[m] I watch you like I'm gonna tear you limb from limb

Boreas Final Battle: Group 4

POSTED: Sat Jan 28, 2017 1:20 am

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.

Word Count → 1038 :: Hey guys! Just remember that this thread is supposed to be fast paced, so you have 48 hours to reply before you will be skipped!

Till's body was still sore, but he was a man who knew the call of war. He knew his duty as a Warden was to protect Salsola and it's peace with his very life. Till was not daft nor was he a man who knew what true fear felt like. He had been raised this way, to smile and laugh in the face of danger, to always be prepared for the worst - to die for his pack with a smile on his maw. Till did his duty well and even after the raid under the full moon, the Warden had been ready to be back in the fray the next day, even if his body had told him to rest.

Even now there was still a whistle when he breathed, the stinging pain in his side pulsing at every movement he took. The wound itself was scabbed over and healing rather nicely since Calla had given him special treatment after the Full Moon Raid, but it still hurt and she had told him that ribs were a fragile thing, and that since he had that obnoxious whistle in his chest that one of them must have been bruised and/or broken. She also told him that there was little way they could fix it and that he just needed to make sure he took deep breaths, even when it hurt. She also told him to apply ice to the wound when the pain got too bad, and she also provided him with painkiller herbs that not only had Till feeling pleasantly high but also as if he could take on the entire world. He probably was over-medicating but he was a sucker for pain and he did not like it. At least being high had him feeling up to the job when he had been asked to do one of the most dangerous things he had been asked in quite awhile.

His mind might have been buzzing about when he had been asked to lure out the Boreas wolves, but his objective was clear as day, and he strove to show both Salvia and Lokr that they could depend on him, that he was able to defend their home, that he was worth every grain of salt that they might have gotten from him, especially when he was younger. The Warden was armed with his bow and quiver, as always and he wore his thick winter cloak this time, determined to have the extra padding should he be assaulted with arrows once more. This also helped him cover his wrapping around his chest as he still had to sew up his other clothing that was not only blood stained but it also had the huge hole in the side where the arrow had pierced his body. He also wore alternative clothing that he normally did not wear because of this reason too. Instead of his green vest he wore a black one, and with this he wore a scarf that was not his normal grape color - rather he wore one of blood red. This was a statement that was meant to make him easy to be seen on the white backdrop - but it also showed that he had murderous intent written in his clothing - It too was written in his cosmic eyes.

Till rode along on Maschine, the old stallion still Till's first choice in steeds because of his speed and not for his inexperience in battle. This was valuable training for Maschine, for it made the beast less sensitive, and it kept him from becoming fat and lazy. Till did not blame the stallion for throwing him a week ago, and had told the stallion that he needed to be prepared this time, for Till knew that he would not be able to move as fast as he used to because of his rib. The pain was too great and short, shallow breaths were not going to cut it in combat. In all reality, it was a mistake to send him into battle, but as far as Till had been concerned, Till had one of the fastest horses that Salsola had to offer. This was one of the things that the male guessed at the very least, for Salsola had many large boned horses, and Maschine was not that. He was a cross with a mustang and had always been very sure-footed even in his older age.

Salvia and Lokr had shown the Mapmaker on a map where the camp of the Boreas wolves were and the man locked this in his head, no matter how fuzzy things got in there, he knew that his eyes would not fail him. Mapping and tracking was something that had been practically bred into him, and he relied on these skills in his daily life, keeping him sharp and able-minded. Till was given his orders and he urged his stallion forward towards the camp, not waiting for the others to join him as he let his stallion run straight towards the camp. If he was lucky they were unsuspecting and would take some time to gather their forces.

The Archer drew back on his bow with an arrow prompted towards whatever wolves he saw first, and he was quick to let the arrow fly before sending up a coyote yowl to grab the attention of the Boreas wolves. He wanted everyone's attention, and he circled his stallion around in a zig-zag pattern to alert them and also avoid becoming minced meat. The last thing he wanted was to be shot, or his horse to be injured. Maschine was much more valuable than the scum that they fought against now. Never had Till thought that another beast was actual scum, for he was no saint, but these wolves were scum, for they attacked without provocation, and they murdered for unjust reasons. Till was not innocent - far from it really - but Till also did not think that he was holy. He knew he was a sinner.

Till was far from scared, and just as he had in the Full moon raid, the Bastard wore a smile on his maw that was unsettling at best.

'Cause we were always alone, We were born in the hunter's season
All I really ever wanted was for you to die in the arms of someone
Avvie by Nandolicious@FA, signature image by Motth@FA

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Luperci Witch & Cazador

POSTED: Mon Jan 30, 2017 5:01 am

(488) Izual is in Secui form.

It had been the first time he could ride into battle for a cause that he agreed upon. After being drawn away from the borders and attacked in the woods, Izual wanted to kill these damn Wolves almost as much as everyone else had, maybe even more. And he would enjoy it, too. No one messed with his pack mates, and especially not in the way that they had. He taunted his prey in the woods, not the other way around. Maybe it was more of a bruise on his ego that drove him into hunter mode, but his fellow Infernians didn’t seem to mind his bloodlust for the Boreas Wolves.

In his hulking Secui form, he pounded the ground after the pale-faced Salsolan with the flowing silver hair and the oddly painted horse. Maschine was something Izual could see himself riding if he ever chose to go that way. For now, though, he was completely content with being self-reliant. His own paws could carry him to the edges of the world and back and he didn’t have to worry about being thrown off or sending the wrong message to his mount. He was his mount.

His claws made little etches in the snow as he followed Till at a high pace with the others flanking him or traveling behind him. They neared the camp quickly, and made quick work to surround their unsuspecting guests. Till rode ahead and began to circle the camp, while Izual watched from the cover of the trees, waiting for the right moment to strike. He watched each and every Boreas rise slowly in their spots, a look of either anger or fear in their eyes. Yes they should fear them. Especially him. Izual set his eyes on one male in particular. Gray coat, light eyes, scrawny frame. He should be simple enough to rip limb from limb. Izual’s eyes shifted to his next target, a light brown coated male with lemon-tinged eyes. He particularly liked the lighter coats on others because it was easier to see the blood that painted their bodies afterwards. The lemon-eyed male would be no different. Finally, Izual eyed the darker brown male wearing a tank top. He seemed to be the most civilized out of all of them, but even then, he could’ve been wrong. All the males that sat around the campfire had light eyes. Would you look at that? Their pupils will lay open and staring as their dead gazes stared into the heavens. Izual couldn’t wait. He had never tried eyeball, but figured the occasion special enough for a trial. He wasn’t known as a soul-eater, but maybe he would adopt that title today.

As Till and his skull-faced steed circled, he stepped out of the brush, wearing a sinister snarl upon his long muzzle. He eyed the enemies heartily, each giving them a long, disturbing glare.

This was going to be such fun.

I looked through your frame
Izual Massacre
and watched death go by
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