[M] London Bridges

WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

(000) ooc text here.

Pale colored paws carried her forward through the well worn rout of patrol that she took from day to day, the terrain smelled of her and a few other fighters who'd taken it upon themselves to be sure that no one slipped into their midst from the outside that was not welcome there. Red pine needles littered the forest floor as she walked, pushing them out from her path with sliding feet. She wielded the weapon that her mate had bestowed her, when he'd told her that he believed in her, and that he knew that she could take all the bad that it represented and create something new and good, like a phoenix rising again from the ashes of it's own brilliant funeral pyre. But she wasn't a phoenix, she was just a fire, low burning, giving off little warmth, but still taking life.She gripped the scythe high up on the snath, close to the blade, while she let the end of it drag in the dust from her limp appendage. The journey that she and Lukos had gone on together was a good one, she'd had fun, and for the first time in a long while she was... happy.

She wanted to go back there, to the place where she could be carefree, without the burden of this work, the constant battles waging on around her as well as within. When she was with him, she'd begun to find that her energy was returning, the light behind her eyes was beginning to rekindle, to burn as bright as ever, but that was then, and now they were back.

The dingy little femme continued on her path with a dull look in her eyes. She felt, heavy, as if this invisible weight was pressing down upon her, slowing her down. Apart from training the recruits, the occasional scuffle to drive off an all-too-curious loner, and internal affairs, the pyre felt that she wasn't connecting with her daughter, or maybe that she didn't know how. The people that Nyx cared about most all felt so far out of reach to the snowy warrior. In all actuality, things in the forest had been peaceful, for the most part, since the death of the dark monster that had plagued their woods, but for all the battles fought and overcome, Nyx was afraid. She was always afraid, and it ate away at her, caused her to lash out at the people she wanted most to protect and to love. She was afraid of getting hurt, of her next fight, of not being able to protect the ones that she cared about, of not being good enough.

She was ready to just turn around and go home, to go back to bed, and shut out the world, when the sound of shifting foliage to her right drew her attention, pale white head snapping up to see a scruffy looking male coyote staring her down with fangs bared. "That's a fun little tool you've got there, Miss. Would fetch me something useful with the traders I reckon." Came a hoarse voice, perhaps a smoker, or merely rough from age and misuse. "Give it to me and I won't have to hurt you, you be good now, come on." He continued, staring her in the eyes as his hackles rose, a knobby paw reaching behind him to pull a crude knife from his belt. It wasn't something that Nyx would think to add to the armory, but the silvered edge told her that it had been freshly sharpened.

"T..Try it!" The petite lapine growled back, her own hackles raising as she gripped the scythe with both hands in front of her. "I-If you leave now I w-wont pursue, b-but if you choose t-t-to fight, I-I'll kill you." She stammered, her eyes tired and afraid, little ferocity to be shown in them, apart from the determination that showed she believed in her own words.

But he laughed, and he came for her, running wildly at the snowy femme, probably relying on intimidation rather than skill, and she raised her weapon, blocking his attack, and spinning out of the way to dispel the force of it. She was off her game, she knew it as the fight continued, the wood of her scythe earning a few new chips and dents as they danced that oh so familiar waltz. Truth be told, she didn't want to kill him, but the feeling of pain slicing across her hide was enough to make it happen. She swung, blade facing out, and caught him in the neck, the scythe digging half way into it before jamming, and the icy fighter dropped the weapon and left him to drop to the floor with steel cutting off all the vital things for life like blood and air as it all slowly drained out of him.

She looked down to her side where she had been cut, the wound was shallow, but not so superficial that she wouldn't need it to be treated. It hurt, and the femme had grown quite good at masking her pain, but she was tired of it. Dropping to her knees in the dirt, legs splayed out on either side of her, the girl clutched her wound, and bowed her head, blood slowly seeping between her fingers, and silver dew drops falling from her eyes.

Stock: Shan-Shan Yu | Textures: Sirius-SDZ

While Greed was almost positive Nyx had traveled down this path today, as she did every day, something simply didn't feel right today. The winds seemed to push a toxic air towards him that drew him down the path while it would deter others. The Quill's senses were sharp, keen on picking up anything out of place and never would ignore his own gut. Quickly, Greed paced down the path. His ears were pushed forward, alert, and his tail flagged high behind him to match. His let hand rested upon his swords which hit against one another and served as a warning for anyone who might come upon him, or their camp.

For the most part, things were calm, but ever now and then they would have challengers. Always there would be those who threatened their peace, it was the way of a loner. But, as a band they would not easily fall.

The sound of blades swinging and the growls of a scuffle drew his attention. His nose lifted to scent the air where he found a familiar female's scent paired with the thick, heavy scent of blood. HIs hackles rose and a growl tore from his jaws as he pushed forward towards the sound. It had since died down and all that could be heard was the birds chirping and wind rustling through the trees, mismatched against the noxious scent in the air.

Soon, Greed pushed through the last bit of brush that blocked his shortcut to Nyx's location. A growl rippled again through his jaws as the scent of a loner hit him hard. Onryo was drawn, ready to tear down whatever enemy stand in his way. It wasn't until he calmed himself that he noted the opposing warrior, the loser, lay dead before the white Pyre. Nyx... He breathed, his heart pounding loud in his chest. He was destined to live on edge so long as they laid claim to that tower. It was a glorious prize that came with great burden.

Greed came to his sister's side and rest a hand on her shoulder. Amber hues assessed her condition and quickly noted the wound, that bled through Nyx's fingers staining them red. Nyx. He said much calmer, trying to catch her gaze to see if she was alright. We should get you back home. Before we get ambushed. I'm sure wherever he came from, there's more. Greed urged, always taking the most reasonable approach to nearly everything.

The snowy femme was tired, so tired of it all, of feeling alone, of feeling pain, of shouldering the responsibility of a warrior. She had not been bred for this, she was small, and frail, yet she had trained her body to a razors edge, her musculature apparent beneath her blood stained fur and the myriad of scars that interlaced across her body. With a shaking hand, Nyx squeezed the side of her with the slice beneath her straining fingers, unconsciously causing herself more pain, rather than just applying light pressure to stem the bleeding.

Dull glinting amethysts gazed mindlessly upon the face of her deceased opponent, dead yellow eyes staring back at her. They reminded her of someone, made her contemplate her own mortality, as well as the ever looming end to the stories of all of those that she loved, the final chapter that hung on the horizon, casting a shadow that blotted out the sun like the grim reaper himself waiting to take from her everything that she held dear. And there was nothing that she could do.

She heard him approaching, she felt the hand as it came to rest on her shoulder, but it wasn't until he spoke her name a second time that the tiny scarred femme turned her large amethyst eyes up to her earthen brother, tears pooling in them, stinging her eyes until she squeezed them shut and the saline liquid ran down her cheeks. "G..Greed..." The snowy fighter whispered in a broken tone, pitiful and full of anguish. "I-I think I got... c-c-cut..." She said after a moment, her eyes and tone draining of life as she spoke in a melancholic and monotone way, allowing her brother to guide her up from the ground offering little in the way of resistance.

It was almost an afterthought, that the Pyre went to pick her weapon out of the rended flesh of her opponent, hoisting it back with her free hand as she watched the blood run off of it's edge. Justice, indeed.