Woof
The plum man's head jostled with the collison as his fangs found purchase within his opponent's mane. Though the taste of blood trickled into his mouth, it was not the flood he knew would come had he attained a deeper hold. No, his grip wouldn't last long in this position, but it didn't need to. The taste of blood was at least enough to urge the beast onward, however. These seconds spent assessing his own hold left the hound open to the Obsidian king's jaws as they came barreling for his chest. Fangs pierced the fleshy muscle beneath his mane, prompting a snarl from the dog's throat to erupt. Unlike his own bite, Vermier's was a bit deeper, firmer. Auburn locks turned a dark crimson as the blood seeped steadily from the hold.
Feeling the king's head move beneath him, the Dog aimed to tighten his bite while at the same time yanking his own head backwards, seeking to rip whatever flesh he held between his teeth with him. Feeling his claws trickle down the side of his opponent was disappointing, but still he had felt the split of skin beneath his talons before the limb made its way back to the ground. With Vermier's jaws gripping at his chest, though, at least the hound knew where his opponent's head would be. That same right limb lifted once more, leaving the dog's weight situated over his other three grounded limbs. Claws exposed again, but this time they aimed higher. Another brash and forceful attack would be aimed to the top of the king's head, attempting to drag the rogue's hooked claws straight down the front of the brown lion's face.
No fights in progress
No fights in progress
No fights in progress
Dominance
2/3
Hits:
Dodges:
Luck:
Please do not seek permission or give notice before attacking this character, but do tag after!
ooc: good luck!
True satisfaction was the feeling of warm, bloody flesh between his jaws when the Fröhlich managed to pull away from his opponent's body with a bit of king still held between his teeth. He was not a Dieudonne, however, and thus didn't seek to eat the scrap of would-be food as the hound quickly spat it out to the side in order to free up his jaws once more. At least, a dog didn't eat until his master allowed it.... when he had a master, that is. No, there was still a point to be made here before one might seek to celebrate with a meal.
A fresh dose of adrenaline flooded the plum rogue's system with his pound of flesh claimed. It still was not enough to dull the sensation of jaws digging deeper into his own body when Vermier shoved himself forward. The dog was forced backwards an inch or two, finding little traction in the sandy terrain as his claws slipped right through them. Blood continued to seep steadily from the wounds, now carelessly falling to the ground beneath them, but the hound was too stubborn to back off just yet. He would rely on his slight size advantage to keep himself grounded, even hoping that the dampening of his own blood to the sand might help compact the particles and make him less likely to be bowled over. Muscles and claws strained against the shove as the dog's right forelimb collided with the king's crown. In a last-ditch effort to keep his balance, the rogue attempted to shift his right paw more towards the left side of Vermier's face as it dragged across the brown man's forehead. The plum lion hoped to find a fleshier part of his opponent's face that might provide a better chance of finding a grip to help anchor his weight to. Whether or not that succeeded, however, the mutt also would spring forward his jaws once more, this time aiming for the king's right ear. If he was going down, he was going to try and take the Obsidian lion with him.
for Dominance
3/3
Hits:
Dodges:
Luck:
His ears ground themselves back, slanted to mat down his mature mane, but they were still a decent looking target and Vermier felt fangs scrape along the back of his right ear from scalp to the base of the ear. Mane bled and he felt an obnoxious, somehow sand-textured shiver up his spine. The thin fur along the ear was stripped with deeper scratches where his mane tore from his skin. Vermier was suddenly not a fan of how this fight was going. Just because he'd come here looking for a fight didn't mean he wanted one that he could possibly lose. He snarled and aimed to jerk his jaws upward, trying to tear away at whatever grip he may possess, while also trying to strike his right claws against the enemy's left foreleg.
Dominance
3/3
Hits:
Dodges:
Luck:
Please do not seek permission or give notice before attacking this character, but do tag after!
Dog Hits: 4+3+4+6 luck = 16
Dog Dodges: 3+2+2 = 7
Vermier Hits: 4+3+2+4 luck = 13
Vermier Dodges: 4+1+4 = 9
Vermier Successful Hits: 6
The dog managed to keep his balance when his claws found purchase along the king's left brow. Keeping himself righted was a struggle, however, while his opponent still tore into the rogue's chest. The mongrel couldn't help himself from wondering if this was common occurrence upon these lands. Granted, it had been his own fault for instigating the fight in the first place, but still. The questions, the blockade. Perhaps he should have quickened his pace when the multitude of scents first hit his nostrils. No taking it back now, though, he supposed.
Though the combat was quick and brief, it all seemed to tick by so slowly. Even if the mutt couldn't pinpoint the exact location of his opponent's ear as it lay buried in the man's mane, he still knew about where it should lay, assuming @Vermier had ears under there at all. The hound wasn't ignorant to the idea of hiding one's ears, after all. Fangs were met with a brief greeting of teeth to flesh as the rogue managed to snuff out the king's ear and gain another taste of blood in the process.
Without a master to command him, the rogue was left to his own instincts of when to call off the fight. What constituted the end of something so simple as this? Was it worth dying over? No, not at all. Then again, he could have just given his name and avoided all this in the first place. The constant ache in his chest had almost grown dull already as Vermier held on, only to be reignited when the king snatched his own pound of flesh. The Obsidian man would walk away with a mouthful of mane, certainly, and the portion of skin to which it had previously been attached. Even a few scraps of flesh would tag along for the ride. The real take away, however, would be the deep, gaping puncture wounds left behind by the king's canines. A patch of crimson quickly soaked up the location on his chest the moment Vermier's head was pulled away while a wretched snarl erupted from the dog's throat. In the process of pulling his head upwards, the rogue felt his claws fall from the king's face, all points of contact momentarily ceased before the hound's left leg was assaulted. A blunt smack of claws against his leg left a set of clean lacerations right across the appendage. Luckily, the rogue managed to replace his right leg to the ground before losing balance completely. He stumbled slightly to his right before firmly placing all paws back to the ground, dual-toned gaze glaring at his opponent. Something told him this had been enough already. Since he had started it, maybe he should be the one to end it. "Have I paid my toll yet, sire?" the beast glowered. Though his head hung low, his eyes sought to pierce right through the king. Jaws slacked while his tongue rasped over the fresh blood still clinging to his muzzle. What a good dog to know when to stop even without a master's command. Only while he finally stopped for a moment, staring down his 'enemy' did the rogue finally notice that another had joined them, spying @Hubert from the corner of his eye. Too bad his words had been lost on the mutt, he'd pretty much already forgotten whatever he had been talking to @Alexander ♔ about as well, for that matter.
"Eez sufficient." Manipulative instinct said not to give this one too much of a reward, since he seemed to want one. Any sarcasm or deadpan intent was lost on Vermier, who was certain he deserved to be obeyed in any case. If this one wished to serve then Vermier would accept and not look too much into it. Males were like thick puddles of oil. You couldn't see through them but they were never too deep anyhow. "You name eez Bite, now," he chanced, a test, just to see if he was correct in thinking he had won this one's loyalty somehow. Not that he should have to win anyone's loyalty. He should simply receive it as the self-evidently superior creature that he was. But... sometimes one had to pretend, cater to the masses and such.
@Dog
Please do not seek permission or give notice before attacking this character, but do tag after!
The brown king remained the only speaker, leaving the dog's attention to linger even longer on @Vermier. Catching his accented and broken tongue, the rogue wondered what the man's native language was. Even the plum lion's own voice was a telltale sign of his origins. Or perhaps the beast was just slow. Whatever the case, the Dieudonne deemed it fit to give the mongrel a name of his own choosing.Bite. How creative, but the Frolich refrained from letting his eyes roll. A moment was spent in debate, if he should let the slow king choose his own name or if the dog should correct him. In the end, if the mutt was to have a moniker, it would be the one he might actually answer to.
"Dog," the rogue corrected with a single, clipped syllable. "Not Bite." Only a mild explanation was added as an after thought just to make sure the man knew he wasn't simply calling his opponent a dog. "Now what?" The hound questioned, dual-toned gaze now looked between all three of the males. He had paid his toll, blood being his entrance fee. Was he to fight each of them? Did he have to persuade them still to pass? The customs here were strange already, but there was no going back the way he came.
And Hubert's certainly not wrong. The young Starke instinctively steps back to give the larger males their space when the fight suddenly broke out between them. Interesting. Hubert's not entirely certain of what set it off, but then, no one had ever said that a rogue male couldn't just get fed up with the recruiters. Hubert would be annoyed about being ignored if @Dog and @Vermier didn't provide such a lively show.
The (rather oddly named, as it turns out) stranger proves Hubert's earlier assessment right by emerging victorious when the dust settled. Though it doesn't immediately seem like much else was settled. 'Now what?' is the question that the man asks next, and Hubert shrugs from where he sits, a sharp eyebrow raising slightly.
Now you get to pick. Do you want to keep fighting for yourself? Or for one of us?Was the brute truly so unfamiliar with the concept? Either he pledged allegiance to a Prince, a King, or...whatever @Alexander ♔ was. Or he simply carried on his way.
Did it even need to be said what outcome Hubert would prefer?
It would be the small, young man who would seek to answer the rogue's question, though it only lead to more questions within the hounds mind than answers. He had to pick now? Pick what? @Hubert explained that he could either continue to fight for himself or to fight for one of them. The mongrel remained silent for a time with this notion. A brow raising as he seemed to weight his options. Long hard stares were spared upon each of them, not caring what they thought of his blatant analyzing.
The boy. Young, oddly striped, and small. A stench clung to his pelt like muddied waters. What could he possibly have to offer the rogue? A wiser man might ask questions, but the dog had never been afforded that luxury. He didn't know the customs here, that he was allowed to ask questions before making a decision, or the fact that he didn't have to pick one of them at all. Freedom was an entirely foreign concept to the hound that had lived so long under someone else's command. No, not the boy.
What about the first lion? A large and exuberantly-colored beast. A sandy scent about him which lead the dog to imagine a barren expanse as a home. Dark colors such as his own did not do well without shade. Plus the initial opinions created upon first encountering @Alexander ♔ did not bode well for him in the rogue's mind. It was a pity that the hound did not realize these were not the true commanders he would serve should he pick any one of them. Well, at least not the first two he looked over. No, not the Andal man either.
But then that only left @Vermier, his opponent. There was something unremarkable about the broken-tongued man that almost appealed to the beast. Smaller than himself, but not opposed to battle. It had not been missed that the Obsidian man had not backed down in battle. Even if the dog had overpowered him this time, perhaps it was a good thing to know, or assume anyway, that should he need to, he could overtake his leader. If that leash ever got too tight, the hound knew how to bite through it. Yes, maybe the king was his best option.
"You," the rogue finally spoke with his dual-toned gaze set firmly upon the Dieudonne. He offered nothing else in explain his decision, only waiting for the king's acceptance of the choice made. Would the defeated monarch even accept someone who had already attacked him once?