04-13-2010, 05:55 AM
[html]
<style type="text/css">
#semyon {width:420px; margin:auto; padding:10px; line-height:13px; text-align:justify; color:#162727;font-family: tahoma,arial}
#semyon b {font-family:georgia, trebuchet MS, serif; font-weight:bold; color:#cc6600;}
</style>
<style type="text/css">
#semyon {width:420px; margin:auto; padding:10px; line-height:13px; text-align:justify; color:#162727;font-family: tahoma,arial}
#semyon b {font-family:georgia, trebuchet MS, serif; font-weight:bold; color:#cc6600;}
</style>
R thees okay?
He had made a mistake. The warrior had not expected such a furious assault from this male, but now he understood the son's need to remove him from the head rank. With a fierceness that bordered on madness he was attacked, claws and teeth of his opponent a blur. He should have drawn his weapon; he should have known better. Him, out of all of them! He knew the dangers of a fight, he knew in detail the injuries that claws could make, and yet here he was unarmed and under attack. Taken aback it took him a few seconds before he could react with purpose; his first movements were mere instinct. He threw his arms up to defend himself, but though he was strong he could not get himself out of this pinned position. His blood stained the other's pelt and he knew that he had been injured, but was unable to tell where. His thigh was not completely healed after the encounter with the coyote, and now it ached as the barely healed surface cracked open under the weight and intensity of their struggle. Blood seeped slowly from somewhere into the ground beneath him. Semyon would aim for the throat, but in this crazy assault he could not find an opportunity to do so, and the warrior defended himself heavily, taking blows to his pieces of armor every time he could block a bite, a claw reaching for his soft spots. His tactic was successful, and every now and then he found the opportunity to strike at the male's head and shoulders, but that was about it. Claws pierced his skin and traced his form, and his leather armor fell off one arm, then the other, the strings fastening them having been cut at random somewhere in the assault. Semyon twisted, but could not move purposefully until another of their group darted in and his opponent was distracted for a little moment. Acting quickly, Semyon freed his form somewhat and struck the male at random on his underside with both legs and arms, hoping to throw him off completely, or at least hit something vital. His belt slid off of him with his weapons in it as he moved; it, too, had been broken. Again someone darted into the fight and struck Haku, making him stay a moment, and Semyon aimed for his eyes now. A blinded wolf could harm only a few. Claws were his main tool now, and he pointed the fingers of his hand like a spear and clawed the face of this madman as best he could. It was all he could do for now, for he would not be able to escape him.
[/html]
He had made a mistake. The warrior had not expected such a furious assault from this male, but now he understood the son's need to remove him from the head rank. With a fierceness that bordered on madness he was attacked, claws and teeth of his opponent a blur. He should have drawn his weapon; he should have known better. Him, out of all of them! He knew the dangers of a fight, he knew in detail the injuries that claws could make, and yet here he was unarmed and under attack. Taken aback it took him a few seconds before he could react with purpose; his first movements were mere instinct. He threw his arms up to defend himself, but though he was strong he could not get himself out of this pinned position. His blood stained the other's pelt and he knew that he had been injured, but was unable to tell where. His thigh was not completely healed after the encounter with the coyote, and now it ached as the barely healed surface cracked open under the weight and intensity of their struggle. Blood seeped slowly from somewhere into the ground beneath him. Semyon would aim for the throat, but in this crazy assault he could not find an opportunity to do so, and the warrior defended himself heavily, taking blows to his pieces of armor every time he could block a bite, a claw reaching for his soft spots. His tactic was successful, and every now and then he found the opportunity to strike at the male's head and shoulders, but that was about it. Claws pierced his skin and traced his form, and his leather armor fell off one arm, then the other, the strings fastening them having been cut at random somewhere in the assault. Semyon twisted, but could not move purposefully until another of their group darted in and his opponent was distracted for a little moment. Acting quickly, Semyon freed his form somewhat and struck the male at random on his underside with both legs and arms, hoping to throw him off completely, or at least hit something vital. His belt slid off of him with his weapons in it as he moved; it, too, had been broken. Again someone darted into the fight and struck Haku, making him stay a moment, and Semyon aimed for his eyes now. A blinded wolf could harm only a few. Claws were his main tool now, and he pointed the fingers of his hand like a spear and clawed the face of this madman as best he could. It was all he could do for now, for he would not be able to escape him.