01-27-2010, 12:59 AM
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The lyrics are Murder by Death's "The Desert's On Fire". Love this song. And btw, just tell me if you want me to re-write a battle part if it is not to your liking. It's hard not to powerplay and stuff, jeez. 629. And post #200 for you!
you think you've suffered; well, you ain't seen shit yet
the pain won't set in for a long, long time
I've fought off angels with my hands behind my back
I've set all the heavens on fire
Heat seemed to radiate from the snarl that was on the gold wolf's face—so utterly different from anything that Snake had ever adorn his features before. He felt the fury blowing past him like wisps of smoke from a distant fire and he felt his own anger grow cold, shrivel and die within him. Now he felt a definite disturbing feeling, and that of apprehension and some fear. There was an element in Daisuke's blue eyes that was unseeing, uncomprehending. Immediately from that point on Snake knew that he was in danger, and he clicked into survival mode. He shifted subtly, moving one foot behind the other and turning his body sideways—a smaller target, with the more vital places harder to reach for an attacker. His wounded shoulder was the one behind him so he could keep it out of harm's way and so he could fight back with his good arm. All small things that he had grown to know through months of training. But he could really keep them up during a life-or-death duel with someone whom he would have never thought of fighting?
White fangs glinted in the bleary light of the winter moon, and Snake tensed for movement. He was coiled like a spring, ready to rebound with the slightest movement. He stood solid on his feet, but it was a farce—the blond coyote could move like a viper striking at its prey when he had the exact right moment. Now it was just a waiting game, and he knew it would not last long. With the words that Daisuke spat out, the olive-eyed Hydra knew that he was not in his right mind, and that he would have to defend himself. His expression darkened and then became fixated like a battle mask, his bandanna slipped down a little lower over his metallic eyes.
Suddenly the wolf was off like a shot, a golden bolt of lighting from a clear sky. Immediately time seemed to slow for the seasoned warrior, as it always had. This was how he had begun to get the upper hand over Foxhound in their later duels. He watched, his olive eyes following systematically. Every step, every movement, every telltale twitch of the muscles. They were like a road map that Snake could follow straight into the wolf's brain. He could see mostly what he intended to do, and that was strike out with his fists. An interesting gambit—most feral werewolves would have gone for the jugular with their teeth while pinning the opponent down, or try to rip their chest open with their claws. The fistfight version was less expected, but nothing Snake didn't think he could handle.
It was a tactic that he had never seen before, but his warrior's mind was working with it. Snake was dense in places, slow in others. This was the only place in life that he was exemplary, where he shined, where he could feel invincible. Daisuke was within striking distance when he suddenly dropped to his knees, and he felt the assailing arms of the wolf soar over his head. He could hear the air and even feel it brush against the fur on the top of his ears. He knew that he was now open—just as Daisuke was. He capitalized on the opportunity, shifting his hind foot to where he could propel himself from his kneeling position. Once more he shifted his bad shoulder behind him, lifting the other in order to crash into the attacking wolf's stomach. There were no rules in love and war, and Snake understood that. He believed in honor, but once the gauntlet was thrown, hitting someone in the stomach and driving the wind out of them was not below him.
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The lyrics are Murder by Death's "The Desert's On Fire". Love this song. And btw, just tell me if you want me to re-write a battle part if it is not to your liking. It's hard not to powerplay and stuff, jeez. 629. And post #200 for you!
the pain won't set in for a long, long time
I've fought off angels with my hands behind my back
I've set all the heavens on fire
Heat seemed to radiate from the snarl that was on the gold wolf's face—so utterly different from anything that Snake had ever adorn his features before. He felt the fury blowing past him like wisps of smoke from a distant fire and he felt his own anger grow cold, shrivel and die within him. Now he felt a definite disturbing feeling, and that of apprehension and some fear. There was an element in Daisuke's blue eyes that was unseeing, uncomprehending. Immediately from that point on Snake knew that he was in danger, and he clicked into survival mode. He shifted subtly, moving one foot behind the other and turning his body sideways—a smaller target, with the more vital places harder to reach for an attacker. His wounded shoulder was the one behind him so he could keep it out of harm's way and so he could fight back with his good arm. All small things that he had grown to know through months of training. But he could really keep them up during a life-or-death duel with someone whom he would have never thought of fighting?
White fangs glinted in the bleary light of the winter moon, and Snake tensed for movement. He was coiled like a spring, ready to rebound with the slightest movement. He stood solid on his feet, but it was a farce—the blond coyote could move like a viper striking at its prey when he had the exact right moment. Now it was just a waiting game, and he knew it would not last long. With the words that Daisuke spat out, the olive-eyed Hydra knew that he was not in his right mind, and that he would have to defend himself. His expression darkened and then became fixated like a battle mask, his bandanna slipped down a little lower over his metallic eyes.
Suddenly the wolf was off like a shot, a golden bolt of lighting from a clear sky. Immediately time seemed to slow for the seasoned warrior, as it always had. This was how he had begun to get the upper hand over Foxhound in their later duels. He watched, his olive eyes following systematically. Every step, every movement, every telltale twitch of the muscles. They were like a road map that Snake could follow straight into the wolf's brain. He could see mostly what he intended to do, and that was strike out with his fists. An interesting gambit—most feral werewolves would have gone for the jugular with their teeth while pinning the opponent down, or try to rip their chest open with their claws. The fistfight version was less expected, but nothing Snake didn't think he could handle.
It was a tactic that he had never seen before, but his warrior's mind was working with it. Snake was dense in places, slow in others. This was the only place in life that he was exemplary, where he shined, where he could feel invincible. Daisuke was within striking distance when he suddenly dropped to his knees, and he felt the assailing arms of the wolf soar over his head. He could hear the air and even feel it brush against the fur on the top of his ears. He knew that he was now open—just as Daisuke was. He capitalized on the opportunity, shifting his hind foot to where he could propel himself from his kneeling position. Once more he shifted his bad shoulder behind him, lifting the other in order to crash into the attacking wolf's stomach. There were no rules in love and war, and Snake understood that. He believed in honor, but once the gauntlet was thrown, hitting someone in the stomach and driving the wind out of them was not below him.