking some of the blood from his own coat when his son's voice filled the space between them.

Looking up, his gaze shifted back and forth as he assessed Dread. “I’m fine. That was a good blow, Dread.” He said, taking a few steps forward, and clasping a paw against Dread’s shoulder. “Well done. Just don’t go getting any ideas. It’s dangerous to take a bear alone.” He warned.


"Sirius Fatalis"