Thalassa
There appear to be six in the pack, not including the hot head on Asta's fuzzy tail. She knows it's not going to be an easy fight, and it makes her blood sing with excitement, her feline grin sharp in the shadows of the trees as she leaps for her first target.
The wolf is small with a dark brown woodland pelt, its back turned to her as it focuses on the incoming prey. Ears rotated forward, it doesn't notice her until Thal's jaws are clamped around its neck in a vice. A high-pitched whine devolves into a weak whimper as it thrashes in her hold, pulling clumps of fur into the gaps of her teeth when it tries to rip free, but she keeps her teeth imbedded in the canine's pelt, tasting warm blood on her tongue as it breaks skin. It floods her system with sweet relief, fire raging in her veins, singing the song of chaos and destruction that she longs to answer.
Her ears pick up the sounds of the other Ancients and their own targets, the cacophony of noise disguising the approach of her target's packmate when it lunges for her. The black mass slams into her left side, disrupting her balance and forcing her paws to spread through the cold snow of the forest floor. She growls so deep that it seems to darken the shadows around her, and she responds by strengthening her bite so that it forces a yowl from her prey as she drags the small wolf around to face the second, bloodied fangs bared through the fluff of brown fur. In a flash of movement, her paw whips out to slash against the other's muzzle, spraying the white snow in splatters of red.
Tail flicking sharply in the rush of adrenaline, Thal barely has a moment to finish off the first wolf with another crushing bite before the second is clambering to return the favor for the red waterfall gushing from its missing ear to block the amber glint of its left eye.
The wolf is small with a dark brown woodland pelt, its back turned to her as it focuses on the incoming prey. Ears rotated forward, it doesn't notice her until Thal's jaws are clamped around its neck in a vice. A high-pitched whine devolves into a weak whimper as it thrashes in her hold, pulling clumps of fur into the gaps of her teeth when it tries to rip free, but she keeps her teeth imbedded in the canine's pelt, tasting warm blood on her tongue as it breaks skin. It floods her system with sweet relief, fire raging in her veins, singing the song of chaos and destruction that she longs to answer.
Her ears pick up the sounds of the other Ancients and their own targets, the cacophony of noise disguising the approach of her target's packmate when it lunges for her. The black mass slams into her left side, disrupting her balance and forcing her paws to spread through the cold snow of the forest floor. She growls so deep that it seems to darken the shadows around her, and she responds by strengthening her bite so that it forces a yowl from her prey as she drags the small wolf around to face the second, bloodied fangs bared through the fluff of brown fur. In a flash of movement, her paw whips out to slash against the other's muzzle, spraying the white snow in splatters of red.
Tail flicking sharply in the rush of adrenaline, Thal barely has a moment to finish off the first wolf with another crushing bite before the second is clambering to return the favor for the red waterfall gushing from its missing ear to block the amber glint of its left eye.
Bite my tongue, bide my time
Wearing a warning sign
Wearing a warning sign
