Sorry this took forever to put up. I had the first half written foreverrr ago, and just couldn't get myself to write the rest. Also, my apologies if it's a little strange. I am still drugged up. :3 Alsoalso, set after this thread.
Trailing the end of thirty miles the land drew away into an expanse of dirty sand that eased into a hillside containing several large stones and cut-rock faces, as well as a myriad of caves. To the east, where the elevation began to descend, the plains and tall grass gave way to forest. Encompassing it all was a gruesome display of reclaimed bones; many canine, others from other animals, and even a few human remains. Though it is apparent that many dated back years and years prior (for they were bleached from long exposure to the elements) some of them were fresh and still held remaining bits of fur and sinew. They hang from trees, were set up in displayed bunches, or sat piked upon sharpened sticks shoved securely into the ground. It painted a picture of the types of animals that dwelled beyond their marked border. It told those that were smart that they should stay away from this place. Mostly, it told Azalea that the coyotes that lived here were powerful.
The adrenaline that had fueled her taunting words was still thick in her veins, dripping heavily from her wounds as she made her way back to the lands of Anathema. The storm of emotion that swirled in her darkened frame confused the girl’s thoughts, and she found that though her anger was justified, that she had enjoyed every moment of her tangle with that brat from Inferni. Clawed fingers wrapped against her shoulder, holding the ripped flesh there in attempts to keep herself together. Black fur shined with a damp inkiness, though veiled much of the crimson color. It would not be a wound to heal on its own, that was for sure. In the end, it would most likely scar. That thought alone really pissed Azalea off.
The Rakeeb penetrated the borders not far from where one of the caves entrances lie, but she could not go any further. The energy exerted from the fight accompanied by her trek home had severely drained her, and Azalea stumbled to take a seat on a rocky outcropping not far from the caves. Fingers gently lifted from her shoulder, where destructive weapons of her opponent had made contact and ripped skin from flesh. The neat up-do of her hair had been ripped from its secure position, strands of inky black falling in her face and obscuring her golden gaze. As the thrill of the fight began to dwindle, the anger from her ruined appearance and the simple fact that Hybrid had actually managed to injure her caused the young leader to seethe. There was no doubt that she would be seeing that bastard again, if only to prove that she was strong enough to defeat him. Already, the girl fantasized in ripping his head from his body, and claiming his life as her own. How beautiful her lovely onyx fur would be then, drenched in the glistening crimson lifeblood of that bastard coyote.
A sharp call issued from her throat alerted that she needed medical attention, before Azalea let her eyes drift closed from the loss of blood.
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