OOC: Takes place after the Deuce fight, so he is quite wounded.


Lubomir had slept away from Shadowed Sun, close to the lapping waves. It wasn't as bad as in the fight with Gabriel, probably because he'd tried truly hard to stay away from any wolves. He'd washed in the salty water, the stinging cold and salt making him wince and groan. But he'd got the dust out of his wounds. The last thing he needed was to have an infection from being an idiot. He had made a grave mistake in Twilight Vale and sometimes he wondered when they would come to haunt him. The female had known Tayui and a sinking feeling in his gut told him he might be in for it. Would they cast him out? Would they refuse to speak to him? His sleep had been fitful and soon, the early dawn woke him.


The first thought was that it was awfully foggy. And cold. He'd woken up wet, so perhaps another storm had hit during the night. He wondered, for a moment, how it had not woken him. Lubomir shook himself and slowly started walking back towards Shadowed Sun. He half-expected to be met by Pilot and Tayui telling him to move on. Where to? Labyrinth Glen? Would Ember's pack take him in, when they heard about his deeds? Or would they cast him out and never speak to him again? And what then? Go back? Never. He would not survive another crossing. Go to Gabriel and let him finish what he'd started? That too was a coward's exit. Perhaps Skoll would be on his side. That would certainly be an improvement. And a shot and staying in the pack. These were the thoughts that plagued the grey wolf as he wearily made his way back.


The scent hit him on the edge of the borders. Coyote. He froze, inhaling deeply, trying to make out the steely edge of it. It was not Asphyxia, or Gabriel, he'd remember their scents. Someone else in their pack? It could be. Perhaps the war Haku had spoken of would drag Shadowed Sun into the midst of the fighting. He squinted through the heavy fog and saw the figure advancing. His eyes widened. This was no Inferni coyote. This was some sort of war machine. His heart started racing and his breath came in short agonising gasps. Lubomir felt sweat break on his forehead and fear grip his throat. What was she, for her scent belied her gender? Some warrior from the dead? A creature of brute force and blood lust? He did the only sane thing he could do. He ran.


The ground beneath his feet was liquid as Lubomir ran deep into the packlands, howling. He didn't know if anyone was awake at this hour, but at least they could hear him. 'Intruder! In the pack lands!' His lungs burnt with the pain and fatigue and still he kept on running, hoping someone would heed his cry.

Skoll. Shifted. Carrying weapons. The thought bounced off the insides of Lubomir's head and he found himself skidding to a halt, panting, his insides burning with pain and the wounds on him opening up to dribble blood on his fur. He took short breaths, to stop the pain inside, to make sure there was some sort of way around this coyote. And then, to his surprise, she engaged Skoll in some kind of banter. They knew each other, that much was obvious, and there must have been some sort of unfinished business between them. She was formidable, her armour making the grey wolf tremble slightly. He had never seen or heard of something like this, a creature whose pure purpose seemed to be destruction. The names meant nothing to Lubomir, though Skoll had mentioned a war between the packs. But not her, she must have been someone who did not feature in his tales. And he could now see why.


Before he could fully comprehend the meaning of Skoll's words he was tearing into the pack lands, drawing breath to call for Tayui or Pilot. And then Lubomir stopped. Running. He was always running. Away from his past, danger, fights, always looking to save his own skin. Skoll was going to fight this creature on his own. On his own. Lubomir growled to himself and started running back towards Skoll, all thoughts of warning the rest of the pack a mere haze in the back of his mind. 'Skoll!' He called out from a few feet away, his eyes locked on the female. 'I called them. I'm staying here.' He'd never lied to his friend before. But Lubomir could bet his tail that Skoll would turn on him, in his bid to protect the pack.

OOC: I keep holding all this up, don't I? Sorry for the slight psychedelic touch


They scared him. Fear coursed through his body. He tried desperately to reach into his beast, to call him out, but the monster was silent. Lubomir was alone, faced with Skoll and the coyote, their bodies so tense with the fight that he thought they might tip over with one light touch. He'd never seen two wolves so desperate for a fight. And he'd lied to Skoll. While his words rang true, Lubomir could do little to heed them. He gravitated from one point to another and finally tore back into the heart of the pack, yelling for the leaders. 'Tayui! Pilot! Fight! Intruder!' He skidded to a halt and listened.


Scuffling noises were coming from the fight and he teetered once more. Wait here? Go back? He'd never felt so powerless, never. He could do nothing for them, he was a coward and Skoll would die, leaving the female to pick them off one by one. He dug his claws into the earth. The fog was still sticky in the air and it made him all the more restless. With one turn he was running back to the fight, growling, trying to fight the fear and bile rising in his throat. Would Skoll be alive still? As Lubomir neared the site of the two fighters once more he noticed Skoll's arm. No. Ice cold, his blood was liquid ice and they would die and he'd never told Ember he loved her and Mew would be killed. His thoughts spiralled and for a moment he thought he would faint.


One-Eye came to him. He looked sober, worried, Lubomir had never seen so much concern written in his face. One-Eye was talking to him and his ears were filled with fluff, he couldn't hear a word. Frigg was there now. Beautiful Frigg. She was saying things to and he could hear her. About how strong he was. About how the coyote was a worthless fighter. About how Skoll had given him friendship. And how Lubomir and he had traded stories. That was something to be cherished. If Skoll died, Shadowed Sun might fall. And it depended on Lubomir. And couldn't he do the right thing? Wasn't he that strong? And what would Ember and Mew think? One-Eye nodded. Frigg faded. Vision came to his eyes in time to see Skoll backing away. Lubomir could do this.


Recklessly he jumped into the fray, sitting just to the left of Skoll, still in wolf form. Deuce's wounds throbbed and he winced, but he held his ground. No more running. Not any more. 'Hey, demon!' His cry sounded feeble. He drew more air and yelled louder, 'Coyote freak! Too tough to fight little wolves?' It was stupid. It was insane. It could get him killed. Skoll would scream at him for hours if he lived long enough for it. But Lubomir wouldn't back down now. He was not the coward from the Old Country. He was of Shadowed Sun and if Skoll fell, he would fall by his friend's side.


506 words

OOC: I have amazing skills at holding up threads. I have no excuse for this whatsoever D:


The smell of blood was overwhelming, intoxicating, sickly, sticking to his throat, making him gag. Never, in his worst dreams, had he thought of this. Fighting. For no cause other than a friend in need. For although Lubomir was a weak, pathetic fighter with little skill, he knew devotion. But now, despite the blood and violence, the fog refused to fall before his eyes. The rationality remained and it scared him. His wild, animal side could tackle this but he refused to do anything but that back and watch, chuckling to himself. This coyote amused him and he did not see her worthy of fighting.


With every brisk movement a renascent shot of pain criss-crossed his body, doubling his vision. Gabriel's wound throbbed violently and where Umbra had grazed his chest had barely started to scab. Deuce's wound were open and bleeding and he knew, in his heart, that she could kill him with one well-placed blow. That now he needed to stay strong and not be destroyed by the pain. Because Skoll needed him. Her shot caught him off-guard, but he managed to scramble backwards and only his front left leg was grazed, a new bleeding red flower spreading through his fur. In a daze, he remembered that Pilot did some healing. That he might help them both, if they survived. And then he thought of what it would be like to have the entire pack decimated by this crazy coyote, Lubomir and Skoll's bodies lying here in a tangled mess.


It was Skoll's cry which made him snap out of it. No. No tangled messes of broken flesh. He had promised them. Mew and Haku. He had promised them his friendship. He had a word to keep. No running. No hiding. No back down. 'If I get stabbed, I get stabbed here and now. If she harms me, kill her.' He had lowered his voice enough for Skoll to hear. 'And tell Ember she gave me the best days of my life.' It felt pathetic to ask for more. Skoll was a warrior, not a poet. But if he survived, Lubomir was certain the yellow wolf would pass on the message. He would. He had to. He turned his gaze back to SteelRose and snarled, baring his teeth, his first aggressive gesture without the animal to fall back on. And he shot a glance at Skoll. Lubomir needed a cue, a word, a sign to distract the crazy one enough to give Skoll an opening. He could only pray to Fenrir that their stamina would last that long.

OOC: Yep, no problem with powerplay. Lubomir would definitely not hang around XDD ETA: Short post, sorry >_>


Lubomir let out a low malediction. This coyote would not die. And he could feel the last dregs of his energy seeping away into the wet earth, as if the fog itself had crept into his bones and dried them, making them brittle. He found himself panting, low gasping noises that made his throat hurt. He had to end it, one way or another. Thin tendrils of despair crept into his heart, cold curling fingers, thoughts of doom and death flooding his mind. Eventually, the scuffles of the fight became distant noise, though the monster obstinately refused to come out. When Skoll's voice broke through the haze, Lubomir reacted without allowing any more thoughts to cross his mind.


Her armour was tough against his good shoulder and the collision threw him completely off balance. It hurt. It hurt badly. All his bones hurt. And her shield hit his head, his eyes blurring and stars dancing before his vision. He fell over and waited for her blow. He waited for the cold lick of steel to pierce his side. And then nothing. He opened one eye, as if to check he was still alive. He was. So was Skoll. The coyote was dead. Slowly, painfully, Lubomit got up but his front legs gave way and he fell to the ground again. 'Is she... dead?' His own voice sounded strained to his ears and Lubomir thanked Fenrir he was alive. It came to him now. He was alive.

    


     She had heard the howl. It had been some time ago, for she had been so far away. She was on the other side of the pack lands, and she had wasted much time simply getting there. It had Lubomir, proclaiming the existence of an intruder. She did not know if she would be able to help at all, for she was not a fighter- not in any way. The only scuffle she had ever involved herself in had ended in her defeat. Her brother had tried to claw out her eyes. Both were in tact, but somehow, it had stained the iris red. She had read about it in a book, but she could hardly remember why her eye had taken on the colour it had.

     Even so, the presence of the most dominant wolf in the pack was usually enough to scare away an intruder. She had never had to attack anyone all that seriously- what she had done had come naturally to her. One needed to strike with something that could puncture the flesh, be it their claws or teeth. She just hoped that she was not too late to help.

     As she neared the source of the howl, the smell of blood became stronger. A battle had occurred; she hoped it was not one of their own that had fallen. She growled, low in her throat as the strength of the scent continued to grow. “Lubomir.” It was not so much a statement as a question. “Skoll. What's this?” She turned her attention to what appeared to be a coyote lying in a pool of her own blood. She hoped for all their sakes that it was not one from Inferni.

     Hrahhh :] And I'll PM you once I finish some of my other threads so we can hop on that!

     Tayui frowned, exhaling loudly as Skoll began to speak. Inferni. She had suspected it at first- for where else did one find a coyote baptised in such blood?- but it did not mean she expected Skoll to jump to such a conclusion (or think she might). It was troubling that he suspected it had been Inferni; the fear and paranoia that pervaded the wolf packs regarding the coyotes was becoming increasingly obvious. Even so, she was relieved to know that it was not one of them, for that would cause more problems than it would solve. It was even more reassuring to know that Skoll was able to ascertain the coyote's affiliation: none. A rogue coyote- more like a demon from Skoll's past. But the death of every demon came with a price. It seemed as though Skoll and Lubomir had already paid some of that sum with their wounds.

     She glanced over to where Lubomir was lying and felt her heart constrict at the sight of him. She would have liked to call him a fool, but from Skoll's testimony, it seemed as though he were more of a fool-saint, or a hero even. Perhaps a kind rescuer. “Will there be any more problems with any group SteelRose is affiliated with? She doesn't have anyone... looking for her, does she?” The last thing anyone needed was a warrior clan invading these lands, especially one this female was from. Skoll and Lubomir's ragged appearances made it obvious that SteelRose was a killer; a trained assassin. “As for wounds... the only one I know who can treat that that's still alive is Naniko. She used to visit Jaded Shadows. I don't know where she is now, though. We'll have to find her if we have any hope for Lubomir,” she replied with a grimace. The other healers she knew of were Acid and Shaeniire, but both were most likely dead now. She knew one was.

     She was genuinely surprised to find out that Pilot had the qualifications to treat injuries as grave as these. She would never have suspected that he had enough knowledge in medicine to treat, well, anything; practices regarding such things always proved to be elusive to Tayui. She had almost no books on the subject, and knew too few to be able to learn. (Or perhaps she had some books, but simply could not decipher the cryptic words within). She had thought about it, but it had always remained as just a thought. Even though Skoll was certain Pilot would have heard the howl, it would be a good idea to warn him of the situation nonetheless. She lifted her head and howled for the other leader, asking him to meet them at the border.

     There was a period of silence before Tayui decided to address Skoll's last comment. “Even if you say the possibility is low, I'd like for you to scout out the area if Pilot agrees to it. If you're not fit to venture out, possibly into another battle, well... I'd rather you not become a sacrifice. Since we're waiting here, however, we might as well discuss such political ramifications. Is there any way she might have a lover? Kin that might avenge her death? Anyone that might know her whereabouts?” She paused, regarding Skoll intently. “No matter how long of a stretch it is, I want to make sure there will be no issues. She's not from around here; I don't know anything about her or what this means. I'll do everything to ensure the safety of this pack.”

OOC: I know it took forever. I'm sorry for the hold up, guys.




Lubomir shook. His body was shutting down, he knew it. Fighting Deuce, then this coyote, had drained him to the point of exhaustion. Her last exchanges with Skoll, her manner of death, all eluded him. They seemed to pass beyond him and disappear into the cold morning air. He felt like the fog: light, floaty, ghostly white. He could feel his legs giving way, the earth felt so soft beneath his body, his mind shutting down to let in some kind of healing power. His monster, his fiend, opened one lazy yellow eye and grinned at Lubomir. 'You thought you'd play hero again. I wasn't there to save your ass. And what do you do? You charge at her foolishly and nearly get yourself killed.' Lubomir tried to reason with him, to say something, but any possible word he could exhale was just a dapple in the darkness. For it was dark here, dark, cold and lonely. Lubomir knew he's passed out at this point and that he was the prisoner of his other self, of this monster who came out as he pleased. Over which the grey wolf had no control.


Slowly, the edges of this world began to shimmer and he was soon in a green meadow, a green so beautiful and raw he knew he had to be dreaming. The Old Country had never been this green. He couldn't get up, so he simply lay there, until two wolves appeared on the horizon, moving slowly and gracefully, as if they were two feet from the ground, floating. Frigg. One-Eye. He should have known. He even let out a small groan. But they approached silently and soon stood above him and indeed they were floating, such beautiful creatures they seemed, so magical and aloof. His sister was crying. He could see that clearly. One-Eye looked almost over Lubomir's shoulder, to a point on his rump and his expression was blank, but with a hint of disappointment. Painfully, he looked down himself and saw the reason behind their looks: he was dying. Blood seeped from him and turned the beautiful grass a horrid dark red colour. 'You're dying. Brother. Wake up. You're dying.' Her voice. Lubomir quickly glanced at her. She was crying even worse now and One-Eye's expression had not changed. He was dying.


He thought about it. Here, in this haven he was destroying, he could be with them. With his sister and his brother-in-law. And he would let go. Of Skoll, his friend. Of Ember, whom he loved. Of Shadowed Sun, where he belonged. Of all he had achieved, of his great adventure. He could sleep, yes, and rest, and be at one with those he had loved. 'He will blame himself. He is a warrior. Would you like him to blame himself for your death, Varg?' One-Eye was harsher than his mate. He was also a warrior. If he lost one of his own, he would suffer. And Lubomir truly liked Skoll. So why do this to his friend? He looked at his sister and nodded once. She would understand.


When he came to, Skoll was mentioning more fighting. He blinked and picked up Tayui's scent. So she too was here. Slowly, painfully, he got up on all fours, steadying himself and trying not to succumb to the faint again. He was so damn weak, he knew it. He was out of the game for a long while. But if Skoll would push himself, who was Lubomir to act the coward? 'I'm afraid you won't be the only one fighting. You fight, I fight with you, Skoll. Lady Aston, I beg your indulgence for my lack of consciousness. I trust I have no missed much?' His own voice sounded rusty, as if he hadn't used it in a long time. In his head, Lubomir heard the monster chuckle. He chose, wisely, to ignore him. For now.


652 words. Took like 3 days to write it. Grah.

     She was being cruel. She knew this; Skoll's weary gaze was enough evidence for her. She felt bad to be asking him so many questions, ripping apart his mind when it had already been attacked. She knew she should stop, but the drive to continue was powerful. Just a little more, just a few more questions was what her mind told her. Her words would not kill Skoll, nor would they severely injure him like the rogue coyote. She could continue harassing him, but it would be for nought. She nodded, sufficiently pleased with his reply; she would mull over the implications later.

     “Thank you, Skoll,” she replied, her words coming out as nearly a whisper. They were faint, but they carried her determination. Although she doubted Skoll would hear it, it only mattered to her. That she had said it, or at least thought it. Perhaps she had not even said it at all.

     She would not allow any more harm to come to her members. They deserved that much from their leader. She frowned as she heard movement coming from Lubomir's direction. He groaned quietly. She watched him, glancing at Skoll quickly, then moved toward Lubomir.

     He moved, pushing himself onto all fours. Tayui refrained from growling at him, barking at him to sit down and stop this foolishness at once. But she contained herself; she knew that harsh words would not heal any injury. “If you are to even consider fighting in the future, you will sit yourself down. It cannot be helped that you lost consciousness, but if you try to push yourself, you will gain nothing.” She kept her words cool, free of the acid that nearly threatened to consume her. All she could feel was anger. First a rogue coyote attacked her pack members, injured them, hurt them, and then she hurt one of them more with her questioning. She would not stand by as Lubomir forced himself to move, thus injuring himself further. “However, a thank you is in order. Perhaps it is not appropriate for this sort of situation, but thank you, both of you. Your actions may have spared the lives of many others.” She knew she would hate herself if she did not bring her temper under control, for she was wavering between being cold and distant to rash and angry. She would accomplish nothing if she did not consider her words before she spoke, or her actions before she moved.