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Finally Umbra was alone again, and to avoid further meetings such as the last one, he had decided to head east instead. Who cared that he'd more or less make the long journey completely useless by turning back like this? Right now, he just wanted some peace and quiet; some time where he wasn't accosted left and right by those freaks. Once was alright. Two was fine. Except that the last one had been so blatant that he'd had a hard time staying pleasant and civil.
"Bloody freaks," he muttered to himself. "Thinking they're oh-so-wonderful and Luna's gift to the world." He shook himself, as if shaking off a bug or a twig caught in his fur. They didn't deserve to be here. This land should belong to real wolves.
Actually, no one should be here. Not right now. Umbra wanted to be alone, and damn the one who tried to come close.
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It hurt. That was first and foremost in his mind. Lubomir was reeling. He had no idea how he'd made it alive out of there. And strangely, he wasn't entirely sure why it hurt so much. He could remember the other wolf charging at him and the flash of momentary panic as his thoughts jumbled and then... Lubomir could remember nothing. It scared him. He knew what it meant: it was like Dawn Valley all over again, except his muzzle wasn't covered in blood and his wounds were deeper. The pain kept him focused. In his scramble to escape those infested lands, Lubomir had turned away from Shadowed Sun.
He padded carefully onwards, nursing his side. He almost winced with every step. And then he saw the black wolf. He wasn't a shifter, that much his nose could tell him. Lubomir was intrigued. He'd never met a non-shifter before and although the wounds were troubling him, perhaps somehow he could find solace in rationality and dialogue. 'Stranger, hail to thee.' He let out a small whimper, a newly discovered source of pain. 'I greet thee in peace and hope you do so too.'
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There he was, walking peacefully though the woods, and as if on cue, just after he'd thought that he wanted to be alone, a stranger appeared, causing Umbra to pause and turn in the other guy's direction. He stood quiet for a couple of moments, studying the other. As far as he could tell, it was an ordinary wolf (albeit injured); the scent of blood was too fresh for Umbra to catch any underlying scents, like pack scent or freak scent. But ordinary wolf or not, Umbra wanted to be alone.
"Go away," he grumbled, turning away to continue his trek eastward. He didn't need this. So what if he was slightly rude? They weren't on anyone's territory, so he had a right to voice his opinion. Besides, with how injured that wolf seemed to be, there wouldn't be any problems, would there?
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Lubomir felt like the ground would give beneath his paws. His vision was getting cloudy again, but not with rage. He just just too bad for anything else to make sense. He tried padding forward but he felt his knees give and he met the ground with an 'oomph'. Whimpering commenced and hot waves of pain engulfed him. He was teetering between losing consciousness and trying to overcome the pain. Proud as he was, Lubomir knew when to give in. He raised his head and called out, 'A helping paw, good sir, I beseech you. I have done you no harm, please help a fellow wolf in need.'
He lowered his head again and he caught the scent of the earth. He didn't think he would die. Perhaps if the wolf had had another few minutes with him he'd be rotting at their borders, but it had been a narrow escape. Of course, he didn't know the severity of his wounds, so he might bleed to death here, away from his pack and anyone who might help him. He let out a low whimper and hoped the stranger would at least go find someone.
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Umbra sighed and paused. He wanted to go on, but the fetters of society and his upbringing kept him from taking another step. He wanted to be alone, but it wouldn't be fair to just walk away when he'd been asked for help. Turning around, he faced the now fallen wolf, and looked at him for a few moments before heading back.
"You sure speak weird," he commented gruffly, not being the kind to that easily make a 180-turn. "What happened to you." It wasn't really a question, since the nature of the gray's injuries suggested another wolf had inflicted them. And what was Umbra supposed to do? Lick him clean?
"D'you live nearby?" If he had pack in the neighborhood (he hoped it wouldn't be with that female he'd met earlier) Umbra could... go notify them, at least. Maybe. Oh, alright, fine. He could.
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He had no real expectations of anyone outside Shadowed Sun helping him. Shifting might lead to further blood loss and the energy just seemed to seep out of his body and into the cold ground. He felt that perhaps in a way he was going to obtrude himself on the non-shifter's time and energy. Coming from a family where he'd been the weakling, he'd learned to rely on his sister and her alone. To be faced now with the possibility of asking a stranger for help... but truly, what other options were there?
Lubomir was startled. So there he was, lying wounded, mud and dirt mixed in with his wounds and all the wolf could say to him was that he spoke in a strange fashion? He felt a flicker of annoyance, but quickly quenched it, lest the other move away from him. 'I was in a fight. I lost. I am hurt and I fear I am far from my pack lands. To be quite honest, I do not know where I am. And I have not the strength to shift.' He winced as pain slashed through him again and looked at the other with pleading eyes. Lubomir himself wasn't sure what he was pleading for. Company perhaps. After all, there was not much that could be done now.
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I just saw Gabriel finished up your fight thread ^.^ And I hate not knowing how far in terms of time it is to various places.
*looks things up* Hmm... *calculates* ....ok, according to wolf speed and such, it'd take a wolf at the most two days to traverse the entire distance between the mountains and Twilight Vale... Am I the only one who thinks that's odd?
Also, WotD is from yesterday cos that's when I started the post XD *won't count it, but will still use it*
Shift. Great, just great. In an instant, Umbra went from grudging helpfulness to cold indifference. He had been hoping that this would be a normal wolf; it certainly looked like it. But it seemed that once more that was just a Potemkin village, and behind the front was that same kind of freak that he'd been trying so hard to avoid. It was tempting, when the stranger asked, to reply something inane like, "You're in the woods," but he held himself back.
"See it from the bright side," he said instead, without sounding the least 'bright' about it. "You survived." It wasn't necessarily a good thing on Umbra's part, but he was sure this one would have a differing opinion.
He took a closer look at the worst wound he could see, located somewhere in the gray area between throat and chest from what he could see. It didn't look that bad, other than being covered in mud and mostly dried blood. It wasn't bleeding horribly much. All in all, Umbra concluded, it seemed as though the freak would survive on its own. Unfortunately.
"At least so far," he added, maybe a tiny bit hopefully. Who knew? Maybe some other predator -- though he hadn't noticed any signs of larger predators right here -- would find the freak and consider him dinner? One less shifter was a good thing, wasn't it? "There should be a brook about ten minutes that way," he said then, nodding his head the way he'd come, "unless you prefer to just lie here and pretend that you're dying."
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Lubomir had imagined that his first time meeting with a non-shifting wolf would go better. This one seemed about as friendly as a hive of wasps. He knew that certainly he was wounded, hurt and bleeding but there was no need for sarcasm. It irked Lubomir. After all, he'd said nothing wrong, he'd done nothing to offend the black wolf, so what exactly was his problem? 'Yes, I survived but I'm not exactly fit to run circles around you, am I?' He winced again, but decided it was no use lying on the ground.
He pushed himself upwards and was startled to realise the wolf had been closer than he'd initially thought. Well... he also seemed a bit better built than Lubomir, something slightly off-putting, especially in his current state. Well, no matter he would use diplomacy to... what? Pretend to be dying? Was that what it looked it? Well... 'I'm sorry, I don't see how someone as young as you is qualified to tell me that I'm pretending to die. You are a bit rude to someone who is injured, don't you think?' Lubomir had been brought up to respect his elders. And while he liked to think of himself as young, it was certainly rather rude for this young one to speak to him like that and imply that he could just die for all he cared. 'What's your name, anyway?' Gone was the polite formality. Lubomir's heart was racing again, his pride rather wounded after such an ignominious defeat.
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Umbra: WTF! Why should I tell you my name, freak? ¬_¬
*cough* Anyway, more Umbra rudeness. Feel free to attack if you like 
The other male got to his paws, and Umbra took half a step back, not wanting to be quite that close to someone of that kind. And of course, the freak took it on himself to 'lecture' Umbra on proper behavior. Oh, Umbra knew how to behave. He just didn't see the reason to do so with a non-wolf who acted like he was half-dead and who kept him from being on his own.
"It got you up, didn't it?" he pointed out, not being one to ruminate on his thoughts before speaking them. "And yes, you rather were acting like you were dying, with all your, 'Help me, I'm lost and I have no strength left because I'm hurt.'" Umbra wasn't big on sarcasm, but sometimes the situation called for it. Like when he tried to help a wolf (despite not wanting to) and then realized it wasn't a wolf at all.
"Seeing as you feel better now, I'm going to assume you'll get to the stream on your own. There's a pack of your kind just southwest of here; I'm sure they could inform you of where you are." And with that, he turned and started walking away. Yes, he was well aware of the fact that the shifter had asked his name, but why should he tell him?
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OOC: Don't mind if I do!
Lubomir growled low, in the back of his throat. He'd just had a narrow brush with death, his side was bleeding and all of a sudden this wolf, this scrawny rude puppy (in his mind, the word rang with contempt) was teasing him. Normally, Lubomir would have walked away, muttering to himself about how education was not what it used to be, but this was different. He'd been mauled by that shifter and now insulted so blatantly by a pup. The anger rose in his again and his rational side cowered once more. His gaze darkened and his breath came in quick, rapid breaths. He let out the growl again. Here was a change to vent the frustration of being defeated and in such a humiliating manner (and perhaps prove to himself he was not a coward?) and Lubomir was not about to forgo it.
Shifting was a complete process for the grey wolf. He enjoyed the four-legged state and the more childish things he could do, but his ability to write in his Optime form would sometimes push him to shift. Very rarely had he half-shifted, considering his weakness as a wolf even more apparent in halfling form. But now, now this was different. The pain became a dull white flash, easily ignored by the animal in him. In this half-way form, he growled louder and called after the black insolent one, 'My kind? My kind, huh? You are not a wolf, then. You are an insolent creature and I have no intention of being polite any longer.' With that, he crouched and pounced Umbra, his body tense, his wound raw and open once more. Lubomir the thinker withdrew, letting this primeval side of him take care of things. The black one had not answered to polite discussion, perhaps he would answer to mindless violence.
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Bwahaha ^.^ *bullies Umbra*
He'd barely heard the freak speak behind him and decided to ignore him, when instinct made him turn. It was too late, and the other, now much larger than him, hit his side, knocking him down. Yelping, more of surprise than out of pain, he scrambled to get out from below the shifter. Of course, he was not below dirty tricks, and took advantage of the fact that the un-wolf was already injured by shoving a hind paw into the injured shoulder-neck to push away.
"You fucker," he growled as he finally -- in his opinion it had taken an eternity -- got away enough to throw his own lesser weight on the other. It's just like your kind; you have no sense of honor and ethics. Attacking from behind, of all things.
Deciding to use his mouth to other things than talking, he snapped at Lubomir, still growling. He was fairly inexperienced when it came to fighting, only having squabbled with the other pups in his parental pack, and while mock fights sometimes got serious and his sister was one hell of a fighter, they were never as serious as this.
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Lubomir had long decided to stand back and let rage take over. It wouldn't do to try and overwhelm it. It was strange, how detached he felt from his own body. He felt like he was floating, watching his half-shifted body slam the black wolf's. He decided to turn away, contemplate greater things and leave the other to deal with this. Meanwhile, the halfling had let out a howl on pain. This was going to be dirty fighting, then. 'You pathetic son of a bitch.' The voice sounded deeper now, filled with blood lust and a hunger to cause pain. His paws skidded slightly on the earth and he felt himself losing balance for a moment. But he regained his concentration quickly and allowed himself light sarcasm. 'What do you know about honour and ethics, pup? Cry me a river, why don't you.'
The snap was pathetic. The animal allowed himself a sneer. This was going to be light squabbling compared to the other one. His fur bristled and his teeth showed clearly every intention to sink themselves into Umbra. He charged forward, almost past the black wolf, turning at the last minute and going for the haunches. A trick he'd seen One-Eye use. There would be blood here for sure.
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Powerplaying regarding fighting is okayed out-of-thread from this point onward =)
Trying to ignore the freak's words, Umbra still found his ire rising at the condescending sneer. But he didn't have much time to say anything before the shifter charged. Blinking, he barely had time to attempt a dodge, but it wasn't necessary, since the other missed. Blinking again, Umbra instinctively started to turn. Had the freak really missed, or was he intending to flee the scene? Then pain shot through his leg as strong jaws locked onto him. Not being the lachrymose type, Umbra didn't cry out, but he did growl, trying to twist enough to get at the freak. No luck.
He could feel blood trickling down his leg, and he twitched a little in a reflexive move to get away from the pain. But as he realized that trying to tear himself away would only hurt him more, he instead made an extra effort to bend himself backwards. With some luck, he managed to just reach the other's tail, and he closed his jaws on to the root of the tail. He imagined that if he bit hard enough, the freak would let him go.
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The stupid little puppy was playing dirtier than he'd imagined. He did have to admit, however, that he was no wimp. He had expected a tremulous whimper or a loud yowl of pain. Although compared to Gabriel he was differently built, this black non-shifter was not a weakling; not something Lubomir would admit to anyone, though. And he wasn't stupid enough to try and flee. Hot blood rushed into his mouth and it made him swoon. But then more pain. The little bastard had his tail. Lubomir jumped back, growling fiercely. He could feel the shoulder wound throbbing and more pain in his tail, but this, this fighting, adrenaline-filled jumble of noise, scent and taste was too much to give up.
There was no strategy here. Lubomir had no time to plan attacks. Why should he? Brutal fighting like this needed no tactics. Just endurance. And in the back of his mind, he knew that this surge was only a rush of adrenaline, ephemeral, he didn't have the strength or stamina to resist a drawn-out fight. But he could sure make the most of this. He charged again, head low, aiming for the side. Feeling the blow connect, he raised his paw and swiped at the black wolf's face. A reckless attack, leaving his chest wide open, but then again, this side of Lubomir had very little regard for his own body.
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I don't know how much longer this thread should be ^^;
Also, short post ._. I blame having no time.
This was not working. No sooner had the freak let go of his leg -- Umbra tried to put weight on it, and quickly decided not to -- before he charged Umbra, knocking the wind out of him and clawed at his face. Umbra shied back the best he could, but a cut close to his left eye frightened him more than the rest of the damage done.
He needed to get away. Fast. Before this one blinded him. In a desperate effort, born more out of panic than fighting spirit, he clawed at the gray's chest -- it was the part that was closest to him, after all. And then he turned tail and made a run for it. An awkward, three-legged run, but a run nonetheless.
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OOC: Dunworry about size. And if we stick to what we discussed in AIM, it should be fine =)
This was positively elating. He felt like a potentate, with the power of life and death over this pathetic weakling. In his mind, Lubomir shied away from the sheer happiness his other self was feeling. It was positively horrifying. He'd never thought that such a mindless beast could be hiding inside him, that such glee could be obtained from harming another. To Lubomir, to rationality, the entire fight was a senseless cry for death. To the beast, it was pure pleasure. Which the little pup was about to destroy by running away. He grinned like the feral beast he was and tried to attack when the black wolf clawed his chest.
The howl he let out was piercing and high. It was born of fury, not pain, though the hot rush of blood was now streaming down his chest. He was pumped full of frustration at not being able to claw the insolent pup to pieces and he acted swiftly when he saw his plaything running away. Howling again, he rushed, his half-shifted form giving him momentum and speed. Soon, he was close enough to pounce, which he did, pinning Umbra to the ground. His eyes were unfocused and wild, his mouth dripping saliva. 'Now, you little pup, you are mine.' Raising his paw to strike, he grinned like a madman about to enjoy more horrendous fun.
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Ahahahahha. Umbra hates me now XDDDD
The freak had to be crazy! There was no other explanation. The howl chilled Umbra to the core, and he didn't care anymore how pathetic he looked. He just needed to get away. Unfortunately, the other one seemed to be of another opinion, and just as Umbra had increased his speed as much as he could, he was tackled to the ground and held there. He found himself staring up at a maniac ready to strike.
His eyes rolled in their sockets as instincts kicked in, and his lips pulled back in a helpless don't-hurt-me mien. While all wolves had been affected to some degree by the virus, Umbra was still a normal wolf, and was closer to his animal instincts than some of the human-emulating shifters. And his instincts right now told him that in order to survive, he needed to appease his attacker. He was already presenting his belly, there was little more he could do about that. But...
It was no conscious choice, of course; Umbra was more or less completely ruled by instincts right now. And his instincts made him relax his bladder control.
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OOC: Let us spell the many ways in which I suck. Oh, you post and then it's over? Or am I missing it?
Lubomir had not expected this sudden withdrawal of the beast. All of a sudden there he was, blinking in the bright sunshine, staring down at Umbra, his eyes wide a bit. The poor wolf seemed so scared and alone and the grey one knew it was his fault. He'd let the beast get too good a grip on him and now, now he'd made this non-shifter hurt. In a scramble to get off him, he managed to scratch the underside of the wolf's thigh and Lubomir was soon standing a way back, panting, his eyes large and frightened, his body quivering.
The monster, however, in Lubomir's head, would not stop laughing. That was why he'd lost the grip on reality, on the body, because he was roaring with laughter. This black thing was surely a wuss and he had beaten it. There he was, so pathetic and weak, so lost and small, lacking the willpower to fight him, to fight for his life. And Lubomir, his rational self, the whining pathetic wolf that he was was actually feeling sorry about the racist bastard? That was it? His tail held between his legs like that, whimpering? But seeing the racist lying there in his own urine, he laughed so hard for a moment he gained control of Lubomir. 'Run away, pup. Run away, because if I ever see you again, you won't get out of this so easily.' He leaned towards Umbra, teeth bared. 'Run, puppy, run.'
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You don't suck =) And sure, I'd say this thread is done now
Thank the goddess that he stepped away. Umbra lay still for a few rapid heartbeats. Then, just as the shifter opened his mouth to tell Umbra to get lost, Umbra was already scrambling to roll over onto all fours, get up, and run away as fast as he could. Who cared about dignity when his life was on the line? Who cared if the freak was laughing at him?
He didn't slow down until even his adrenaline-born burst of strength had gone, and he fell down in a bush, gasping for breath. He felt like crying, or possibly dying. Now that he wasn't running blind, the stench of his own piss reached his nose, and he recalled with a shudder what he'd done. Never. Never again. As the moon was his witness, he'd never let anyone do that to him again. He'd kill anyone who tried.
But he couldn't fight anyone the way he was now. First of all, he needed to wash himself off, and secondly he needed to find allies. What he wouldn't give to find another wolf who turned out to really be a wolf.
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