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KRUX he/him
Death Valley
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#1

Fire truly was a fickle element. Such a beautiful aura, stunning to look at and absolutely entrancing if you dare look too long. Its warmth could be thrown astonishing distances, gently embracing you until you got too close. Like a siren in its demeanor, it was enticing until it turned into your absolute worst nightmare.

Sapphire and jade eyes glistened, the tri-colored male watching the flames in awe as they licked the Valley. It destroyed everything it touched, leaving nothing but charred foliage in its wake. So destructive – such raw beauty.

A shiver gripped the wolf’s spine, raising the hair on the back of his neck. Something about it simply aroused the Dire, his blood pumping hot and fast in his veins. A wide grin was smeared across his face revealing a set of crooked and yellowed teeth. A wonderful show, a stunning event.

Yes, Oukoku-kai was his home. He would not deny that. He was loyal to the Gods, and in fact dreamed of one day joining them. Krux was a follower of the Valley, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t love watching it go up in flames.

That was not specific to Death Valley, however. He would honestly get joy out of seeing any one place being set aflame. Watching things burn gave the man a feeling of joy, a rush of adrenaline, a purpose to live.

Fire was grand. Fire was pure.

It was getting closer, the heat making his paws sweat and forcing drool to spill out over lips pulled back tightly over those awful teeth. Warm turned to hot, and ribbons of red and orange threatened to lap at his toes and chest.

For a brief moment he considered sacrificing himself to the flames, to let the fire engulf him and take him with it. Wouldn’t that be a beautiful way to go? To become one with the most destructive element on earth?

His grin widened – if it was even possible at this point – and he forced himself to step backward, distancing himself slightly from the wall of burning plasma that reached toward him. Licking his maw, he calculated his next move carefully.

Leaning back on his haunches quickly, he propelled himself forward and leapt over the wall of fire, feeling it rake at his body as he soared, breaking through the barrier and coming out on the other side with singed fur smoking lightly.

As much as he wanted to stick around and watch the show, he knew he had too much left to accomplish. Too much left to live for.

It wasn’t time for him to go out just yet.
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Claret (RP) he/him
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#2

(ooc: i've read the dude's profile and I'm offering good ol' Claret up as someone to throw under the bus lol)

The fire was nothing compared to Claret's anger.

Who had done this? Why? He thought he could develop here. Could grow. Now, it was being taken down around his ears and nobody seemed to be doing anything about it. Wretched, useless cowards, the lot of them. The young timber wolf bounded through the blazing woods, trying hard to ignore the claws of smoke working its way down his throat. He had to leave. This land was inhabitable now. Hopefully, his packmates would be re-grouping somewhere. If they weren't all burned to a crisp. Of course. He hoped to see a familiar face - even if the only wolf he knew was Majority, the one who had accepted him - and it was not long before he saw a flicker of yellow and brown through the flames. A grinning face. An enemy, perhaps? The smoke made it hard to tell who was who.

"Hello?" Claret called. "Are you a follower of the Rosas?" 

As if in response, the stranger leapt through the flames and Claret was compelled to follow. Despite his arrogance, he was still a youngster and felt safer with another. His fear of being alone and vulnerable in a burning landscape far outmatched his fear of fire itself. He quickly jumped after Krux, wincing with pain when a lick of fire seared his shoulder. Claret landed awkwardly, a yelp escaping him as his fur was singed away and a fierce burn appeared where the fire had got him. It served him right. Unlike Krux, he had not jumped high enough in his panic. He limped after the  Fringe dire in desperation. "Wait up!" he cried. "Are you meeting up with the others? Perhaps it would be better if we headed towards the edge of the maze?" 

Poor, naive Claret. He was too bound by the definition of "pack" and did not realise that, at that moment, it was literally every wolf for themselves. Still, he tried to keep up with Krux. "I'm Claret, by the way. Just joined before everything went to shit," the timber shrugged miserably, wincing as his shoulder pained him. "My last pack was actually raided by Fringe dires. Now I have to depend on one. Just my luck, huh?"

Nothing like a little bit of passive aggression to make friends too.




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Ruen She/Her
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#3

The white wolf soars through the haze of fire and ash, soot streaking her pelt. At the start, she'd followed the beacon of a torch, but had since lost it in the billowing blaze. Now the flames engulf the land before her, turning it bright and red as blood. It glistens in her eyes, wide and wild, and licks at her fur as easily as it licks the branches over head. How coy, how deceptive, she thinks. Its warm embrace might fool the panicked masses, but not her. No, the fire is their ally, as unpredictable as it may be. It makes the game more challenging, more fun. Ruen dons a devilish grin, gleeful and giddy. If she'd have known pack life to be so exhilarating, she'd have joined the fray much sooner. Here, they encouraged destruction, chaos, violence. She'll thrive, wild and alive as the writhing forest before her.

Ruen knows her orders. The Saborans are to snuff the life from this dying culture. To kill or to capture is subjective. Their main objective is to overcome. The means could afford to be a bit muddled- It's of little consequence to the invaders. 

Her paws carry her swiftly on until a barrier of fire looms ahead, hot and ravenous for the pack it hunts. Likewise, she thinks. Her paws slow to a trot before she wheels to the left of the wall. Red eyes squint through the blaze as a long ear detects a voice. Something about roses over the roar of the fire? She can't afford to miss anyone trying to save their own souls, so she hangs back to watch and listen off to the side of a splintered log, embers glowing at her feet. And simple as a prayer, some desperate fool hurls himself over the dancing wall of flames. Well hallelujah, the lord provides- And in double, call her blessed. A second attempts the hurdle, but doesn't quite make the leap unscathed. He yelps, and as the scent of singed fur makes its way through the smoke and ash, Ruen licks her lips. The two wolves are larger than she, but Ruen assumes she has more wits about her- Afterall, this isn't her home. These aren't her kin. What reason has she to be afraid? The fire- They had summoned it as a partner in the hunt. She intends to use it as such.

If she's unnoticed by the log, the pair will be given a moment to pass her by and chat as they wish while she assesses the scene. The first to clear the wall looked larger, more sound. The other, less so, if his attempts at camaraderie are any indication of a worried mind. And of course, there's a limp to consider. Yes, he would be the easier of the two. She just needed to separate them (too bad her pride hadn't opted for the buddy system before leaping into the war). Perhaps, if the first might be convinced to chase her, she could lose him in the smoke and come back to fight the fight she's more likely to win. Yes, there's a plausible idea if a scrap turns sour... Now, how to get this party started? Although she's terribly tempted to announce herself with grand flare and show, a smart little quip or the cackle of a laugh- Stealth would serve her better here where she might be paired against two. She'll just have to gloat over their homeland's demise later, a la Disney villain style. 

Whether she had the time to debate or not, Ruen rushes from the smoke in a flash of white and gray. She aims to run her shoulder into the younger male, right where his neck meets the front of his own shoulder, with hopefully enough strength to send him to the dirt. A snarl rips through her throat. This was the only feasible way, she thinks, to keep her teeth free should the first wolf decide to aid his comrade- Or if her target attempts to counter. Should she fail, she'd simply have to do more than show her dazzling smile in a snarl.


[Image: e4WOPyk.png] LIFE (); Ain't it a cakewalk, baby? Thrown in the

World, we dance and dance, and oh, so few earn a prize.

So in the whirling snarls of snapping teeth, I grab

What I wish is mine. And so it becomes.

Power, Illusions, Possessions~ They belong to me.

So grabba hold a ya mind, sinner, 

Lest you lose it.
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KRUX he/him
Death Valley
Death Valley
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#4

Smoke fled from singed fur in ribbons as he scanned his immediate surroundings. The adrenaline coursing through his veins caused the male to be on edge – he had to wonder how the fire started. “Naturally” seemed unlikely; there was no storm for lightning to strike, setting the dry grass aflame. Perhaps this was the beginning of something much larger.

Perhaps he had a real reason to be on edge.

Though he wouldn’t get a chance to peruse that train of thought any longer as a voice rang out behind him at once. “Wait up!” The voice called. Krux whirled his head around to find he had a follower, emerging not entirely unscathed from the wall of fire that attempted to separate them.

“Are you meeting up with the others? Perhaps it would be better if we headed toward the edge of the maze?”

Krux turned away from the red boy and pressed onward, ignoring his words. This boy was clearly of no threat, and even if he was, he was smaller than Krux, and seemingly dense. He didn’t have time to make plans with this kid, and he sure as shit didn’t have time to ‘wait up’.

“I’m Claret, by the way. Just joined before everything went to shit. My last pack was actually raided by Fringe Dires. Now I have to depend on one. Just my luck, huh?” The boy babbled and Krux gritted his teeth together. Hilarious.

It was clear why the flames didn’t swallow this boy up entirely – he was of no good use to the Gods.

As Krux continued, ignoring the red wolf, his ocean eyes repeatedly examined the landscape before him, waiting for something, anything to happen. The world on the other side of the fire seemed oddly peaceful, quiet, and calm. His gaze fell on a splintered log which at first was of no interest to him.

Until he saw a brush of white fur shift on the other side.

He didn’t have much time to think before a blur of white burst from behind the log in his general direction.

Being the snake that he was, he slithered out of the way rather than meeting the unknown attacker head on. It turned out to be the right thing to do, since apparently she wasn’t after him. He watched over his shoulder as she headed for the annoying red boy that attached himself to Krux, intending to simply make a run for it and leave the kid behind as fresh bait.

But he thought about the boy’s words, and considered the fact that he, too, followed the Rosas and breathed their air. Besides that, what if this ghostly stranger got away with her dastardly plan and went on to penetrate deeper within the Valley?

Krux came to a halt, considering his options. Run, leave the stranger – a packmate nonetheless – behind, possibly to die at the hand of this villain, or… Turn around, help a packmate and protect his home, even if it is going to burn to the ground regardless.

He saw his fault, and knew what he had to do. “Forgive me, Rosas.” He murmured under his breath before turning around to face the fight that was no doubt underway behind him. He hoped they wouldn’t look down on him for what he nearly did, and rather respected him for what he chose to do instead.

The adrenaline was back, and he charged toward the white female, barreling for her at as high a speed he could build in the distance between them. He lunged once he was close enough, and aimed for her haunches, hoping to latch on with his parted jaws. If he connected, he’d bite hard, pulling her back, away from her prey.

If she scooted out of the way, he’d quickly ground himself and start to go at her legs and feet, snapping his teeth at her and closing in on her with each audible chomp.
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#5

The other wolf offered no response to his comments, he simply turned away and headed further away from the flames. Claret bit his lip, unsure of whether or not to follow this anti-social specimen. For the first time in his life, he had to make his own mind up and the decision would not come from a chance encounter with someone like Majority. Only he could decide where he wanted to go. However, the hope that the other disciple would meet up with other members of their pack still flickered like candlelight in his subconscious. Perhaps nearly as strong as the flames behind him. Perhaps if Claret had been older and had left his birth pack of his own accord, he would feel more inclined to simply take himself away from the smouldering remains of his home. For now, however, Oukoku-kai was yet another home he had to mourn and his loyalty to it compelled him to tail Krux. He was about to ask the brute his name when the mostly white girl appeared from nowhere. Having begun to accept Oukoku-kai's strange religion, Claret was momentarily convinced he was seeing a spectre of some sort. Teeth locked around his neck, bringing him back to reality and he screamed. As any boy would when confronted by such a demon.

"ARGH!" Claret yelped. "GET OFF ME! LEAVE ME ALONE!"

He looked around desperately for Krux, preying that he would intervene. He was young and wary from the flames: a prime target for any attacker. Claret snarled in response to the lady's growl, but the sound was not directed at her or her heathen ways but at himself for being so weak and foolish. He would try and shake the other wolf off, still squealing pathetically as she was a lot bigger and stronger than he was. "HELP ME! SOMEBODY! PLEASE!" he screeched, upon realising that he was in trouble. Big trouble. Blood seeped down his coat, staining it a deeper red than it had been. After what seemed like an eternity, the other wolf came to his aid, trying to pull his attacker off him. The young timber would desperately struggle, hoping that the female would turn and focus on his companion. Claret had never known battle, or an attack where blood had been spilled. He was way out of his element here and wanted nothing more than to be as far away from this melee as possible. 

If he was successful in dislodging the wraith-like attacker, Claret would immediately try and stagger away without looking back or even attempting to help. While Krux had clearly had a change of heart, the young timber felt no such qualms. He did not even know the man's name, and what use did he have for a Fringe dire, anyway? Especially after his kind had destroyed his parents and his home. It was not like Claret could be much use anyway, or at least that was what he told himself. He was terrified and wounded, but he still had life flowing through his body. Potential. He intended to keep it that way. Karma would quickly bite him in the ass when he realised that his injured shoulder made it near impossible to run. Hide. That was his only option. 

Whimpering and snivelling, Claret would try and crouch under a clump of bushes, completely ignorant to the trail of blood he had left behind as he did so.




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Asger Him/He
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#6
(This post was last modified: March 08, 2019, 02:31:34 PM by Asger.)

Just like his former home, the fire spread, engulfing everything in its path and choking the dry land with thick plumes of smoke. He, too, had lost track of the others within the chaos and had been wandering through the valley for some time as the small flickering of torches got smaller and smaller compared to the growing inferno that surrounded him.

This was the second time Asger had found himself in such a situation in his short life and flashes of the beautiful land he had once called home raced through his head. The great Red Meadow, whose poppy fields spread as far as the eyes could see, in one frame, the river that cut through the territory his parents had claimed, in another. Even the great stretches of mountains to the North, whose steep sides were perpetually dotted with herds of mountain goat. Though, just as a smile lightly pulled at his muzzle from the memories, they quickly changed, inspired by the scenes unfolding around him, his mind's eye would be flashed with scenes of the Southern Volcano's eruption and the liquid fires that spewed from it. He even fancied being assaulted by the foul scents of sulfur and other gasses from that terrible event that had left the male scarred to this very day!

Unlike the first time, there was no fear shown as the flames slowly claimed the parched valley, leaving only small, narrow pathways to travel among the spreading chaos. Asger was now stopped in one of these, the walls of flame slowly closing in around him as he shook the memories from his head. What his mind was showing him wasn't real anymore. The heat of the fire licking at his sides and the walls of smoke blurring his vision, certainly was. He needed to get the hell out of here.

It was a short time later when the commotion would finally reach him as he zigzagged his way through the lands put to the flame, and just as the talking had drawn Ruen only a short time before, the yelps of the attacked male drew Asger, too, waking up that over-riding instinct within him to pile onto an animal being attacked.

Ears pivoted in the direction he calculated was the source of the cries as the muscles in his legs tensed and began to carry him forth. It turned out he wouldn't have far to go as the clearing soon opened up before his eyes and the young male could count what he guessed to be three others. One even smelled Saboran.

There was little time to evaluate the entirety of the situation, only the fact that one was currently charging a second, who happened to be attacking a 3rd. The sweet, coppery smell of crimson told that first blood had been drawn, intermixed with the scent of singed fur, and, without a second thought, Asger would throw himself into the fray; fores digging up pieces of the ground as he races forward.

His jaws part in the process as seconds quickly pass and the distance is closed as the largest one lunges.

This was the moment, the Slab discarding his instinctual desire to likewise attack the injured one as golden gaze would narrow and target the largest, instead. Throwing himself at the Fringe Dire, Asger was intending to intercept Krux from his right flank, or, failing that, at least grab him by the hind section, perhaps a leg, if he was lucky. There was always the possibility that his aim, caught in the moment as it were, would be completely off and miss entirely, however!
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Ruen She/Her
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#7
(This post was last modified: March 10, 2019, 04:22:44 PM by Ruen.)

The young wolf had sensed her coming, she thinks, and Ruen is forced to recalculate and latch onto the boy's neck. He struggles, but Ruen holds fast. Her teeth dig into his flesh, holding tight to his neck as she matches his footsteps for balance. He hollers like a child, and through the blood seeping over her teeth, the Saboran tastes what's sure to be a swift victory- When they scream, they show fear. And cowardice never wins... At least, not alone. 

A red eye cuts towards the other wolf, and to her dismay, he appears to have found his courage. Odd, he hadn't seem so inclined to intercept her before, but he was barreling fast for her haunches. She's not in the best position to defend herself, not unless she releases her squalling captive... And although she would rather keep her claim to him, it's inevitable if she's going to defend herself at all against this brute. Ruen rips her teeth away but hopes to painfully rip a bit of fur with it; he's free. In the chaos, she doesn't watch to see where he goes, but resolves to hunt him down later.

At about the same moment she releases the boy, Krux's jaws connect with the skin of her haunch. He chomps down hard on skin and fur with enough force to jerk her back. If only she'd let the boy go a fraction sooner, she might've saved her hide. She snarls as pain flares up her leg, but there's momentary relief in the realization that she's no longer alone. Someone else has this wolf in their sights. Whether or not Krux still hangs onto her leg, Ruen attempts to wheel herself around and snap at whatever she can reach. Face, fur, or air, she'd snap at it all in a mad objection to him spoiling her plot.

Alone, this wolf would have been a challenge. But together, she thinks, perhaps they'd tip the scales quickly. Serves him right for interfering. Ruen hopes to revisit the wounded boy as soon as they deal with this ornery rebel, but in the grand scheme of things, it didn't matter too much who went down when. Their only directive had been to snuff 'em out. It shouldn't be too difficult for two to overpower one, she hopes.


[Image: e4WOPyk.png] LIFE (); Ain't it a cakewalk, baby? Thrown in the

World, we dance and dance, and oh, so few earn a prize.

So in the whirling snarls of snapping teeth, I grab

What I wish is mine. And so it becomes.

Power, Illusions, Possessions~ They belong to me.

So grabba hold a ya mind, sinner, 

Lest you lose it.
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KRUX he/him
Death Valley
Death Valley
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#8

The battle was on, and things were going to get messy.

As Krux rushed the white vigilante, he saw the female release the red boy at the last moment. But she was not quite as fast as she needed to be.

Teeth met with fur and flesh, sinking into their target with ultimate satisfaction. His grip was solid and he felt her shift backward toward him with his pull. The sounds of struggle spilled into the air. Beautiful.

Krux watched from the corner of his ocean eyes as his “follower” retreated into hiding, leaving the Fringe Dire to fight on his own. Fucking typical, really. The larger male made a mental note to never second guess his snap decisions again and cursed himself for doing what he thought might appease the Gods.

What a load of shit. Clearly, he’d made a mistake.

The white female within his grip was struggling against him, trying to curl in on herself to reach back and snap at Krux. His lips pulled back into a smile, though it was hard to tell since he had his mouth full. She may have nicked his face in a few spots, but nothing she’d be overly satisfied with.

A flash of gray moved in his peripherals suddenly and he realized that there were more than just the three of them – well, two of them now, he supposed.

The latest participant charged at Krux. His jaws were parted, seeking out the same type of prize Krux had received. With little time to react, Krux held fast and braced himself as the gray male, smaller than him, made contact with Krux’s rear right leg. His teeth clamped around the section above the hock where there was still some meat to dig into.

Growling in response, Krux began to quickly weigh his options. He was now on his own, against two opponents apparently. Yes, he was the largest of the group, but that didn’t really matter when you were the target of two sets of jaws. Pain radiated from his leg as teeth bit down harder.

He didn’t have time to seek out where his little “friend” was, or to curse at him, though he’d like to in any other situation. He had to act now, and act smart.

Quickly, he ripped his teeth away from the white girl’s haunch, hoping to pull away some fur or flesh – or maybe both – as he did so. Then, he’d immediately turn his focus onto the gray male and shift his body to reach out at the male’s face with his teeth, snapping quickly and forcefully, aiming to rip and tear anything he made purchase on. He knew he wouldn’t be able to simply shake the male off; he’d have to force him to let go.

Unfortunately, this left him quite vulnerable to the female. His hope was to get the male off of his leg quickly, so he could reposition himself and prepare for whatever was to come next. Otherwise, he was at the mercy of the female and whatever pain she wished to inflict on Krux.

He had only himself to rely on, since it was obvious he was getting no help from the twat in the shrubs.
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#9

Aware of how much of a cowardly little shit he was being, Claret could only watch with rising horror - and guilt - as his new 'friend' was set upon by a second attacker. Despite Krux's size, Claret knew he was not going to last long against two combatants. You didn't exactly have to be a genius to have that figured out, especially when he was wide-eyed and at a complete loss of how to handle this situation he had placed himself in. For him. A wolf he had barely known for five seconds. Way to go, Claret. 

Why should he intervene? It was not like he could fight ghosts. And he was already wounded. 

BUT THE INJUSTICE OF IT ALL??

As Krux turned to face the male that had thrown himself into the fray, Claret immediately noticed that he was open to attack from the female. The ghost woman. Trying to convert his pain into the indignation and anger into rage or blind stupidity, Claret leapt from his hiding place and tried to throw himself at the female. If he was successful, he would go for the ear closest to his jaws or her face. Anything he could hold onto and rip and tear. Disfigure. He felt like the flames around him had taken hold in his heart, rendering him unable to do anything else other than destroy and maim. How dare they. How dare these mortals - these heathens - think they can prance onto their land and attack them. Just because the packlands were gone did not mean that the Rosas had not deserted them. Not in spirit. They would always prevail. In the hearts of their disciples. 

"JUST RUN!" he would call to Krux, who would hopefully have their second attacker covered. "LET'S GET OUT OF HERE!"

Of course, if he was unsuccessful in pinning his opponent, his only other option was to make himself as much of a nuisance as possible. Trying to bite and snap anything that came within reach of him. He knew that, due to his utter lack of experience, he stood no chance against a wolf that held even half of her strength and intelligence. But it was better than cowering beneath a bush and waiting to be hunted down. Everything around him was falling to pieces, burning to ashes and this was the one last element of control he had.




         profile • bin • played by rj
It's my own desire
It's my own remorse
Help me to decide
Help me make the most of freedom and of pleasure
vixxie's codes
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Asger Him/He
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#10
(This post was last modified: June 06, 2019, 07:47:02 AM by Asger.)

The battle was definitely on! Young male's heart pounded away in his chest while the sounds around him became somewhat drowned out. He focused only on his breathing and the thumping beat in his chest as the finge-dire became gradually bigger and bigger in the closing of distance, and now, the moment of truth.


Asger really did feel like he had hit a rock wall when his body finally collided with the fringe dire and jaws found a target; the larger male's leg, prompting him to bite down into the fur, meat and muscle above his hock. Okay, this was good, and that lovely warm, coppery liquid flowed onto his tongue! All of this happened in the span of a couple seconds, his thoughts racing to kept up, though, his body was on auto-pilot.


The young-adult had trained from a pup on how to spar with another. The bloodless matches teaching him how to throw his weight around just so to get leverage on an equally matched opponent. That went out the door here with the male who easily looked to have a good 30 or so pounds on him. Probably more! Asger would have to rely on speed, agility and his own jaw power.


The gray male glanced at his opponent, frame shifting with the continued momentum of his charge, away from Krux and to the left, which also happened to be the way he tugged on that leg he had. While the slab was certainly smaller in stature and weight, there was absolutely no fear in that golden gaze of his, even as the other male ripped himself free of the female Saboran and aimed at him, instead. Head gave another of his firm, tugging jerks to the left, attempting to pull him off his feet, despite the likely futility of the situation, yet, at the same time, the male ripped his fangs free in a similar fashion when he saw the dire's head turn for him, hopefully opening up his back leg in the process.


Slab's own features already held a slight crimson masking around his lips and muzzle where blood had soaked it way into the fur, a flash of white through the gore as agape jaws redirected and moved up, towards the incoming face of his attacker! He did his best to avoid the grab of the others jaws in an attempt to slip beneath his muzzle for a grab at the Dire's throat or the side of his neck, a snarling growl spilling from him. This of course left him open in a number of areas: muzzle, face, the back of his neck... success or failure would likely depend on what exactly Ruen opted to do, though, regardless, he braced himself to be grabbed by the strangely-colored brute.


He had no time to worry about the coward, Claret, who finally reappeared from the bushes and moved to attack Ruen. She would have to defend herself now, as would he. Despite hearing those words from the boy, he didn't falter, finding it unlikely the tall standing male would give up the fight. Would Asger, were he in Krux's situation? No.
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