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Post by Weylyn Tokalawaya on Apr 30, 2010 18:53:06 GMT -5
The suns rays started to shoot over the horizon, still unseen by the creatures in the forest, sheltered by their trees. The cool morning had fog coming from Weylyn's mouth as he patrolled his borders knowingly and wisely. He had once been a stranger to these woods, and now, only after a few days, maybe a week, he had begun to show himself as a true leader; he had most of the forest memorized, plus he had recruited a few new members, which made him extremely happy and proud to be an alpha. He was getting used to the routine and his entire being was starting to become accustomed to the daily and sometimes repetitive tasks of a Dragga. Still unsure of his pack's feelings about him, Weylyn did all he could to make sure things didn't go bad.
The son began to rise higher, filtering rays of light through the foliage and passing over his coat. His muscles had grown, believe it or not. His entire form held more authority over everything, as if the ground would give into his orders and the sky was his captive. Weylyn rejoiced in his position, although he never showed how content he was, unless it was to his faithful beta, Rioga. She was the only wolf he trusted, as of late, but he was planning to change that. Now, though, he could feel an ominous feeling crawl over him, tickle his skin, nip at his bones. The forest grew unnaturally quiet, with none of its morning hustle and bustle, nor any creatures daring to move.
Something, or someone, was coming. And Weylyn had an idea about who it was. Azzuen. He hadn't expected the former alpha to come about so soon, but he had expected it. Weylyn found himself perfectly capable of taking the alpha on; he was past his years, his former glory left behind. He formed the pack that Weylyn was taking over, and Weylyn respected him for it; however, Weylyn wasn't about to paw over his position, especially after he had finally figured out the perks and the downfalls. Weylyn would put up one hell of a good fight, for he was in his prime and he had been training himself. The only question was when and where. He could tell it would be soon, but how soon wasn't clear to him.
Weylyn entered a thicker part of the forest, where he found himself staring into a small pool of water. His eyes stared back at him, his soul speaking. Die before losing they said. Win or never be seen again. Weylyn knew these were the only answers that he had. But he wasn't ready to kill another wolf. He wasn't ready to watch another wolf die. He felt his entire body begin to shake, his eyes close. He took a deep breath, opened them again, and his immature mind had come to a conclusion. Don't kill him. Just handicap him. You can attack without killing. Restrain yourself. Weylyn knew not how to do this, but he would figure it out.
The nervousness of himself grew. He continued on, splashing his reflection. When he returned, he would be different; he would have scars, but he would have more power, and he would hold himself prouder than ever before. Azzuen could not take him down. Weylyn wouldn't let him. And he wouldn't give up no matter how tough the challenge. The wolf licked his muzzle and passed through the trees, toward the edge of the land. He stopped at the border, leaves rustling and wind whistling. Everything was so pristine, but would soon be disturbed by raucous fighting and the fighting between immense power. Only one would be victorious, the other would be dead or permanently handicapped.
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Post by Ázzuen Vilkas on May 1, 2010 13:09:15 GMT -5
A brisk run carried an agile figure through the thick brush of this forest. Azzuen knew these lands better than any wolf ever could. He knew every bush, every tree and every plain. The grasses were on his side and the creatures had learned to respect his decision. But lately, he had to give it up. Give his power to a young Dragga, who won over the challenge. Azzuen had been getting older and older, and his lack of confidence wasn’t helping anything. He wasn’t a frail wolf, he had only gotten stronger from having to fend for himself. And now was the time to prove that he could be leader once again. He had to get his love back.
Ever since he had left this land, he had been preparing for this fight. When he left he was only an agile wolf, but now he had muscle. Muscle that could be used to kill the other opponent, for that was the only thing that would be allowed to happen. If he didn’t kill him, then there was no doubt that this wolf would cease Azzuen’s life. He would avoid that at all costs. He couldn’t die this soon … especially since his pups were about to be born. If he lost this fight, his offspring would never even know his scent.
Liquid adrenaline pulsed through his veins as he came closer and closer to the land that he used to be able to call his. It had been his for all of his life, for it was the land that ran in his family. He was ashamed that he gave it up so easily, but back then he wouldn’t have been able to win a fight against that wolf. That wolf was large and young, so he was a wolf that wouldn’t hesitate to kill. At least that’s what it had always seemed like to Azzuen. His paws pounded faster and faster.
The scent markers sprang up beneath his nose, so he stopped abrubtly. Were his eyes deceiving him? The Dragga was waiting for him … he had been expecting him to come. Azzuen had underestimated this male to the extreme. His hackles stayed smooth, proving to the other wolf that he had gotten larger. A much better threat to Weylyn. Walking slowly past the scent warnings he kept his gaze strong on the Dragga. “It’s nice to see that we both were anticipating this. I am here to regain my place as Dragga of Lasonia, Weylyn Tokalawaya.”
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Post by Weylyn Tokalawaya on May 2, 2010 12:21:44 GMT -5
Weylyn had been naive to think that he was ready. He remained calm; the scent grew nearer, but he had never really believed that Azzuen would return so soon. He hid his shock very well as he sat there, calm and tranquil. He noticed the other wolf had bulked up, but so had he. Most of his stomach fat had been burned away, and he knew the woods better than any wolf in his pack. Weylyn knew he wouldn't reach the knowledge Azzuen had so quickly, but a profound sense of wisdom seemed to age the young wolf. He knew more than he had before, and he had learned. Both bulky wolves had an equal shot of winning; Weylyn because of his youth and stamina, and Azzuen because of his advanced experience.
Weylyn let the fact dawn on him, slowly recognizing the truth of the matter. They were on equal terms and either could win. Except Azzuen had the gall to kill, and Weylyn was not so sure about it. Of course, this would not be known just by looking at him. If looks could kill, and asserting oneself could win fights, Weylyn would've been the winner five times over. He looked completely in his element with no signs of anything but victory. Inside, he was a turmoil. But that would never show through. If anything, Weylyn could hide his emotions, his thoughts, and his feelings perfectly well behind a mask he had taken years to develop. Inside of him was a completely different wolf than the one he projected, but he wore the costume very well.
Weylyn had also noticed the surprise Azzuen had. How had Weylyn known? His gut told him. Deep down, inside his very core, his very being, something screamed out. Today was the day to prove himself. Thoughts raced through his head. Kill or don't kill. Win or die. Lose and perish. The wolf before him would have no qualms about ending Weylyn's life, and he realized this. The young wolf still had a lot to learn about life and death. He knew that it would be the opposite for him if he killed Azzuen. The eyes would haunt him, like his family's did. He would be taking this wolf away from his love, and leaving the leftovers heartbroken and mad at the world.
And the thought of Rioga entered his mind. What would she think of him, if he lost? Would she obediently follow Azzuen? Would she leave? Would she fight him? Would she hate Weylyn? An eerie sense of loneliness washed over him and he stared blankly ahead at the former alpha, almost like a fire blew out and he was left in the dark. He had become nothing but a ghost, going through the motions. He sat there, thinking about it. Kill and bare with the guilt, or die and have your last few moments filled with disappointment. He was confused and undecided. Could he really kill another wolf, put others through the misery he had gone through? He knew this wolf, knew his mate, knew his pack. It wouldn't be the same as all the no-names and rogues. But he had something to live for, too.
Azzuen's speaking broke him from his daze. His eyes lifted with a new sense of power. Kill or be killed. Easier said than done, and Weylyn knew it. I figured you'd want it back. But I am not like you, Azzuen. I can't give things up so easily. Weylyn hadn't meant to get so personal. But the emotions overflowing in him, unseen by the world, were starting to get the best of him. You shouldn't have come back, so I wouldn't have to kill you, thought the alpha. You gave up your position to young blood and you knew that I could handle the job. Are you doubting your decision? If not, you should know full well what a challenge it will be, said Weylyn. Either way, I lose. What am I supposed to do? the thoughts screamed in his head. This is not your place anymore, Azzuen. Why do you keep talking? Make a decision! Hurry it up! Kill or not kill? Die or win. Lose and die. Fight and win. Win and lose. Everything was happening too fast. What had he been doing all this time?
Training of course. His body was ready. But he was not mentally prepared for this. Not in a million years would he be prepared for this. He couldn't lose. He couldn't win. He couldn't die. He couldn't kill. He couldn't speak. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. And everything came to a halt. He stood now, power coursing through him. He had trained for this. He had trained to win. He had trained to kill. He had trained to not die. He had trained to lead. He had trained to continue on being Dragga. He had trained to defeat Azzuen. And now was his chance.
Shall we get started? And Weylyn's emotions were now locked in an internal prison, where they could no longer interfere. Kill Azzuen. Win. Lead. Power. Order. Mine.
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Post by Ázzuen Vilkas on May 2, 2010 18:36:22 GMT -5
Azzuen knew that this was a time of life or death. A time that would need the ability to make split-second decisions. The decisions that could determine whether or not your paws were ripped to pieces or having your heart ripped right out of your chest. Azzuen was ready for this. He was born to make these decisions for his own good. But he didn’t really get a good feeling from this fight. Something was going to happen. He could sense the death coming. But to who? He couldn’t risk it being himself. But could he really handle killing a bulk lupo like this one? He had so much potential to keep this land safe, and so much potential to start a very strong family and pack. A force not to be reckoned with. But Azzuen always had to make up his own rules to things.
This wolf wanted to kill him. He could see it in his eyes. This large wolf was waiting for Azzuen to make the first move. The move that would determine both of their fates. He tried to give himself a pep talk, a little challenge to himself to see whether or not he would be able to handle this. So far he was doing pretty well. He was still standing here, and that’s all that really mattered to him. As long as he got out of this alive, he would be satisfied … but what if he didn’t? Well, in all honesty, he had lived a good life. He had taught his mate about love and about dedication. He taught the wolves that used to be a part of his family about respecting other wolves, and how to trust. So even if he didn’t make it through this, he prayed to Halasia that he would be looked upon as a good soul. As a soul that tried to really make a difference in the wolves that surrounded him …
But now was not the time to think of those things. There was a wolf in front of him wanting him to start the inevitable. The words that Weylyn spoke penetrated Azzuen like an arrow to flesh. A mighty growl rumbled his bowels as his hackles began to arise. A great bearing sea upon his pelt. He would have to make the first move, deciding that action spoke louder than words. His bodice leaned forward with all of his might and his muscles tensed into action. Golden orbs pinned onto the silhouette of the wolf he needed to kill.
A large paw lifted up to push his contender to the floor, hopefully it would catch him off guard and throw off his balance … So as this wolf went to the ground Azzuen’s pearly whites showed themselves from his mull. Ready for if this wolf fell, he would make a nice puncture into his throat after leaving a scar across his face … The quick rush of adrenaline began to take over him. He really couldn’t believe that he decided to make the first move in this. But he did, and he had to make the best of it …
OOC: How about since Azzuen's getting killed, Weylyn gets a good scar? And we can just mod this fairly throughout if that's alright with you ^^
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Post by Weylyn Tokalawaya on May 2, 2010 22:40:28 GMT -5
[ooc: I had intended that from the beginning. We couldn't have Weywey come off Scott-free could we?]
The silent forest around them oozed the truth; this battle was coming, whether the wolves liked it or not. Weylyn could tell Azzuen was getting antsy, possibly recollecting and thinking things like he was. But that was nothing. Now that Weylyn could feel no emotions, now that he was enveloped in fog, he let his eyes speak the truth. They were hollow, empty. If he lost, he was dead. If he won, Azzuen died. And he would have to live with that for as long as he lived, for as long as his mate was in the pack, for as long as any of his descendants were alive. Their hatred and anger and contempt toward Weylyn would be etched into their veins, their hearts, their souls, and Weylyn's children and his descendants would always feel the guilt.
But why had it become so hard recently? What was so different about Azzuen? Was it because Weylyn lived his life, felt the pride of being alpha, felt the dedication to the pack? That could have been it, but Weylyn knew it was something else, something rooted deep within his tummy, screaming to be let out. Because if he killed Azzuen, he wouldn't be killing some nameless rogue loser who had nothing to lose. He would be killing himself; someone who had worked hard to get where they were and in a moment of weakness had given it all up for some proud little wolf. Weylyn saw himself in Azzuen, and had actually aimed to be like him, to be respected, loved, well known, and when he died, to be remembered.
Azzuen's snarl woke Weylyn up. His words had hit deep, of course, as he had intended. His provocation was working. He couldn't make the first move. What was he planning on doing? Defending himself until the other wolf was worn out? No, of course that wouldn't work. But he needed more time, more time to think it over, more time to prepare, more time to talk to someone, more time to talk to Rioga. It was all dwindling too fast, too fast for him to anticipate. And Azzuen attacked. The wolf, usually agile and incredibly fast, froze, seeing the wolf come at him. What are you doing? growled the caged wolf. The internal struggle lasted for a second and Weylyn had to keep his emotions in check. The ground hit him and he immediately rolled over, springing to his feet in seconds.
It was his reflex that kicked in now, when he lunged for the other wolf, his entire body's weight going for it. It was, despite being knocked down, a quite fast reaction time. It was also unexpected and would at least knock Azzuen a little off balance if Weylyn managed to nick him. Of course, none of this was guaranteed, which meant that Weylyn, after his course was planned, turned sharply to avoid counters. What the hell was he thinking, freezing like that? He needed no time. He wanted this. He needed this. Why was it so hard? Stop thinking about it. Right now, Azzuen wasn't a friend. He was an enemy out for Weylyn's head. Weylyn finally came to this realization. He would really die.
Blood dribbled from his face, a small dent in his armor dripping to the ground. It wasn't deep enough to scar; his natural instinct had him flinching before he realized it. Weylyn had a new resolve, this time it wouldn't be broken so easily. But killing Azzuen wouldn't be easy, either.
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Post by Ázzuen Vilkas on May 4, 2010 16:45:05 GMT -5
OOC: What do you mean by Scott-free?
This was all happening so fast, too fast for the mind to be able to comprehend. As Azzuen leaned into the fight, Weylyn fought right back. But as Azzuen was running toward him, there was sort of a delay to his movement. Almost as if he was actually attempting to fight instinct. Was Weylyn second-guessing himself? Could Azzuen actually win this? Once he saw this hesitation, it made him more determined to win. He didn’t really understand why, because when he saw that he felt a compassion toward the wolf that was standing in front of him. But how could he feel compassion for a wolf that was only wanting to take his family, and his life?
Maybe they weren’t really enemies. Maybe they were just two wolves wanting the same power. What if they could compromise something? No. He had to keep his mind on track during this. There was too much going on for him to get distracted now. His eyes caught blood. The blood of the ‘enemy’. Azzuen made the mistake of flashing back to Teekah. The first time he actually didn’t win a fight. Against an evil wolf. But evil underestimated Teekah. But now Azzuen was knocked to the ground with the force of a wolf almost twice his size. Blood dripped as Weylyn’s claws tore into his ribcage, the exact move Teekah took … how could he so easily expose himself again? He had underestimated the strength of Weylyn, until it came crashing down on him. Literally.
Instinctively he brought himself quickly back up. His body leaned back into the body that just pushed him down with his fangs outreached for flesh. Azzuen actually had to try to stay alive during this … this fight really was turning out to be a matter of life or death. This wolf wanted to kill him. Those words replayed many times in his mind, reminding him what he had come here for. Even if it would haunt him forever, he had to kill this wolf. He had to. But he didn’t know now if he would actually be able to conquer this feat.
Now he wasn’t aiming for anything in particular as his teeth went into skin. He just wanted to tear it; something massiveto leave a mark. If he died, he wanted to be remembered. While he was moving, he held back groans from the wound, for a couple of his ribs had already been broken once. It felt the same this time, but worse. He had felt something pop. But he soon distracted himself, protecting this wound from further damage he kept it out of sight from Weylyn as he moved.
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Post by Weylyn Tokalawaya on May 4, 2010 17:11:44 GMT -5
[ooc: without injuries. Meaning he'd come out injured. ;D It's actually 'scot free.' ]
In the few seconds Weylyn had to think, a burst of images flashed through his head. All of them were gone and back within seconds, but memories were there all the same. His emotional prison had been broken in the impact, and the faces and eyes and souls of his family suddenly came back to him; everything he had worked for was because of them, because he wanted to make them proud. What was killing a former alpha to him? It should have been another stepping stone to the top. His parents had killed before, not without guilt, but they lived through it. What made Azzuen's life more precious than his own? He was already past his prime, he had his chance, he had already reached the age of retiring. And now, now he was trying to steal Weylyn's chance at success, at life, at love. Weylyn was not going to let that happen, he realized. Not if he had the will to fight.
Angry teeth from the enemy sunk into the rough skin above his shoulder. He yelped, yanked away and took a few steps back to recuperate and begin his plans. He noticed Azzuen's injuries and the pain he was in. He could see it on his face. He could tell that he could win this fight just as much as Azzuen could, if he played his cards right. And he would aim to do that. He would work his way forward and continue to beat down the competition. He would win. Without another second's hesitation, Weylyn leaped back into the pit, teeth lashing and a strong body pummeling anything in its path. His teeth aimed for the back, although his body would probably make contact with Azzuen's rump. He turned, before he had time to think and change his mind again, and lunged forward.
This time his teeth were headed toward the throat, but it seemed that Azzuen's head was in the way. He would settle, if he could get a chunk off of the face. He retreated again, almost playing guerrilla warfare with his opponent. He was going to knock the previous dragga down a few blocks. Now his mind was blank, and only Weylyn's trained body was thinking very little, if at all. He wanted this to be over with. He wanted to kill this alpha. He wanted to prove himself worthy of the position. He wanted to show to the pack that he had it in him. He wanted to be respected. He wanted to be known. He wanted to be welcomed and apart of something.
He wanted to win. Weylyn knew this now. Kill or no kill, he wanted, needed, lusted to win. And he would get his wish. If he thought differently, he would lose. And Weylyn wasn't about to give up just because a bit of opposition came up. No, the guilt would be heavy, but the rewards would also be present, and he would often think back. Weylyn, with the image of his family suddenly in his mind, and the image of his new family appearing beside him, drove him forward, once again lunging for any part of Azzuen's body. Neck, leg, back, tail, stomach. Perhaps none of them connected, perhaps they all did. Weylyn wasn't paying much attention now that the adrenaline kicked into his body.
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Post by Ázzuen Vilkas on May 4, 2010 17:52:20 GMT -5
OOC: Oooh, well Azzuen knows what he’s doing, the problem is he is just beyond his primes years.lol. So does it matter to you if he gets a good scar? I think it proves to other wolves that he’s been through a great fight, ya know? Plus Azzuen has to go down well if you know what I mean lol.
The moment Azzuen got ahold of his skin, his jaws clamped. They clamped so hard that he could hear his teeth grind together for that one instance. As Weylyn yelped, it just made Azzuen want to sink his teeth in deeper. But by now, he knew that wasn’t possible. What was it about the adrenaline that made wolves want to kill another? Make them want to cease another will to win? Azzuen would never understand instinct, he just knew that it was something that he was forced to give into. He knew that this was a wolf’s skin/fur that was in his mouth at the moment, but he acted as if it was Elkryn. Elkryn was the largest prey, the biggest challenge that grazed upon his land. Azzuen respected them, respected their understanding of wolves. It amazed him how they lived within his land freely and he began to wonder if they would continue to live here if they knew there was a new Dragga. Azzuen had grown up with them, they might not like new blood running the place.
He spit the fur out of his mouth and watched carefully as Weylyn got his head back together. This wolf was making a plan. Azzuen could see that he wanted to kill him, he wouldn’t go out with Azzuen still breathing. He felt that was understandable … because he felt the same way. But if Weylyn won this fight, wouldn’t he win the next too? So why should he be worried? Instinct. The large bodice was on top of Azzuen as it was before, but this time there was thought put into the way he moved. An improvement for his enemy … and Azzuen was already this weak. Jaws clamped into his spine just as Azzuen headed toward his throat. His teeth were thrown away as his saliva flew sideways. Without thinking he threw his head back to reach the pain and aimed to clamp his jaws around the foe’s muzzle.
He thought he had felt a hard surface underneath his teeth, but he knew he couldn’t pay too much mind to it. Right now he had to kill. For a moment he saw white flashing before him and brown fur being tossed around everywhere. He wasn’t aware of the small things that were happening to both of them. The little scars that were being made. He was simply worried now about surviving this ordeal. This was definitely a challenge now. Azzuen had realized now that he wasn’t in his prime years, like a slap in the face. But he had to use his expertise to win. If he had the strength. He felt claws against his open wound, he snarled a nasty one.
As he saw the teeth, he quickly moved his head to cover his throat. Because if Weylyn hit a certain spot in the throat … it was overwith. Instead he got some nice teeth sunk into his cranium. He couldn’t move. This was it. The only thing he could think of to do was move it out of his jaws, but he wouldn’t be able to reach anywhere. But then Weylyn’s leg got into reach so Azzuen aimed to clamp his jaws around it, to distract him. He got loose of the hold on his head and knew he wouldn’t last much longer … so he went for the gold. His teeth went toward Weylyn’s face … any place his teeth landed would leave a good mark.
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Post by Weylyn Tokalawaya on May 5, 2010 5:20:43 GMT -5
[ooc; that's what I meant.  ]
Weylyn could feel the dribble of blood work its way down his leg. He would have a limp for a while, and possibly a scar, but it wasn't necessarily a very dangerous wound yet. It was deep, but it didn't tear anything and the only downfall of it was that it was bleeding. He could deal with blood. That was no problem. The pain disappeared with the increase of adrenaline and the continuation of the fight. Weylyn couldn't let something so small affect him. Weylyn couldn't understand the will to fight, the instinct driving him to fight. His bones screamed in angst; they wanted more. His muscles strained against his collection; they wanted to be free. His head churned with thoughts; it wanted to let instinct take over, but he couldn't help this. Weylyn needed to be in control somehow.
Weylyn's teeth sunk into the back of the enemy. This was quite an achievement for him; however, the wolf countered. This was fine. Weylyn took the teeth to the face, a small cut forming at the base of his snout. He drew away, perhaps realizing before Azzuen what was going on. They were leaving their marks on each other. If one won the fight, the other would be remembered as scars on the others body. Weylyn would be proud of the scars he received, especially from the former alpha of Validus Animus. This was an honor to behold, though he had no time to dwell upon those thoughts. He could see the strength slowly waning from his enemy, while his was still strong. This pained his heart and caused a moment of hesitation, before the adrenaline kicked in again and nothing mattered anymore.
Weylyn felt his own claws reentering the wounds he had made earlier. How dirty. He couldn't feel proud of this, even though just winning the fight was a challenge. That had not been fair, and in a moment's weakness, he let down his guard. Watching the opponent die was different than killing him. He hadn't taken this into mind. His thoughts swirled again, emotions distracting him from the real life he had to face. And it was Azzuen who brought him back again, a clamp around his leg. He yanked free, causing more damage because of his carelessness, but that was fine. With a snarl, he let go of Azzuen's head, and then the wolf's teeth were aiming for his face.
He saw everything in the wolf's mouth; the jagged teeth, the saliva, his throat all slowed down before it actually hit him. The angry teeth ran from the left side of his right eye, near the middle of his forehead, down the bridge of his nose and off of his muzzle. Blood gushed out of the wound, distracting him for a single moment. He would have to thank Azzuen; the pain made him concentrate, and before the blood could completely block out his eyes, he tackled the wolf, using as much power as he could into the thrust. His teeth snapped anywhere; his leg, his chest, his throat. All of the wounds would not be deep, but it was a start. Weylyn withdrew for a moment, and then lunged for the wolf again, straight for the neck.
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Post by Raphael Samedi on May 11, 2010 16:55:31 GMT -5
It had been days since she had seen Azzuen and she was dying inside. She wanted to talk to him, she needed to know things, like why he had abandoned her and his soon to be pups, and the pack that he worked so hard to build. Was he sick, was he dying, was he just a coward. These thoughts were all running through her mind at once and she had the feeling of confusion. She just wanted to know, to fill this empty void in her heart. She didn’t really have a choice when it came to accepting the new the Dragga, she couldn’t leave her pack just like her mate. She had to be strong for them and watch out for them the best of her ability. Many wouldn’t be happy with the change just like her and she needed to tell them, reassure them that everything was going to be alright. But trying to find the strength was difficult. She just wanted to sleep forever.
Raff had been wandering the woods of Lasonia for hours just hoping to find him. Would he want to see her if she found him. Would he talk to her if she asked him the questions on her mind? She didn’t know but she had to try anyway. She couldn’t be leave it at that she needed to know from him. She didn’t have much energy these days as the growing litter in her body took it all. Many times she had to stop and rest to gather herself and will herself to wander on. Coming to a stop and sitting down under a large tree she looked around the woods as she rested her aching limbs. Her feet were on fire and the pups would stay still. It was like something was kicking her continuously. She couldn’t wait to have these pups out of her. It was time like this when she needed Azzuen the most. Where in the world could he be?
A soft breeze had picked up as she sat there and with the cool air came a scent that was extremely familiar. It was the scent of blood and a scent that she knew all to well. The many times has she watched over Azzuen and tended to his wounds so they didn’t get infected would never leave her mind and the smell of his blood and anguish would forever be on her nose. Azzuen was near and he was hurt., forgetting about the pain in her body she got to her feet and lifted her muzzle into the air and set out to seek the blood that she knew all to well. It didn’t take long and her trusty nostrils had picked up the destination. Before her mind could think her legs were already carrying her to where she needed to go. At first it was a steady trot but when she picked up another scent she knew that he wasn’t out of harms way just yet.
Galloping off she weaved around trees and shrubs, the low branches and twigs catching her fur and scratching her face. She didn’t care she needed to get to Azzuen, she needed to protect him. Even after what he did her loyalty for him was still as strong as it ever was. Even though he was no longer her Dragga. As she moved closer she could hear a mixture of growls and yelps and she knew that she wasn’t far. Finally coming around some trees she saw it and she skidded to a stop a short way from them. Azzuen was on the ground and Weylyn was coming down on him, jaws opened wide. She let out a loud bark, but to the wolves ears would have sounded like a long pained Nooooo. But she was to late, Weylyn locked his jaws down on Azzuen’s neck. She knew all to well what would be the out come of such a bite. She was frozen with fear.
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Post by Ázzuen Vilkas on May 15, 2010 15:34:35 GMT -5
In the middle of the hassle, Azzuen was getting bitten everywhere. Every are that Weylyn’s mull could reach, made a puncture wound in him. There was no way that he could fight this because he wasn’t quick enough. He succeeded in keeping this wolf away from his already infected wound, and that was the only thing he was really trying to protect. The next thing he knew, the wolf was off of him. He took this moment to take a breath, it was more of a heaving than a normal breathing motion. There had to have been a puncture from one of his ribs, or another bone. This was too much, he was already weakened to the point where he knew that he wasn’t going to end this fight. Once he realized that he hadn’t been paying attention to where Weylyn went, his eyes jolted to the wolf. He was too late.
His life flashed before his eyes. The beautiful pelt of his soulmate ran along the shore of the creek in Lasonia. She was playing with something, a couple things. He could only see the movement of them through the bushes, so he looked around. There they were. His pups. Some precious little items of his life that he will never be able to see. He knew that this moment was inevitable from the start, but he refused to face it. They kept playing and then Raphael caught sight of him. Her eyes were twinkling magnificently underneath this moonlight. She really was beautiful. And after this moment, he would wait for her with Halasia … patiently letting her life go on.
This was the moment. Fangs went into his neck, puncturing the jugular. Right on target. His body went numb at first, and then limp. He wouldn’t try to fight back, it would only make his death more painful. The blood went out like water coming from a mop … and then he turned cold. Right before he died he found the eyes of his love, and made sure not to look at her with the expected desperation. He looked at her with a look that said, I love you, and I’ll patiently be waiting for you. With that, his heart stopped. A beat that would no longer pound the lands of Halasia. But his soul would continue to watch the borders, protecting his litter and his pups. A single tear trailed down his eyes right before his heart stopped, for he would never be able to truly see his pups. But they will be strong. Azzuen’s blood will be in them. And Azzuen knew that Weylyn would make sure these pups would grow up well, even though this wolf killed him … he found a way to trust him.
His soul came out from his body and ascended into the infinite sky. Halasia was awaiting him, and she smiled a welcoming smile. Azzuen was home. But she gave him the ability to let his soul roam Lasonia to protect this pack, so it had the potential to be even stronger than it is. Azzuen forgave Weylyn for what he had done, because it was something that instinct had told him to do. So he will keep this pack alive and well, and guide it through harsh times. Forever and always, even after his love accompanies him.
OOC: Hope this is good enough for a final post with him, got a little choked up from writing it, since I got so into it lol
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Post by Weylyn Tokalawaya on May 15, 2010 22:48:02 GMT -5
Weylyn felt his blows connect, felt blood flow into his mouth, felt the heat of his opponent growing colder every minute. He watched the enemy, who would've been a friend under different circumstances. Weylyn could feel himself being dragged away and in his place was a cold blooded murderer, who, at the moment, didn't give a shit about the life in front of him. Only after Weylyn had lunged did he see Raphael and his teeth drank the blood of Azzuen straight from the neck. Why was she here? Her presence made his sin all the more visible to him; he had killed another. He saw the light go out of Azzuen's eyes, pictured himself there where Azzuen was, with pups and a mate. Would he end with the same fate? Getting killed by some amateur Dragga wannabe? The wolf released his teeth, took a few steps back, and looked on with a vague sense of distance. He wasn't really there. This was all a dream. The bitter taste of blood in his mouth was not Azzuens. He did not kill him in front of his mate, he didn't kill him at all!
And yet, the pain of his wounds brought him back to Earth. Inside he was a turmoil. Raphael was a witness to his sin; she would tell everyone about the murder he had performed. What would this mean to everyone? That he was strong enough to lead, or he was too coldblooded to win without killing. Would they believe that Azzuen would've killed him? The large wolf felt incredibly small compared to everything. No one was there; no one felt the agony he did. He saw the light in Azzuen's eyes die. He saw the last flicker of love toward his mate. He saw how much Azzuen lost. Weylyn couldn't handle much more of it. He looked sorrowfully at Raphael, as if he had just lost his best friend in the world by his own fault. His rump touched the ground and his head was tossed up, howling a long, drawn out song of despair. He was a killer. He was a murderer.
How could he celebrate his victory? He hadn't won. He had taken away a mate, a father, a lover. Weylyn had destroyed another wolf's life, even though he vowed he would never do that. Was being ruler of a pack so important? Even if Azzuen's ghost came down and forgave him, Weylyn would never feel any better about this. His heart was ripping to shreds, looking at Azzuen's mate. He backed away a little more. Would she come at him? Would she fight? Would he fight back? No, he would let her attack him. He would let her rip him to pieces and not move a single inch. She deserved that much. And the pack, too. They could all take their swing at him. Who would stop them? He wouldn't.
Rioga might. Rioga. What would she think of him? Would she hate him now, because he was a murderer, and because he did it once he could do it again? Weylyn didn't want that. He didn't want anyone disapproving of him. He didn't want Azzuen to die, and yet there he was, the blood in him running cold and his mangled body brought down by Weylyn. Weylyn had suffered damage, too. Why not more? Why didn't he let the old wolf get a few shots in, if he was going to kill him? He knew the long gash on his forehead, down over the side of his muzzle, would turn into a disgusting scar, forever reminding him of the cruel act he had committed. Who would come to his howl? Who would want to see this gruesome scene?
Only Raphael was there, and he backed away farther, hoping not to pollute the air around her mate, and allowing her to say her goodbyes.
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Post by Raphael Samedi on Jun 2, 2010 17:14:24 GMT -5
Pained moans and yelled sounded in her throat as she stood there frozen looking at her mate. Her heart was shattering into a million pieces and she didn’t have a clue what to do. Finally she looked away from Azzuen and looked to Weylyn, the beast that was covered in her mates blood. She should have been angry, she should have charged at him and taken him down, but she didn’t. She just didn’t have the strength left to fight. Her heart was broken and she was no all alone in the world. What would become of her now? Looking away from Weylyn and bounded over to her dying mate and nuzzled his bloody face gently. Slowly lowering herself down on her front legs she placed her head over Azzuen’s and gave out a huff. She closed her eyes and wept her tears splattering Azzuen’s bloody and mattered fur.
“I’m sorry Azzuen, I will love you forever and so will your pup’s” she said her eyes flickering open again for a moment and slowly closing again. “I will tell them all about you they will honour you even in death” she said and choked back a howl. Behind her there was a loud howl and it made her jump slightly but she didn’t move from where she was. She wanted to stay there forever and never leave him. She didn’t want to go on without him. She didn’t know if she could, she needed to be strong for her pups that would soon come into the world without a father to protect them and teach them the ways of life. She would have to try and be both role models. Was Weylyn calling for help, would they come to defend him? Let them come she didn’t care. They might as well finish her off as well. Why not destroy her whole family in one day. Who would miss her?
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