Finished thread Bang Bang - Printable Version

  He paces. Picks teeth with his tongue, spits what he finds. Self-inflicted narrow eyes, the conscious concentration to hold it curls his lip a little, but there's an unusual twitch overlain today. Teeth slotted together. Dry air burns his nostrils, and Garrison sneezes in the dirt. Swipes his tongue over his teeth, tastes the stagnation.

  "Give a little, get a little," the dire offers whoever he spies. Maybe it's his size that keeps even his irritated betters from kicking his ass. Wishes they would, just to give him something to do.

  Garrison's not looking to impress anyone so much as fill his day. When does Slaving Season start, again?

CRUX

thorn in your side

"Give a little, get a little,"

What you offering? rang the voice of the boy who stood in the shadows, watching the silvery form pace. He licked his own lips in subconscious response to the male's own actions before striding out of the shadows, starlit pelt glimmering slightly as he moved. Who are you? He'd never met this man, nor scented him nor heard of him - unless the name that was brought offered more information. He'd heard a lot of rumors and information from his mothers as he grew up under their care, but he'd never heard of a man with this description.

He had stripes that reminded him somewhat of those of his mother, but not enough to give reason for attention. Though Crux was smaller, he didn't fear this male - he'd grown up knowing that anyone could turn on him at any time but to fear that would just stunt his growth as a wolf of the Valley.

OOC

Dialogue - Thought

  He stands stock-still, thick tail swaying from the pacing recently abandoned the only reminder of life in his otherwise statuesque appearance. Eyes locked on the star-strewn boy. Garrison wets his nose. Cracks his neck. "Pain."

  There is power in his frame, a yearling just coming in to his bones. He won't go easy. His shoulders are slotting for a fight when the boy starts up again. His pacing turns to circles. Babble when they should be battling. Black lips curl from white teeth, irritable in all the most obvious ways. "You first!" He darts forward on the final consonant, teeth snapping for whatever he can reach.

  Garrison's even worse than the slaves; keep him occupied or risk bodily harm. They can talk later, when his muscles ache from overexertion and that drought inside his nostrils is earned.

CRUX

thorn in your side

"Pain."

Oh, so that's how it is? Crux's eyes gleamed as he readied himself for the inevitable fight. While he hadn't had as much practice as he could have, being an only-pup-in-the-litter, he'd had training and had performed A&A with several others his age. This would be the first full adult he was fighting with. Time to put his casual training to use!

"You first!"

The other was on the move and Crux side-stepped, swinging his hind quarters away from Garrison all the while ducking under and aiming a bite at the other male's lower jaw, attempting to grip it while keeping his own snout out of the other's mouth.

If he managed this bite, he would attempt to wrench the other's jaw up (so the angle of his own neck wouldn't be as sharp and the other's head would be rotated) then jerk his prize side to side, as if he were a dog shaking a cat. The intention was not to break the lower jaw, but to weaken it temporarily. A couple days of soreness and tightness, perhaps.

If Garrison avoided the initial bite, Crux would leap back, jaws wide open and chin tucked slightly to attempt to protect his throat. Expecting Garrison to follow, he would attempt to parry the teeth with his own, fangs knocking into fangs.

OOC

Dialogue - Thought

She had lived her life to its fullest, she had lived by herself for a while, tearing loose from her family, found no one of interest beyond family ties, grown independent from them and found no way to enact with them. Her siblings simply didn't catch her attention. Lotus, maybe a little, she was always sweet and kind to her, wondering when that would end but she favored her for actually including her when she was around, and for that she was grateful to the delicate little flower.

Upon waking that morning she went out for her usual run. She kept herself in shape, sharpened her mind by running for miles, but this walk was different today. She passed few trees and hard dirt, saw the boiling tars in the distance but kept running, pacing herself to not tire herself too fast, and then she caught a familiar and sweet scent. Crux. She halted and sniffed it closer. The war had made them spend much time apart, their families in uproar over the sheer number of people who had left behind the valley - TRAITORS!, they had briefly met sometimes, talked, wrestled, honed their skills for the future to come. But always brief, short and sweet.

Had Fei been a simpler woman one might wonder if her mind would wander often to him, if she felt jealousy by hardly seeing him, but she was not that kind of little girl. She wasn't a teenager, she had almost skipped that stage completely in mind, she spend more time terrorizing the future, planning it and always keeping him in the loop of these plans. He was included to an inner circle that no one else was invited to. She didn't cuddle or kiss, rarely did she touch him but over time Crux would learn that she showed her strange affection of him in different ways. Including her in her future plans, including him in her thoughts, talk to him about her devotion, pray for him... These were the signs of affection she had given Crux and no one else. No one else had been worthy of it.

She rarely sought him out, she was not pushy or clingy, she didn't latch on to him or needed his attention, but it had been almost months since they had last seen each other and she decided that she wanted to see him - how he had grown, what he was doing with himself, was he planning or working on their future too? She walked now and followed his scent to find the answer.

Crux never disappointed her.

He was fighting an adult, a large male. It was not lost on Feizin that Crux had become handsome, but it was an observation rather than enjoyment. He could have the ugliest face on earth and it wouldn't matter if he stayed the same in his head, if he kept devote and virtue, upheld traditions, that was enough for Fei. She watched them and came closer and sat down, watching their spar, offering no words to either one, but if Crux would glance at her or look in her direction she would offer a smile, small, crooked and with a message. Make me proud.

He ignores the spectators; let them come. They will howl for him when this is through. His hasty snap is caught between Crux's teeth, and while he likely could have clamped mouth closed, tensed his muscles and resisted the thrashing, instead he rears back, endures the wrench to his jaw in favour of smacking a massive forepaw against the boy's neck. Maybe he can break the grip, water up his eyes by smacking him in the snout, at least throw off his balance. Any recoil is met with an advance from the brute, looking to further bowl him over, to force the male to the ground, to his back, to go for his throat and repay the favour from an injured jaw.

He has to let go, bruise blooming beneath the skin and three hundred pounds of angry using his body like a punching bag.

CRUX

thorn in your side

His bite hit - a success! His jaws clamped down on the jaw of the older, more experienced male, and suddenly they were moving. The other male was lifting up, rearing back on hind feet - and by force of physics, the younger male followed, pulled up onto his hind paws. Before Crux knew what was happening, Garrison's paw made contact. Due to dexterity of the older male's limbs at their proximity, the hit on the neck grazed and made stronger contact on the shoulder and chest of the yearling.

The boy's reflex was not to let go, but to clamp on tighter, a snarl rippling through his throat - If Garrison's jaw had not been in his mouth, this action would have been him gritting his teeth. Were he not so focused on Garrison, he would have noticed Feizen and blinked at her - but right now his focus was solely on his opponent, even as his eyes watered and he blinked quickly to clear them.

Crux reached forward with his paws, aiming to wrap around the other male's neck and pull him as tightly to his own body as he could, to avoid any more hits by the other male's paws. Garrison had him by both height and weight, but until the other male got him on the ground, the boy was going to fight with as much vitriol as he could. Of course, keeping in mind that they were pack and trying to keep permanent damage to a minimum.

OOC

Sorry for the delay! Still working on finals but I wanted to get this thread moving again.

  Crux clamps down, grabs him bodily. Stupid boy; should have just let go. Both up on their hindpaws, Garrison has more than a few advantages: including gravity. All he has to do is lean forward, lurch if Crux tries to walk back to compensate. Being as close as the Bacchus has brought them, Garrison can even pull forward with forelegs left open. He's certain to have both of them available to catch his mass before coming to his belly-- Crux underneath him or not.

  His jaw aches, but it will pass briefly. He won't let it interfere. If anything, the pain drives Garrison to act, to attack with more fury. He's torn between punishing the boy in the heat of their squabble, and commending him for resilience. All is locked in the blood behind his eyes, because for now, he is focused only on winning.

  If Crux releases and retreats, he follows closely, snapping and swatting. If he goes to ground, then Garrison brings a paw to his throat and leans on it. He may be able to hold forever, but he'll have to breathe eventually. Whatever happens, the Bacchus bellow is challenged by a fully voice growl. So what if his girlfriend's watching? Garrison fights for the glory of the gods.

CRUX

make me your blade

Potentials given but not acted on, Crux and Garrison danced in a locked display of brute force. But then the larger male pushed forward and gravity claimed him - pulling Crux down onto the ground under Garrison. A grunt, a huff of air, jaws opened involuntarily - just enough for Garrison's jaw to slip out. Crux snarled, furious he let his high ground go, and lurched his head up to snap at Garrison's face. He attempted to retain his grip with his paws, wrapped around the other male's neck and shoulders, trying to keep their bodies close so that Garrison could not -

but he was grounded and the stronger male's paw pressed against his throat. Crux's lips pulled back in a soundless snarl. His hind legs tucked up under him and shoved up in one powerful blow, as he twisted his head and shoulder to attempt to slide the older male's paw from his neck and onto the ground - gravity and the older male's pressure would assist him if he were able to twist enough to get his throat out from under the paw.

If this kick and roll did not succeed, Crux would attempt to twist his head to the side and up so that he could grab the wrist of the male in his jaws and bite down, all the while kicking with his hind legs at the other male's unguarded underbelly and... valuables.

OOC

Let's assume Fei just wandered away during the fight.
Also I'm bad at fighting threads so if you need a sketch of what I'm trying to have Crux do, let me know!

  It's not the most steady position, Garrison would admit-- his move to step on the convex throat was more a power play than any advancement to his position in the fight. His paw slides easily to the ground beside Crux's neck, boxing him in underneath the massive wolf.

  He fights, even from the ground, thrashing against the hard muscle of his underside, blunt force ignored: it's nothing more than pain. The starry pelt, the blazing eyes, and he says, "What's your name?" If his hindpaws strike out at Garrisons assumed genitalia, he'll be sorely disappointed that Garrison won't be sore. Pale eyes narrow. "Do you have a bond, boy?"

  He's not so young, but so, so desperate to prove himself. Garrison can help with that. Stood, unmoving, over his form. Waiting for an answer.

CRUX

thorn in your side

Able to breathe once more, Crux's own misconception became clear as his hind claws hit only soft belly, pulling tufts of hair out. The target was not what he had assumed, he realized - the masked odor told him enough to give him a conclusion. At least, he wouldn't go questioning it now, as inexperienced in this as he was.

Crux pauses in his assault, eyes narrowed and wary in case the other attempted to attack again. He was boxed in, trapped. He understood this, but would not wet himself over being bested by a more experienced foe. He was young and inexperienced - one could not expect him to have the learned skill yet. That's what he told himself, anyway as the male surveyed him from above.

What's your name?
The other didn't appear to be readying for another attack, so he let his thoughts gather for a moment before responding. Crux - and you are? He was feeling increasingly uncomfortable boxed in like this. Like a slave.

Do you have a bond, boy?
Was he bonded? No, he was part of a family but that was different - that was nothing to do with bonds. Even if they had wanted to claim him into their house, they hadn't bothered to. No, not yet. Was this wolf implying something? Was he about to be bonded?