WE'RE BORN INTO THE GRAVE

There is little to gather in details during the heat and savor of battle, and time is not a factor that Gauthier lets slip so idly. It did not matter to him when his teeth sunk into the hard knit of muscle that it was not ridden with the scent of Vermeda, nor did it matter that he did not recognize his opponent. All that was certain was the delight of warm blood as it coated the lining of his lips, gathering lusciously on the bed of his tongue – all that mattered was the split of flesh beneath the cleaving of his teeth and the satisfying sink of his claws into his assailant’s tight back.

Pain met it, dulled by the rush of adrenaline, as Reti’s teeth tugged through the mesh of fur and meat at the peak of his shoulder. Hot and ragged and nostalgic, the breaking of his skin was collateral to the utmost pleasure of his desired artistry. While for one it is personal, for him it is simply business, the craft of bleeding prey, of rendering it useless piece by piece.

They are mirrored for a moment, teeth to shoulder, though when Reti’s fangs pluck and break from the roll of his shoulder, tearing slivers of skin and fat and slicing the thin rind of muscle, Gauthier’s own have successfully clenched their hold on tender meat. With his claws anchored into the taut muscles against the beast’s spine, he snarled as his hips shifted away from Reti’s side – but not before the smack of his claws collided with the underside of his ribs, snagging briefly before raking off into the free air.

His shoulder free, albeit rawness pounding and awash in blood, Gauthier attempted to wrench his bite on his own purchase, simultaneously attempting to shove his claws deeper into the lion’s lats for leverage with every intention of ripping away his own mouthful.

@Reti ♔ vs. Gauthier
Minor Maim (TBD)
Round 2 of 4
Hits:

Rolling 9d20: 11 + 15 + 1 + 13 + 17 + 3 + 20 + 10 + 4

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 8 + 16 + 18 + 6

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 1 + 2 + 10 + 11 + 16

+5 - observe a fight (louve/valiant va dio/narsil)
+5 - observe a fight (reti vs gauthier)
+5 - observe a fight (helah vs walpurgis)

manon has been called to war and she is eager to answer. the yearling pulls up alongside the rest of the wolfbron group, their ranks tight and closed against the chaos unfurling on the lagoon's sands. red eyes duvet the tangled bodies, landing first on one who had once been a familiar presence in the bluffs - helah - locked in a deadly battle with a woman that manon doesn't recognize. her faith, obviously, lies with helah even if members of the oasis seem to stand with the other side. manon watches only long enough for another form to catch her eye - gauthier - recognized as familiar, seen alongside the doomed firnen dieudonné sisters.

his opponent is another that manon does not know, though their fight is a brutal, interesting watch. her attention is rapt only until a fight breaks out much closer. her mother and a pride mate become embroiled in a fight with two who reek of the lagoon and manon's teeth flash. the blood of gods - of course - would reign as the victor. just like that, red eyes turn to those not yet caught up in a fight, roving to pick out an opponent of her own.

(manon is open to fights up to minor maims.)

coding by daanyen | art by rabbit

TRIGGER WARNING!
This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for graphic descriptions of violence/gore.
They fall together as his claws gouge ever deeper into her flesh, @Rainer refusing to let go of such a sanguine dance partner. With a last push of strength, Morrigan twists her torso and lets go of her grip, leaving them to crash to the earth with her now above him just as his teeth begin to clamp into her throat. One of her paws hit the sand as she jerks backward only barely in time as her right limb presses to his own throat, pinning him down as she staggered upward, unbloodied left eye wide and maddened as she held him there, claws out lest he be tempted to struggle too much, switching finally from their shared tongue for all to hear her words, "Nein, heathen. It is you who will beg the Gods' mercy before the end... because you won't get it from me," her words ended in a snarl as her left claws lifted from the blood-soaked sand to dig into that scarred socket of his left eye to rip said eye from the muscles connecting it.

As it rolled free and bloody down into the splattered sand Morrigan would step back from her work with a sense of deja vu. He had blue eyes, just as Sunníva had. It had even been the same eye.

History repeating itself, adding to the ocean of blood.

The thought did nothing to damper the bloodlust she felt after exacting her revenge a second time on the Rike bastard, the victory only leaving her a with a fresh burst of adrenaline as she turned from him, one eye still sealed shut with blood and most of her ivory fur stained ruby where his unnaturally long claws had sunk deep into her flesh. Her own claws were flexing as she searched for Vermier at first, sorely disappointed to find him otherwise occupied. How rude of him to not wait for her. "Come on then! Who else is fool enough to deny the will of the Gods?" Blood and foam bubbled at her lips as she spit the words at anyone who dared make eye contact with that molten silver eye, willing any of them to come forth and face her divine violence, allowing herself to be lost to the fog of war.

table coding by ferus

She was still hanging out by @Rhea, @Güelle and @Fairytale when Isla's fight would start to come to an end. Mentally, she was on the edge of her seat hoping that the warrior queen would come out on top. And to no one's surprise, the colossal queen would come out on top, proving the power of Lagoon's leadership. Holding her head high as Isla spat words at her challenger before making her way over towards the group she was remaining with. The order to chase them out or kill their enemies was not something the petite woman could do - but as @Isla ♔ came over to them, requesting her assistance, she would immediately rise to her paws.

Grabbing at herbs from her pouch, Rheta would pull a large leave as well. Mixing together frankincense, cape aloe, and usnea, she would then take some moss that had been soaked in water and begin to clean the wounds that had been made on Isla's frame. Once she got them somewhat clean, she would grab some of her poultice on a paw and gently smear it over the wounds as well. "He deserves a fate worse than death for coming after the Lagoon, especially so soon after you have given birth." Rheta would murmur for only Isla to hear. In her homeland, a man like that would be punished severely - potentially even by death - for daring to harm a lioness who had only recently had cubs.

code by corvus

living with honourless cowards.

The sharp bark of laughter erupted from Freja's lips before she could stop it or really think about it. "If I wasn't before, I certainly am now." She snapped, greyscale tail lashing with agitation behind her. Freja's position in the Brook had certainly been unorthodox - she had been taken there and Icefang had agreed to house her. But since she had arrived, the White Queen had given her a rank, allowed her to advance even if it had been incremental. She had agreed, even if technically it had been under duress. And now, she had absolutely no choice in the position she found herself in.

As Colsun declared her "prisoner", the healer felt her stomach knot with anxiety. Even worse, as the blue-eyed male responsible for all of this approached. For several long seconds, Freja stared at the Darkling, hearing his words and not quite knowing what to do with them. Was that a compliment? There is a large part of her that just wants him to fix it, to whisk her away from this place and these people. She held no delusion that he was magic, that he could do that or that he would even if he could. But there is certainly an expectation that Cassius was powerful enough to make it all go away.

The sarcastic snap from one dark male to another was enough for the muddied woman to take a step forward in an almost protective gesture. "You're a hypocritical pile of shit. To speak of peace and honour and then to force a female, against her will, is disgraceful. Your actions speak far louder than your pathetic words." She snarled, before glancing slightly back at Cassius. Wondering what he would think of the fire that had erupted almost on his behalf. "And in case you haven't noticed, I never stepped a paw on Scillan soil. Your borders are over there -" She gestured behind Colsun, back towards the fighting. Freja had been outside the borders when Colsun had approached her and attacked, afterall. "So he already is the fuck out."

Art by Moogle, Code by Minxy

She felt the release of his claws against her face just as teeth clanged against his shoulder, having missed his neck. Not where she wanted, clearly, but she bit down on what she could regardless and laughed through the mouthful of fur at his obvious discomfort when his anger reached her ears. Come on now. Time to give it back to me. Don't make it easy. He began to pull his shoulder free from her mouthy grip and swung again with his left paw, this time for her own shoulder. The movement out the corner of her eye was her only short notice of his fangs coming for her neck.

His claws sunk in easily, hooking just behind her shoulder blade and making it difficult to remove without some serious gashes, but she was able to duck her head just in time. In time to save her neck at least. The heat of his breath engulfed the crown of her head and the sound of each intake and exhale in her ear drowned out everything else around them. Her right arm virtually useless in his grip, she threw her left paw up at his face, aiming for one of those bright, blue eyes.

---

@Noemi vs. @Nikandr
Minor Maim
Round 3 / 4

Hits:

Rolling 4d20: 12 + 13 + 19 + 16

Dodges:

Rolling 5d20: 9 + 18 + 1 + 5 + 3

Luck:

Rolling 6d20: 3 + 6 + 11 + 8 + 16 + 19

ooc: fight started before wounded roll received

code by scorpixia♡︎

TRIGGER WARNING!
This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for mentions of [eye removal and gore]

At first, he thought he really had passed out. Neither eye saw anything but black, at least. But wait. By thinking he'd passed out, he must still be conscious, right? Why was there nothing to see then? The shift of the woman's weight and the distance she placed between them caused him to start and he lifted his head from where it lie on the sand. Instant bright light from the sun overhead. Instant movement from the fighting continuing around them. Instant recognition of the woman he'd been fighting standing before him. But only with his right eye. Where was the vision in his left? Where was the pain that had been there only moments before where there was now only black?

He head whipped around, completely disoriented, to get a better look. At @Isla ♔, triumphant in her staunch defense. At @Diomedeidae, still battling the unknown man. At her; the woman before him. At her dripping red mouth, blood blending in with the red of her fur poking through the black that had worn away during their exchange. A better look at the missing eye at her paws, almost unrecognizable from the coating of blood and sand where it had rolled after falling.

He felt the wetness falling through the fur on his left cheek. Was he crying? How, if there was no longer an eye to produce the tears. Confused, he looked down to see blood dripping. Splashing onto the white sands. Dripping from his face. And there was the pain. White hot. Excruciating. It came all at once as the realization of what happened truly set in. But he had prayed. He had offered. And this is what they gave him in return? Or rather, took from him? More than he had ever imagined? Was his offering not enough for what he'd asked for? Was this the price for Isla's victory? For Dio to remain safe?

He called out as his vision began to tunnel again and he stumbled away from the woman; called out for any of the Scillan healers, his voice weaker and weaker with the increasing blood loss. He dare not look back, praying again—potentially in vain—that she dare not follow him into the waiting arms of his pridemates.

@Astarte

---

@Bordeaux @Rheta @Rhea @Heloise - Tagged you all if anyone wants to help?

art by muuland, code by lars

She feels the piercing of her flesh, the bleeding of hot blood trickling down her arm towards her elbow. Dio inhales a sharp gasp and flails her limb and paw towards @Velasco's cheek. She wrenches her paw downwards quickly towards his neck- pushing him away from her with all the strength she could muster. (Dio has given Velasco some facial scarring.) Her head pounds, the madness vision of the jungle begins to fade to grey as she stumbles away from Velasco- looking upon him wild eyed, alarmed, as she sees him truly clearly for the first time and discerns this was not her father.

Her vision then starts to swims between clear and blurry. Everything in her sight is pulsing along to the rhythm of her heart whether it be what she saw at the Lagoon or what visions plagued her. She feels a pull, a hand of some other force guiding her to look to the side. There is @Matthieu upon the ground, subtly moving but evident in his suffering. The jungle and the scene from the past faded away. Spirits pulled back their veil and pressed upon her to watch as this other figure straddled over him and wrenched away part of his body. She screams, it sounds like nothing to her as blood pounds and all things fall silent.

He was real. This was real.

She lunges towards his attacker, urged on by whispers into another battle. One she was more than willing to engage in, more than happy to feed whatever bloodlust this malicious presence of hers had. There was clarity for the first time as Dio lunged in and aimed to barrel both of her forepaws into Astarte's left shoulder and attempt to push her to the side, to attempt and keep her from pursuing Matti and pull her into combat once again.

Diomedeidae vs @Astarte
Minor Maim
Round: 1 / 4
Hits:

Rolling 3d20: 11 + 1 + 19

Dodges:

Rolling 3d20: 17 + 3 + 1

Luck:

Rolling 6d20: 12 + 7 + 17 + 1 + 19 + 4

ART BY RABBIT , CODE BY LARS

He feels the rumble of laughter from where her mouth is wrapped around his flesh. Confusion flares through him - what the fuck was wrong with the women in this place? - but he stamps it down, gritting his teeth against the pain that pulses through him. They thrash and rage against one another, her grip holding fast even as he turns. It jerks at the flesh, tugging loose the surface layers and making him hiss out a breath even as his claws strike true. They dig in deep around her shoulder blade and tug, keeping her close - but she's still quick and manages to duck her head before his teeth impact on her. Instead of the side of her neck, they glance off the top of her skull and he angles, hoping to dig furrows into the thin skin there, but ultimately abandoning any attempt at a grip. He's pulling his head back, tucking it close into his neck to protect his throat when she retaliates.

Noemi's left paw swings up from her lowered position and snagging into his lower eyelid. FUCK- he roars, jerking his head instinctively away and tearing the claws down his cheek. His eye slams shut but blood pours down the side of his face, painting white fur red, and rage pulses. He attempts to push down with the claws he has sunk into her shoulder while simultaneously driving down with his open jaws, aiming for the back of her neck, in an attempt to sink fangs into the flesh and slam her to the earth.

Nikandr vs. @Noemi
Minor Maim
Round 3 / 4
Hits:

Rolling 5d20: 18 + 16 + 6 + 4 + 2

Dodges:

Rolling 4d20: 12 + 16 + 15 + 2

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 14 + 9 + 11 + 18 + 19

_{BG — ART — CODE}

He could understand. He did understand - and more than anything he wanted to tell her, to hold her and hope that his touch could soothe her. But that was unrealistic and this wasn't a fairy tale. Dominic's influence over Madgalena was weak in comparison to the fire that raged within her. Apart of him envied her of this anger, this fury that blazed and pushed her, sparked her to life. By comparison he was empty. A shell, with nothing to fill that void except others.

But those feelings were exactly why he acted in this moment. As she thrashed in his gripe, Dominic did his best to not let up. Claws caught on flesh, clipping his face and limbs a bit; irritation bubbles inside of him and he tries to keep his temper in check. She does managed to get away, but Dominic frantically scrambles to get up and attempts to grab Magdalena by her scruff before she can get too far from him. He wanted to say something, to tell her it would be okay. But what could he say that would fix any of this?

Dominic vs. @Magdalena
For Major Maim
0 1 2 3 4
Hits:

Rolling 5d20: 16 + 4 + 11 + 8 + 7

Dodges:

Rolling 1d20: 2

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 9 + 10 + 20 + 8 + 17