Colder than my heart
#1
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Thud. Itzal growled, pulling the dagger from the wood that he had just struck. There was to much force in his strikes. His dagger kept getting stuck in the wooden target that he had been practicing on. He looked over the dagger, noting that the blade was still sharp and even from when he sharpened it. He slid the dagger into the sheath at his thigh, then he drew his sultan knives and grinned, backing up and taking his stance in front of the target. It felt good, releasing all of his pent up energy. But Itzal would have preferred that it wasn't wood his blades were sinking into. He wanted it to be flesh. He wanted to have the challenge of facing an actual person. Itzal wanted to spar.

The training grounds were becoming a favorite place of Itzal's. He had been here a few times since his first, when him and Axelle sparred. He smirked, thinking about that. Then his smirk faded some, thinking about Axelle and Malakai. Itzal hadn't talked to Axelle since that time in the cave, and he worried about her. He wasn't sure if she had told Malakai yet, though he doubted that she had. If she had, she would have told him by now. Itzal growled, thinking about her still with Kai, and he took out all of his anger on the wooden target. At first he just hit the target with the knives wrapped around his hands. Then he started to add in punches. He kept on punching the wood until his knuckles split and blood seeped from his hand. He stopped, looking down at the blood before laughing. "How pathetic." He said, shaking his head as he looked around. Itzal put his knives back on his belt before looking over the target, noting the spots of blood on the wood that matched where his fist had hit. He laughed without humor again, before looking around for something else to do.

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#2
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Form :: Optime



Ottilie had yet to visit the training grounds, but she figured it was worth a look. It had been a while since she had gotten any practice in with any of her preferred weapons, and she didn't want to get rusty after all. She had collected her gear-- a sling of steel chain and leather cord with a dark leather pouch, a zipped leather coin purse filled with metal and stone 'bullets', and two black-handled gleaming steel stiletto daggers. The whole lot was attached to her belt, made of thick gold chain looped around her twice with the excess allowed to hang down her left side. It was perhaps a little flashy, but Ottilie did so enjoy jewelry. She had a dark leather belt for when she was actually out to kill, but today was just practice-- what did it matter?



The coyote yawned with her hand over her mouth as she stepped onto the training grounds. She had been napping her caravan only minutes ago, before waking and deciding to hone her skills a little. So she'd collected her things and walked across the village to the grounds to practice on the targets a little. She noted the faintest whiff of fresh blood as she entered the area before her gazed landed on a dark coated male. A wolf? No, no, a coywolf. He had apparently been training on the grounds before her, but now her looked listless. She shot a polite smile in his direction before standing in a fair distance away from the front of a target and unhooking her sling from her belt.



She hooked the finger loop onto her right index finger and loaded a metal bullet into the pouch. She drew her arm back and snapped it forward in an overhead arc, releasing the strap that wasn't looped onto her and sending the bullet flying. There was a powerful crack of metal on wood as the bullet made contact with the centre of the target, and Ottilie made a pleased noise in the back of her throat.



"So! She directed to the male without looking at him as she loaded the pouch again. "You having fun out here?" She released the second bullet and it cracked into the same spot as the first.



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#3
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The blood felt cold against Itzal's skin and it brought him back from his anger induced haze. He looked down at his hand again, the sun light catching the red in the blood, making it shine like a ruby among a black sea. Itzal sat there, captivated for a few seconds before licking the blood from his hand and smiling. The scent had filled the air and Itzal liked it. He took a deep breath, letting the scent wrap around him and make him smile. Itzal would never get tired of the smell and taste of blood. Never.

Itzal glanced up as the scent of a female blew his way. His eyes landed on a female coyote, who was walking towards some targets a little ways away from his own. Itzal cocked his head to the side, wondering if she was new. Itzal hadn't seen this female before, which he found odd. Even if he hadn't conversed with most of the pack, he had at least seen them around or at pack meetings. Itzal looked away, but kept his other senses on the female, his own cautious and untrusting nature taking over, as Eztli wondered about this female. She would make good prey, Eztli said, whispering in Itzal's mind. She might run. Or maybe she would stand and fight. I always love the ones who think they have a chance... He said, followed by that hollow laugh. Itzal growled softly to himself. Itzal heard a smack and looked behind him, back at the coyote. As he watched her, she loaded another rock into some kind of contraption, and sent something flying towards the target with an audible smack. As he watched, she spoke to him. He glanced back at her from the target, wondering what her game was. She certainly seemed to know how to handle herself. Itzal smiled, shrugging. "Guess that depends on what you mean by fun!" He called, turning to look at her and leaning back on the target he had been practicing on. "I'm Itzal. Who might you be?" He called, and then, when another question popped into his head, he had to ask, "And what is that thing you are using?" Itzal asked, raising and eyebrow as he looked again at the target she had been using. His attention was called down to his hand as a drop of blood fell from his knuckles, landing in the dirt and making it a nasty orange color. Itzal looked at the spot where it had landed, then he glanced back up at the female, ignoring the blood once again.

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#4
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Form :: Lupus/Sucui/Optime


Ottilie smiled a little at the male's initial response, loading the sling again. "Mm, I suppose. Does it meet your definition of fun?" She launched the next bullet harder--CRACK!-- but her aim was no less accurate. If her target had been a persons head rather than wood then it would've been a kill shot-- she had put quite substantial holes in her victims' skulls with this weapon before. It appeared fairly innocuous when not in use, but it was wonderfully lethal when wielded properly.




"I am Ottilie Mortimer. I'm new." The coyote shot a smile over at the large black coywolf, pausing in her practice with her sling-holding hand against her hip. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Itzal." She put on her most charming smile and wagged her tail a little. She was aware that she could never get away with her usual luring and killing of unsuspecting fools if she tried it on Anathemans, but old habits die hard. Not to mention Itzal was significantly larger than her usual targets. But who said she couldn't use her charm for more benevolent purposes?



"Hm, this?" Ottilie gestured with the sling in her hand. "It's a sling. It's a fairly rare weapon, but in the right hands it can be veeeeery deadly." She practically purred the last few words and her grin was perhaps a tiny bit more feral, indicating that she knew from personal experience, though it wasn't clear whether her experience related to prey or other canines. She consciously settled her expression into something more approachable again. Her silver gaze flicked to the unusual knives on Itzal's belt.



"Those look fairly unusual. You any good with them?" She nodded at the knives on his belt. They looked like they had less reach than her own stiletto daggers, but that made them no less deadly in the right hands.



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