03-15-2009, 08:28 AM
Thanks =) I think I'm about where I want to be now. As for the fighting, Brennt is well over two hundred pounds now that he is half-shifted, and has four legs and a much lower center of gravity, so I think he should be able to contend with Jazper in this form until such time as Jazper's claws/hands come into play (hopefully he can be disarmed before he gets control of the situation again?)
The impact came on suddenly, with such force as to send him flying from all four feet that had been planted on the ground. The creature, black as the shadows the pup had fought, had come to rescue her. A weapon of human making, something his father might have used, gleamed faintly in the morning glow, and Brennt fixed his dim yellow eyes on the creature--so much larger than himself--who stood tall, broad, and menacing in the morning light, propped up on two legs, as preferred by Brennt's own family. Slow hatred, impeded by the limitations of his own emotional range, twisted his lips.
His yellow eyes widened, and a very noticeable change took hold of the gray wolf. His appearance became that of something watchful, careful, predatory, the antithesis of the dim, slow, stupid wolf that usually resided within his skull. Sickening cracks rang out through the morning air as the wolf's bones re-aligned, as muscles shifted out of the way to avoid tearing, and began to grow. The change was rarely a conscious action of Brennt's. If ever it was, it was a copy-cat action done in a fit of jealousy or competitive rage. Today, it was an instinctual override of the conscious mind, the true Brennt, the one that did not concern itself with social faces and social lies, social words rarely meant to do anything but confuse and mislead him. His size increased exponentially, dozens of pounds in increased mass, coming from no where, piling on around his shoulders, ribs, and hips, muscle and fat, bone growth and fur. His fangs grew longer.
Half-shifted, a long, low beast, long of fang and swift of foot, covered the distance between itself and the larger, black male in only a heart-beat. Wild eyes fixed the black giant with murderous regard, and the monster leaped at its enemy, a flying tackle with jaws open, aiming for the arm with the knife. The wounds from its earlier battle had since healed, and it flew into the battle fresh and fierce. The child belonged to it, and no enemy, regardless of size, would take its meal without a fight.
The impact came on suddenly, with such force as to send him flying from all four feet that had been planted on the ground. The creature, black as the shadows the pup had fought, had come to rescue her. A weapon of human making, something his father might have used, gleamed faintly in the morning glow, and Brennt fixed his dim yellow eyes on the creature--so much larger than himself--who stood tall, broad, and menacing in the morning light, propped up on two legs, as preferred by Brennt's own family. Slow hatred, impeded by the limitations of his own emotional range, twisted his lips.
His yellow eyes widened, and a very noticeable change took hold of the gray wolf. His appearance became that of something watchful, careful, predatory, the antithesis of the dim, slow, stupid wolf that usually resided within his skull. Sickening cracks rang out through the morning air as the wolf's bones re-aligned, as muscles shifted out of the way to avoid tearing, and began to grow. The change was rarely a conscious action of Brennt's. If ever it was, it was a copy-cat action done in a fit of jealousy or competitive rage. Today, it was an instinctual override of the conscious mind, the true Brennt, the one that did not concern itself with social faces and social lies, social words rarely meant to do anything but confuse and mislead him. His size increased exponentially, dozens of pounds in increased mass, coming from no where, piling on around his shoulders, ribs, and hips, muscle and fat, bone growth and fur. His fangs grew longer.
Half-shifted, a long, low beast, long of fang and swift of foot, covered the distance between itself and the larger, black male in only a heart-beat. Wild eyes fixed the black giant with murderous regard, and the monster leaped at its enemy, a flying tackle with jaws open, aiming for the arm with the knife. The wounds from its earlier battle had since healed, and it flew into the battle fresh and fierce. The child belonged to it, and no enemy, regardless of size, would take its meal without a fight.