Muggy, tepid air swarmed the grassy, rock-splattered plains. It clung to the brute’s raven fur as he moved like a sable spectre across the grounds, albeit one with formidable power. Heavy paws crushed earth underfoot as they trampled the ground mercilessly. The summer heat was not a scorching one, not here. It was more of the lukewarm kind, drowned in misery and grim, humid glug. Tye had not spent much time in these grounds. They were mainly for hunters so though warriors were not an uncommon sight, they weren’t non-existent. Tye had come here for purposes that were two-fold. As a warrior, his duties were not concerned with hunting but it was a skill that was prized and treasured and most importantly, necessary for the pack to survive and thrive. In doing so, he would be fulfilling hunger that was gnawing at his stomach and add to the kill-pile. Then there was the development in that other area of his life that had sprung up on him unexpectedly but not unwelcomingly. Love it seemed, the ever growing fondness for another had thawed his heart just a little. He had not seen it coming and had only placed a name for it just recently. It was no secret by now, what he harboured for the healer with the firebrand eyes. But what he wanted was not absolute and with the recent abandonment of the Alphess and Alpha’s pups to Steele and by association, the pack, he knew that requesting for something like mates was likely to be met with an end that was ill-fated and premature. His Alpha was not exactly a benevolent saint or one to take something like that well. Tye was a creature of patience so he would wait until the time was right and not deprive a child of their father or mother or both. And he wouldn’t make Cliché suffer as well.

Tye prowled the edges of the moors, his ghastly, powerful form traversing over the rocks jutting out with steady, quick paws eyes skipping over each prey searching for a weak, injured one or one that was separated from the rest of its kin. It was for their own benefit as well as the species. In order to ensure their prey continued to feed them he left the strongest children alive so that they too could go on to produce offspring of their own which the weakest of would then be able to feed the pack’s pups in the future. His eyes landed on one that was lingering far away from the others. It was a young buck, wandering. Its left hind back leg was bent at an awkward angle and it limped as it walked. There. Tye’s head sunk close to the ground, ears bent forwards and hackles raising sharply. Silently he approached the buck, a predatory gleam shining in chips of ice blue that were his eyes. And without so much as a growl, he shot forwards slamming into the buck’s side and knocking it over with a thunderous crash. Crrrack! Bones splintered and broke underneath his left forepaw as he twisted the neck at a vicious angle as he went down the buck. His claws punched into its tender flesh, teeth tearing into its lungs and heart within seconds. Blood gushed out in running streams, splattering his face and neck. Tye lifted his bloody face, gazing down at the dead creature emotionlessly as he mentally set aside portions for the pack and himself. He would take the least delicate part and save the stronger parts for the others as was customary.

(ooc - Yes there is a little cussing in this post, I felt it to perfectly match Magnus' emotional state but if there are any issues with it I will change it.)


Less than a week had passed since his audience with the Alpha. He stalked in the hunting moors with anger in his heart and murderous fire in his eyes. He had wanted to waste no time in being with Chiara. But he had respect for authority. He was quick to see his Alpha and ask permission to be mates with Chiara and to mate with her in the coming winter. He wanted nothing more than to see her stomach round, carrying his pups. he wanted to be with her in body and in mind. He wanted to give her everything and be her everything. It was odd for the Lead Hunter to be this way about anyone, but he felt so sure about Chiara he didn't need to hesitate in asking the Alpha permission to mate with her. Just looking around at the moors reminded him of her. On their very first hunt together. She had ended up with some serious injuries, but nothing she couldn't pull through. But thoughts of Chiara turned to thoughts of Steele. And once more he brooded on what he needed to tell her.

The very idea that Steele would mate with Chiara. The fact that he would request it. It was just so wrong. It reminded Magnus far too much of his old pack. A place that housed wolves he truly despised. They casually condoned such activity. The Alpha would mate with multiple females even out of mating season, purely to satiate his lust. In the younger generations there became issues of inbreeding. And then came the offer from Tortall. Their King gladly provided the Alpha with countless females in exchange for keeping the peace and not overrunning the lands. For their pack held enough members. None of it sat well with Magnus. He was so truly pissed off that even the smallest thing could make him snap. He was so close to falling off that edge and plummeting into the abyss of dark chaos. He would drown in his own despair. He needed a constructive outlet for his anger, and hunting was the thing he did best.

He stood proud and careful atop the hill, glaring down at the large herd below. his keen eyes searched for one so sickly or elderly, their death would not affect future reproduction of the community. A buck caught his eye, which seemed odd due to the creatures youth. But it was soon apparent why the male had struck him, he was distinctly separated from the herd, limping from his left hind leg. A simple enough kill, the youth was too inexperienced to yet to mount a successful getaway and his injury meant he would not survive long anyway. He dropped low, his belly caressed by the dry grass. He tasted the humid air and crept his way accordingly to be downwind from the beast. he checked his positioning and ran through his game plan. a short sprint, followed by a surprising leap from below and a quick piercing to the jugular. Simple. But he only got one bound out before a dark form threw itself into his field of vision and slammed into the buck.

He growled hard and loud and shot forward after the interloper. Watching the large dark body tear at the carcass only made him think that the Alpha had stolen yet another victory from him, and it only made him madder. "You!" He roared. He tackled the male and they went sprawling into the dirt. As they slowed and eventually stopped he stood over the male snarling furiously. "First you steal Chiara from me and now this?!" But on closer inspection he saw it was his friend Tye. But he was so far gone, so damn angry that it did nothing to calm his fury. The storm raged within him as he reared up on his hind legs and struck the ground with such a force it was un-wolf-like. "How dare you?! You have no right to just come in here and steal another wolfs kill!" He snarled and snapped, foam gathering at the corners of his muzzle as he prepared to strike.

As he began to tear off a part of the leg, he heard something, a roar along with words that seemed somewhat familiar to him. Tye paused, slightly confused. He didn't know that there were mountain lions around these areas. Then something bulldozed into him, knocking the wind from his lungs. Caught off-guard, he saw the afternoon skies tilt upwards and felt fur brush him. Ah, another wolf, he thought as he skidded. He would have thought it was their only female hunter except she was strong enough to hit him with such force. When the dust settled he was on his back, a far distance away from the carcass. His fore-paw was already raised, ready to slash at his attacker's eyes when he saw who it was. It was one who he had grown acquainted and formed some kind of friendship with. Odd. Though Magnus was known to be hot-headed and aggressive, he would never have attacked a fellow pack-mate's hunt. Unless, for some reason he believed Tye to have stolen what he thought was rightfully his kill. That was the only reason he had as Tye had done no wrong towards him that he knew of. He gazed up at him with a somewhat quizzical look, twin icicles set within blood-stained pitch black fur. There was barely any difference in terms of height or body structure with the two and Tye was not scared, rather wondering why Magnus had reacted the way he did.   It seemed he would get his answer when the other male spoke of him stealing Chiara from him. That was puzzling and strange. Tye hadn't even known the wolf was seriously pursuing her or that the affections were mutual between them. And he hadn't spoken or interacted with Chiara ever since their escapade on the beach. He made to shove the other off him, correcting his assumption of him when he continued, rage fueling him and hit the ground with his hind legs with monstrous force. In that moment Tye was reminded of his old pack, so much that even though the memories were a distant past a few things still remained as wandering echoes. It reminded Tye of the times he had to fight for his life against bigger, much stronger wolves who knew only how to rage and commit brutality when they were hurt. They were the ones that were truly beasts and were quick to anger, lashing out at others because they did not know any other way to ease their pain or as an act of revenge against the one that had wronged them. Or because anger was the only reaction that they were capable of. Tye didn't know what caused Magnus to react this way but he knew that his friend was a better wolf than that, well as much as better could exist within a pack of devils. However Magnus seemed too blinded by his own rage to see clearly and for a second, Tye had the inkling that he was mistaking him for someone else. The only other wolf besides him who could steal Chiara was Irrationality or Steele, thus provoking Magnus' ire. Now he didn't think Magnus would mistake him for Irrationality even with the mental state he was in at the moment. Their pelts were so different as were their eyes and builds. Tye was more muscular and had a pelt of midnight black as opposed to Irrationality's rusted, mulit-hued reds and browns and he appeared more manic as opposed to the former's overall lucidity so that left their great Alpha. Charming.

Tye twisted to the side, shoving the hunter away by using the flat side of his fore-paw to the side of his face as he did so. Standing, he grunted, "I'm not your enemy Magnus. I don't care about Chiara except for as a pack-mate and my superior and that was my kill, not yours. You are not the Alpha of these lands. Your word is not law." He watched Magnus warily, expression calm. They were only inches apart one from one another. The fur on his back of his neck was poised though as they naturally seemed to be all the time making it seem as if he was ready to fight as much as Magnus was. It was a tiny partial truth because he had wanted that kill. For all of Magnus' rage, Tye was already systematically and ruthlessly pinning down possible weak points, moves and counter-attacks. He had been in this situation many times before. It was the only thing life seemed to enjoy dealing him. Magnus, though he become something of a friend to Tye, was a threat at the moment which he had to either defend himself from or neutralize. He didn't think the other wolf would see reason and probably interpret his attack as sign of disrespect or an actual attempt to hurt him so he prepared himself for a fight. Still, he tried again, his voice deep and strong, "It's me, Tye. Your friend."

(ooc - all good Steele. That's been fixed.
@Tye, sorry it's a bit short.)

Magnus was unceremoniously thrown aside by the Warrior. The brute tried reasoning with him, but Magnus was too far gone. his earlier assumption seemed correct, it had taken only a small thing for him to snap. Sure, in normal times Magnus would be slightly offended and perhaps even a little mad, but he would eventually walk away and try for another. Tye being his friend might have, under different circumstances, helped calm the raging male. On this day there was no hope. Magnus was hell bent on mayhem and madness. Pure destruction in fire and blood.

He growled and snarled terribly at Tye, not caring that it was his friend and not his Alpha. How weak could he be that he had to steal anothers kill? Did he even intend to share with the rest of the pack? He was a stupid warrior, nothing more. He should have stayed an Omega for all the Lead Hunter cared. It was what he deserved. Such lowlife scum didn't deserve the honour of protecting their pack. "No. You're not my friend Tye! Friends don't steal what belongs to another friend!" He launched himself forward, baring his canines and aiming a fearsome bite for the black wolfs shoulder. He couldn't help the pained sound that tore from his maw as he did so. Each blow he would make would be laced with all of his pain and anger and frustration.

Reasoning was not the first thing Tye usually did when he was in a fight. Tye was not that much of a pacifist nor was he that much of a reflective type. He did what was necessary to survive but he knew blind rage when he saw it. There was still a bleak window of opportunity. Magnus hadn’t attacked yet. Another millisecond a more and he could. Piercing blue eyes stared back into his friend’s burning gold, calmness against passionate fury. Tye smiled to himself mentally. It was almost like old times. He wanted to reach out to the male but he could tell he had an assumption in mind that could not be shifted. To him, Tye was the usurper, the callous cruel wolf who willingly and gleefully ripped away everything he held ear. He would have even guessed that Magnus thought him unworthy and selfish. Perhaps he thought him to be unfit to be a warrior from the disgust and disdain oozing from his eyes. As he snarled and growled at him, Tye continued to gaze at him with the same expression on his face. It was akin to a glacier that had been submerged into an ocean of blood. Unmoving, solid, and unable to be rattled even as one hacked and hacked away at it with an axe. The blood just coloured its surface, not affecting it and being able to be washed away by the rain leaving it as hard and impenetrable as ever. His visage, though rough, seemed to be sewn from the same material. It was unflinching, even a little cold but always composed. It didn’t reveal the thoughts that it was flashing through ruthlessly like he was running through an invisible hand-book. He ran by scenarios involving a break of the leg, a body slam followed by the fracture of a leg, a rush to knock him out among others. It was about to get a whole lot bloodier. His ears folded back upon his skull, hackles shooting upwards and the top of his muzzle crinkling as he revealed his fangs which were still bloodied raw from his attack on the deer. When Magnus collided into him, body crashing into his in a full frontal assault, Tye was pushed back from the force. He had instinctively raised his fore-legs, upper body rising in elevation to meet the other. He heard something, a pained cry come from the other wolf at the same time. Perhaps he should have felt something for the wolf but he didn’t. He had seen this happen. Magnus’ teeth plunged deep into his shoulder because of the proximity. A flicker of pain appeared in his eyes but only for an infinite second. Tye’s claws stabbed into Magnus’ flesh, gauging through skin and muscle as he slashed at the other’s shoulder in return, ramming into him at an angle with full force aiming to send him toppling to the nearby rock headfirst. He had used enough strength to make the other wolf fall with ease. He growled, “You’re in over your head here little king. I’m not going to bring Chiara back home a dead body to love.”

Magnus was thrown quite unceremoniously, likely taking quite a chunk from the warriors shoulder. Though he managed to roll with the movement and steady his landing. He popped up quickly, a little dazed and disoriented. He turned on the male he had called friend, a blind rage overcoming him as he spat his words. "You are no fighter! You can't even throw me, a lowly hunter." He mocked. "Were you this worthless in your old pack? Is that why they kicked you out? Couldn't handle yourself against the other wolves? I bet even the scrawniest female Omega could have you on your back in seconds. Your were better off as an Omega, although you being attached to the title is an insult to all Omegas of the world. But it is better than trying to throw your weight around as a warrior. You don't even deserve the name. Who have you protected? Who have you ever killed? You couldn't even dispose of Katyusha when she was weak from Helidos." He paced back and forth in agitation, snarling with each insult he thre at the other.

"I bet your father couldn't even stand the sight of you and you mother was embarrassed to have ever giving birth to a whelp like you. I'd love to find the ones they call Elites and Guardians of your lot. So I can educate them in how to kill a weakling properly." He licked the foam from his mouth, a constant sneer crinkling his muzzle as he looked down on the pup. "I suppose it's not entirely your fault," His voice softened a tad. "I mean, you just happened to be born into a pack of useless wolves and you were the runt! I can't even fathom how you possibly made it past your weaning much less how you progressed to come of age. Were you coddled? Or did you scavenge like the useless crow you are. He crept very close, their noses spouting short breaths on one another. He spoke softly. "Coloured in black and think themselves far more important than they are. They feed on the leftovers of those better than them and are useless for all else except stealing and dying. Perhaps we should help you fulfill your destiny." His lips now by the other males hear, he let off a low growl and twisted his head to the side, snapping at the delicate cartilage, aiming for a major artery. He pulled and pulled, wanting to tear little pieces from the whelp. To make him suffer a truly horrific death.

So he hadn't cracked his head on the rocks which was a pity because that meant that Tye had to resort to even more vicious measures. The male was rambling. spitting out insults and words that ran into each other until it was an incoherent mess to him though he picked out bits and pieces. Whether he'd killed or protected anyone before. He had killed otherwise he wouldn't be alive. As the other male paced back and forth, Tye started to prowl, eyes fixated on the shoulder he'd slashed before travelling down to Magnus' foreleg. He could see almost see the veins pulsing, the muscle. Raising his eyes to Magnus' he said with no particular inflection in his tone, "It's nice that you acknowledge you're not even a competent hunter Magnus. Maybe that's why you became one instead of warrior. You're too much of a coward to throw yourself into the rigours and training of being truly great. Too worried you're going to ruin your pretty coat I guess. It's admirably pathetic how you're trying to be a magnificent king when all you are is a lowly peasant. But that's alright. Some wolves just don't have the guts or talent. I guess being talented in babbling has its uses." He straightened as he mentioned his parents, his eyes becoming cold, much colder than their usual icy blues. When the other wolf crept closer, hurling more garbage at him they grew even more lighter, dangerous."Yes...I was coddled by a loving father who forced me to train every day in the early hours of the morning and turned his fangs and claws on me every time I made one tiny mistake. I was coddled by my useless brother and pack-mates who thought throwing me into a river in the middle of winter at night was the best way to teach me how to swim and fought me on a daily basis to death, tried to intimidate me and treated me like a meek, helpless rabbit. I scavenged for life." The distance between them closed, noses almost touching. Tension mounted the air. One swipe and he could have torn the other male's muzzle down to the bone. His friend was reminding him more and more of the wolves in his old pack, the ones that were nothing more than muscle-bound fools. Tye whirled around, ignoring the flash of pain that shot from his ear when Magnus attacked it and clamped his jaws around the other's left foreleg with a low snarl, yanking his head down and to the side to bring the wolf with him and make him tumble face-first into the stone near them. He had no doubt Magnus was making mince meat of his ear from the constant tearing but he didn't care. He pushed the pain to the back of his mind, tightening his hold until he was sure the leg was going to snap and put his right foreleg over the back of the other's neck as a choke-hold. Blood flowed through his teeth, raining down his face mixing with the deer's blood.

Magnus tore and chewed on the warriors left ear, turning it into useless mush between his teeth. Close to half the ear had been ruined beyond repair and blood coated his muzzle. Sweet wolfs blood. There was truly nothing like it. The taste was bittersweet in ones knowledge of its acquisition, but the taste was too exquisite to ignore. The Lead Hunter took a moment to allow the crimson to flood down his throat. Ambrosia exploded upon his taste buds, treating it to one of the few true delights. The taste and texture excited the make to no end, creating a surge of furious energy. In all of these few moments the tide would turn. Tye tore his ear from Magnus' grip, worsening the injury already inflicted. Magnus managed to reassert his lock on the flimsy cartilage, to his detriment. His head was dragged down as solid jaws locked onto his left foreleg. There was no time, his brain registered no pain in its adrenaline-fused state, and so no yelp of pain was to be heard. Cranium crashed into the dirt with a solid thud, the males locked in an awkward position. The hunter was the first to give, releasing the useless half-ear back to its owner. He growled long and low at his opponent. When he had been screaming insults at his friend, he noticed perhaps an inkling of something he could use. His mother. Tye was a mummy's boy. He didn't like insults directed at his mother. He couldn't even bring himself to address them. He gave a most evil grin as he whispered. "Oh my little Tye, was your mother so inept she couldn't produce enough milk for you? Did she prefer your siblings over you, gave them your share so you ended up an underfed runt?" His voice was mockingly sweet, too sickly for anyone to stomach. He wasn't in the best of positions but the adrenaline combined with the wolfs blood sent him stirring. He whipped his entire body around, thrashing his neck up to lock his jaws on the foreleg. That dared pin his throat. At the same time his hips bucked free, the slightly smaller hind paws clawing at his opponents belly as if sharpening his claws on it. And this they looked as such: Magnus lay half on his side, his jaw clutching Tye's right foreleg. Tye holding Magnus' left foreleg in a vice like bite. And hind paws kicking and scratching at bellies. It was certainly not an ideal position.

Tye could feel the ear tearing at the seams, rendered into bloody ribbons as he exerted more pressure on while he slammed Magnus into the stone. The sacrifice of one good ear for the time being wasn’t wasted as his move worked and his fangs shredded through the muscle of the other male’s foreleg, burrowing deep until it was close to hitting bone. More blood spilled out onto the grey stones, soaking it with dark crimson and making water-falls cascade down the side to seep into the grass. One move and Tye could snap his leg in half until the bone had pierced skin, poking out like a macabre ornament. His claws sank deeper into the other’s flesh, scything through what was already a wounded shoulder. His features, draped with the blood of his friend, the deer and even some of his own blood that was streaming down his face into his eyes, were emotionless once more as if Magnus was just another wolf that he needed to kill or he would die. And if one had been observing from afar, it would have appeared that his eyes resembled the look of a cold-blooded killer with a heart of pure, unfeeling ice. Any sign of mercy was not shown and there was none to be had in his heart when he had no room for it. Of course, there was also no sense to be killing when it would do nothing but lose a valuable fighter. Besides, Magnus was a strong wolf. He was sure the other male could recover from a broken leg just as he could. Just as he was about to twist, he heard the other speak again. None of that was true. The male was shooting on empty words but that was all he had. Still, it was disrespect of the highest order. Tye jerked his head, twisting the leg he held in his jaws with an earth-shattering snap that whipped the languid air like a rattle-snake. With a grunt, he ripped the foreleg that was in the other’s jaws out. Flesh and muscle tore with a blood-curdling rip like bark being scissored in half. That leg wasn’t much use now and would slow him down but he had lived through worse. Without missing a beat, Tye vaulted at the wolf, dragging him down in a flash of black fur across the pointy, jagged edge of another nearby stone with his uninjured foreleg across his throat to block off the air supply for a moment and using his body and strength to pin the other in place onto his back. He left no room for the other’s claws to scratch him or an opportunity for his fangs to tear his throat but the majority of the leverage lay in his upper torso with his injured leg being something of a hindrance that was not as strong as it could be to fully take advantage of the position he was in. It wasn’t perfect but if he hadn’t voluntarily taken his leg out it would’ve been in a worse condition than it was currently. They had travelled a grand distance of two body lengths with that move, knocking into the carcass in the process that had been the instigator for the fight. Tye’s vision was partially red due to the blood from his maimed ear, fur matted with blood but his pitch black fur was ramrod straight, quivering along the spine and tail and neck like a battalion of gladiators that was ready to strike. Staring down at Magnus with electric blue eyes through a mass of blood-stained granite obsidian, Tye spoke in an eerily calm voice, “Never. Ever. Ever speak about my mother like that or I’ll make sure you lose your other leg.” His voice turned deeper, menacing with the beginnings of a low, bestial growl, “What does a pampered little runt like you know about suffering? Since you generously tried to end my life then I’ll grant you the favour of helping you experience it as you helped me.” He pushed down hard on the other’s throat, watching his face with uncaring, merciless eyes.

[Now is as good of time as any to jump in, love what ya'll are up to so far]

Cassiopeia's eyes were wide and alert, her legs at a full trot and her tail tucked ready for the hunt. She had scented rabbit in the air, a delicious animal perfect for the ravenous hunger of a wolf. A previous rabbit had darted off in the direction she was speeding towards, her feet surprisingly quiet even for her pace. Slowing, her brown eyes and cream ears traced the signs of a new meal, she neared a stop. Her mind was thoroughly mesmerized by the hunt, she had no room for anything but the pulse of the vermin's heart and the near silent movements it made. Her demon pulsed in time with the tiny beat, blood lust on his tongue and torture in his mind. She sometimes gorged his wishes, lapping at the crimson liquid, letting in make its way down her throat in its metallic, yet delicious, way. She would also let him take the reins, if only for a moment, and induce fear in the thing's beady black eyes. She would feel herself divided, both disgusted by his acts and yet she felt herself craving more. But her plans were demolished by a loud noise, her prey sensed the opportunity and ran for it. Her own paws could not beat the ground as quickly as the little hare's could and so she lost it in the chase. The blood lust, unsatisfied, turned into anger and then progressed to rage, what had interrupted his feeding? Her own feelings weren't nearly as strong, more like absent curiosity to see what might have scared away her food. If there was something to which she might take out her demon's anger than she most certainly would not hold him back.

A hill separated the fae from whatever had caused the disturbance. Her first thoughts were of a possible clash of bucks, two deer butting head to head. But the season was only slightly off and the telltale signs of such were missing, the scent of testosterone, the clatter of bone against bone. Instead the air was laced with the sound of voices, harsh and irritated, such drew Cassiopeia in, lust once again on her demon's lips. Mounting the hill she found herself faced with a wolf she knew, rather well in fact, along with one she had only heard of and seen. Blue eyes flashed among spikey black fur, none but the Warrior Tye held these features. The other was the pack's lead hunter, Magnus as he was called, one Cassiopeia had not had the pleasure to lull with her rhythmic words. Though charm was far from her, she did enjoy the sound of her own voice, the swaying ribbons which she swung into the air. It was truly more of a dance to her than anything else, the same as a truly perfect fight. One where the dancers were so in sync that they knew the other's move before it had been taken. A battle so romantic that it only ended with death, sorrow and pity found no solace in either of the actors, death was the only road to be taken and the participants knew it.

But this was not one of those fights, beauty and grace was stolen greedily away from this arena. Instead her solid brown eyes found untrained, fumbling men, sure fighters but never dancers. There was no joy in the perfect movements or the swish of a tail, instead the only pleasure was found in the hope for butchery. Her true manner receded, giving way for the god of chaos, her demon who wished misery upon all. He was the one watching through her eyes, she simply maneuvered herself so that she might be comfortable while his crimson fire feasted. The blood flowing from Tye made the demon lick his chops, he desperately wanted to stride forward and taste of the red river. But Cassiopeia anchored him down, there would be no vampyric feeding, she would not allow wolf's blood to soak her pure coat nor her tongue. Her heart skipped a beat at the flurry of black fur and blood that arched through the air. It was magnificent to behold and she could feel herself fill with heat as Tye broke the other wolf's leg. She was in a state of glory, adrenaline pulsing through her own veins though she was free from the embrace of the fight. Her eyes were wide and hypnotized, unable to drift away from the bloodshed, her masochistic tendencies at their finest. Completely enthralled she had no words to speak, no movement to make, she was an observer in the finest sense. She had no intentions to help or hinder, merely to watch in awe of the two males. Finding the gore to be sensual and the carnage truly sultry, it had and would always be her devil's only true love.

Their position was tenuous at best, but it seemed Tye wanted a win far more than Magnus. Perhaps he was a little more used to fighting for his own life. Perhaps he could not stand insults against his mother. Weakling. Their mutual hold was not long for this world as the Warrior tore his right foreleg from the Hunters vice, leaving truly bloody marks upon the wrists. He then twisted his head to the side, snapping the bone of the Hunters left foreleg with a sickening crunch. Instinct saw an instant yelp of pain escape his maw for a moment, before the adrenaline removed all traces of pain.

In his fiery orbs there was no remorse, no sense of camaraderie. There was not even the thought that he might be punished for killing a warrior. He couldn’t care less. He just wanted the prey-stealing whelp to die for his crimes. Never once did he consider his anger was misdirected. Never once was there a proposition of surrender. Magnus had to win or die valiantly as he saw things. There was no other way for the enraged brute.

He never worried when he was turned onto his back and pinned roughly. He never faltered. His strength renewed when he caught a glimpse of the others injured leg causing him trouble. He grinned maliciously as their faces became close, the obsidian one whispering harshly. Magnus was prepared. ”You… know nothing of death.” He managed quietly before the pressure on his throat increased too much. He glared into the cold eyes of his enemy. He should have known there could never be friendship between them. Even their eyes fought as opposites. Water always won over fire… but fire could easily melt ice. The eyes of death stared at him, welcomed him. He glared back with a single thought in his mind. Not today.

Instead of moving away from the pressure and providing himself just a little more air, he did quite the opposite. He leaned into the paw and reached up. His scarred muzzle encircled that of Tye and clamped down with a mighty force. The action was one he had used often on a deer in its death throes, suffocating the beast with the carbon dioxide from his own lungs. With that leverage, he shook his head to the right, unsettling the male and rolling with the action. He placed himself over the dark brute, allowing no gap for movement between them. He had rolled specifically so his left leg would not bear his own weight first. It was a sweet momentary victory, but the moment his paw held too much mass, he faltered. He managed his position, but it was a weak one. Either would win this battle, but Magnus could not stay standing for much longer. If he wanted to end it, it had to be soon.

Tye waited to see the blood drain from his face, see him choke for precious air. Words escaped his muzzle, just audible in the trembling silence. Tye applied more pressure, targeting the wind-pipe. His claws tore at the skin. He could not see the brute as a friend, not now. Something corrosive was burning whatever bridge they had formed. He smiled down at Magnus but it didn’t touch his eyes. It was humourless, hollow and broken. He said icicles dripping from every syllable,“I know more about death than you could ever imagine puppy.” Magnus’ eyes met his and Tye could tell all he saw of him was as an enemy, maybe even the Grim Reaper considering what he had said about death. Soaked in blood and sheathed in a pelt of morbid black with a towering frame, it fit in a way. Tye’s intention hadn’t been to kill him but the thought had emerged just then, only halted by his common sense and prior feelings towards the hunter. Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t suffer. And it appeared that Magnus had only death on his mind as he dealt a blow to his muzzle and rolled, with himself attached. As they did Tye lashed out with his back leg, smashing into Magnus’ own with the force of a battering ram. He ended up on his back. They were close with no room to move. Their noses were inches apart. He could have scooped out the other male’s innards with a flick of his claws but that wasn’t his goal. Ignoring the pain and blood, he slammed his head into Magnus’ face with a ferocious head-butt that was sure to fracture some bones or break his nose and twisted, heaving him off with enough strength to send him flying through the air towards the edge of another stone. As he stood up, he wiped away blood from his eyes with the back of his forepaw. It was only then that he noticed Cassiopeia there, having come when they had been in that death-lock. Paying her a brief moment of attention, for if he let his attention stray from the fight, he turned back to Magnus. Both of them had sustained heavy injuries. All that was left was will-power.      

Posting Order
Warrior Tye
Warrior Cassiopeia
Lead Hunter Magnus

occ: Next time please tell me when you're going to join Cass. Other than that, welcome.

Cassiopeia's need for violence was steadily growing and that taste for blood was being satisfied. The males clashed with a certain force which appeased the beast within her. Her mouth watered as Tye tightened on Magnus's windpipe and she nearly drooled as Magnus lashed back, clamping himself on Tye's muzzle. It was all too much, blood rushed to her brain telling her to calm down. Remember herself and possibly even stop this before it came too late. Her imprisoned self, hidden away behind the warmongering demon, pleaded with her to look away. To regain control, it questioned what would she do if their Alpha were to show up and she sat merely watching. Of course with a snarky reply she answered that he would watch too, Erenyx was screwed up enough that it was a possibility. The conversation in mind took nearly none of her attention, that little locked up part of herself wasn't very strong. The devil only turned away from the thrilling battle to try and drown that little nagging part of her. His eyes were ablaze with absolute wonderment, crimson light glowed through her eyes and she was hypnotized. Using his distraction, that little part of her nudged him towards the brink of losing control. Pushed him to where he might lose it and where she could once again seize control, a coup d'etat of sorts.

Victory took as Cassiopeia took a step forward, a single, trembling step which might lead to disaster. Then she blinked and snapped out of her trance, looking around to see where she might have ended up. She still felt quite dreamlike, all of it a very seducing nightmare, but the two still fought before her. Keeping her eyes from the fight, unsure of the security of her position, she took a couple steps back. She hoped a difference in proximity might help, get her away from the intoxicating smell of fresh blood. Completely caught up in her own matters she did not see Tye pay his attention to her, even the short moment it was. Nor did she notice the tired, drawn out nature of the fight, the need for a close. It was as if the only thing keeping the curtain from a close was the refusal of the actors to leave the stage. But she was taken away from the scene, suffering a silent blow inside of her, a slap from the demon trying relinquish his chains. He wanted, no needed, his chaos and he was hurting her internally to get it. A headache ensued accompanied by the shutter of crimson over her vision. She seemed to crumpling up, chipping and shattering, no longer a wolf but a broken mirror's reflection of one. She receded further from the fellow wolves and their fight, trying to regain her composure, the only thing which held her back from madness. The camouflage which hid away her cracks and marred perfection, it also chained away the demon to quiet voices and subtle suggestions. Lifting her brown eyes she found herself almost eye level with the hill, still in view of the spar, but only barely. She retained her position on the rise, slowly stretching out her limbs so that she no longer looked like a crumbled paper ball. Her eyes stayed low, head close to the ground protecting her neck. But now she watched the fight with a detached nature, no longer lusting after each blood droplet. Instead she stuck to guessing who might come out on top, the wolf standing bloody with maw stretched over their opponents waiting neck.

[Sorry I can cut in if need be...?]

Magnus' black leg was shot from under him, causing a gasp and mild yelp from the Hunter. He released the Warriors mouth as he collapsed upon the brute. He was panting from the effort, so tired and sick of this existence. He was not honoured, nor revered. Nor was he cherished my anyone. None had a love for him. None would care. His Alpha, a brute he had sworn all loyalties to, had become his worst enemy. Had stolen everything he cared about. He thought of Chiara and yet he did not think of her. He did not think of the female he wanted to remember her as: strong, powerful and beautiful. He remembered her as what she would become. A mistress among the Alpha's harem.

All he could think of was this cruelty. Of how the very thing he had loved had been torn from him. For a moment he forgot his honour. He forgot how he had sworn he would still love Chiara even as she bore the bastard brood. In his logical mind all this was true. But in the mind of the demon that had overcome him he was nothing more than a blood thirsty usurper. But he had gone after the look-alike rather than the true one. He hadn't even bothered to seek out the son and destroy the very thing that mattered to the brute. But perhaps it was not his way to go after pups and apprentices. He did indeed have some reason to be upset with the kill-stealer, but any onlooker could easily see he had overreacted.

His thoughts spiralled ever downward, only to be brought to an abrupt halt by the brutal head butt enacted by the other. Only then to be thrown - or rather heaved. He flopped heavily, slowly hauling himself up, wincing with the pain now in two of his paws. The Warrior looked away as he smeared blood from his eyes. A quicker than lighting eye flicker told him another wolf was present, but he didn't care to discover who. He lowered his head, snarling, and crept forward, limping slightly despite his choice of ignorance to pain. Tail turned to a hardened rod, not flying softly with the air or drooping with ease. It was rigid and angry just like the remainder of his features. He lunged forward, aiming for the neck in a feeble but still effective movement, baring canines in a truly awesome ferocity.

It appeared Tye's thoughts about the fae was warranted as she took one step into his line of vision, blood-lust in her eyes but for now, his attention remained on Magnus. Numbness was starting to wash through his veins like ice. It was the blood loss he guessed. Yet his mind was strangely so much clearer than it had ever been. Everything seemed to slow down to infinite particles of a reality that he had never been blessed with seeing. He could see the blades of grass that the two males had trampled with their wrestling, shimmering with blood. He could see the slight, slighter shades of slate grey peeking out from the darker shades on the top of the rocks that were jutting out of the grass. And when Magnus lunged at him he could see every movement that took hold of the wolf's body flow into motion to create one perfect picture. He could see where each intricate movement started and ended, where each limb would follow. Everything slowed down. His ice blue eyes grew even colder, draped in a veneer of blood as his mind snapped into motion as snapshots flashed one by one. A lunge to his neck. A tiny step to the side, back paw moving to twist his body out of the way. Possible injury to the leg as Magnus passed him. He would land, spin to attack. Counter with a swipe to the muzzle. Momentary lapse or possible attack. Most likely possible attack so counter with a body slam. Injuries sustained: Broken leg, fractured muzzle, bruised back. Side Effects: Ears ringing, blood loss, scarring. Full recovery period: Similar to his, three-six months. And the world shifted back into focus. Tye shifted his right paw, twisting his body to the side so that the other's fangs grazed his leg instead of sinking into his neck and slid into position for Magnus' next attack when he would inevitably land.

The boys moved with speed, getting faster as the intensity of the fight increased. Cassiopeia could only catch glimpses of their eyes, but she saw something that alarmed her. Tye showed cold calculations and the slightest hint of acknowledgement, he was too busy for much more. But Magnus showed wrath, buried in his eyes was a deep seated rage which would not be so easily broken. Cassiopeia wondered what Tye might have triggered in this beast, his icy exterior surely not one for the kind of emotion which Magnus showed. Cassiopeia doubted this had anything to do with Tye, although superficially it looked like it was all Tye's fault. There was something locked away in Magnus's vault, a wicked passion and rage for another or an action which another had taken. This rage was enough to kill, something which made the most uncommon of emotions spawn in Cassiopeia. Tye had always been one to draw out odd emotions, jealousy being a new one for her. But this on the opposite end of the spectrum, though just as intense, it was worry. Every bit of poison within her despised that emotion, it was weakness at the hands of another. She should know better than any that you could never trust another, their actions were unpredictable and if they strayed out of sight you were bound for failure. It was wretched and wicked to have tried and manifest itself in someone like herself, but she couldn't get rid of it. So she let it stay, an unwanted resident in her mind of evil, the smallest hope of normalcy. All this and the fight went on without ceasing, her thoughts approaching the topic of stopping it. But she wasn't quite at that point yet, death wasn't close enough or maybe her worry just wasn't that strong.

One moment Magnus seemed assured victory, the next his teeth had barely grazed Tye's back leg. He moved with a ridiculous speed, easily side-stepping the daring lunge. Immediately the Hunter whirled around in attempts to throw another bite in, but a paw came rushing up to meet his muzzle. His snout wrinkled  and he spat, shaking his head, still ignoring all pain. In his minds eye he would see only one way out. He had no possible way of predicting his opponents next move. He needed one final all or nothing blow. He was going to either knock Tye unconscious, if not kill him, or Magnus was going to die. "You turned her against me!" He cried. He waited scarcely a moment for the others reply before he surged forth in his greatest blow yet. His intent would be to rise up on hind legs as close to his old friend as physics would allow and swipe a massive paw to throw him to the ground before tearing out his throat. Oh the joy he would feel when the river of crimson would come flowing from the body. How he wished to tear out the heart of the one who had shattered his. To feast on the great muscle, blood dripping from his chin. Such sweet satisfaction he wanted. Oh, if only it were so simple.

Broken left foreleg, bruised right back leg, bruised ribs, fractured muzzle, various minor cuts and abrasions.

(ooc - sorry for the Star Wars Prequel reference, but it was too good an opportunity to miss.)

To see reality stripped bare to its purest essence was a momentary pleasure that Tye had the privilege of experiencing. His mind was on auto-pilot, brain registering the movements before they came and body reacting automatically. Then his foray came to a screeching halt as time reasserted itself again when Magnus’ accusing words bombarded his hearing. Ah, there was the killer instinct coming to life. Turning her against him? Bewilderment ghosted across the warrior’s blue eyes. Truly Magnus was blind with rage to discern truth from lies. He didn’t grant him any response for his mind was preoccupied with the movement of his body as he charged again, matching his pose with the second-by-second flashes that had churned through his mind like a machine one by one. Pure magic. Magnus rose to his hind legs, a paw rising to what he assumed was a slap to the face. And in that moment, Tye ducked underneath the male’s fore-leg, receiving the slap as a gnash to his already mutilated shoulder. Blood was dripping into his eyes, partially blinding him. The pain, including the one that he had experienced just then, he had grown numb to but he was sure he would lose some hearing in his torn ear even if it could be healed fully. This would be tricky, possibly fatal if he miscalculated the distance or angle. He barrelled into Magnus front first like a freight train, sending them crashing down. He aimed to bruise the back and have the double effect of stunning the wolf into finally snapping out of his insane rampage.

This phrase thoroughly confused Cassiopeia, she wondered if the relationship between these two was more complex then she had previously assumed. Her immediate reaction was to find Tye's blue hues with her chocolate ones, to see if his reaction might fight the urge to be repressed and end up playing out on his face. But the only thing she received was the slightest bit of confusion which brought Cassiopeia to threw her for a loop once again. Magnus must be imagining things the idea made the whole fight seem slightly ridiculous, did Magnus even know who he was fighting. She could see the pure fire in the hunter's eyes and it seemed to be what was evening the playing field between him and Tye, considering Tye was a well-trained Warrior. Of course she could be mistaken in that aspect, Magnus, simply because he was a hunter, did not mean he could not fight. Still, a haze had seemed to settle over the fight, making everything seem less honorable and more sinister. Experiencing discomfort, Cassiopeia decided it was time to let her worry set in and control her action. It was becoming a matter of pack business if the two could not do their callings because of the blows dealt in this fight. "Stop!" Her yell was no sniveling plead that was easily ignored, it was a command, the feminine version of Steele's voice. Standing at her full height on top of the small rise, she had become a salient ruler who could lead armies with her ever changing voice alone.

[OOC- It should go unsaid, but you guys can ignore her if you wish to]

Magnus' body was battered and bruised. His strength flagging. He wouldn't be able to hold out for much longer. Indeed his attempt had been foiled. As his massive forepaw came upon the other, Tye moved swiftly, directing the blow to his mutilated shoulder. The wound would sting but was in no way fatal. The lumbering mass came charging full tilt for the copper male, running through him. The Lead Hunter fell to his back with a harsh thud. Yet more bruising to be added to his collection. As the Warrior towered over Magnus' broken form he still gave some attempt at a fight. Wildly thrashing and snapping at anything he could see. A waste of energy and time to be true.

But a voice cried out and in his haze he saw a figure atop the hill. A white knight, and angel had come to save him. He snarled and howled. This demon did not need saving, nor did he want it. He cursed whoever the wolf was that approached and he cursed Steele for stealing his love. He cursed Tye for ruining his hunt. He cursed Chiara, but for what he could not say. He cursed his dead siblings for their weakness. He cursed his mother and his old Alpha for their self-righteous ways. He cursed them for driving him from his home. He cursed the nameless female he had been arranged to wed, for it was she who acted as a catalyst that lead to all this. He cursed every living being whom he had ever met for ever leaving a useless imprint on his mangled soul. And he cursed whatever strange being it was that created this cruel world he was doomed to live in. Everything in his mind shattered as all that consumed him was his hatred of everything.

There was no going back. When he killed that first child there had been no going back to the innocence of puphood. When he slew his comrades for weakness there was no going back to being an average warrior. When he defied his Alpha and fought his mother there was no returning to his home. When he met Chiara there was no going back to his old philandering ways. When Steele asked of his loyalty, there would be no back-pedalling. And now as he screamed his pain there would be no way of ever being just Lead Hunter Magnus again.

More pain as Magnus’ claws caught his forelegs. It may have mattered to him if his body hadn’t been used to the feeling or he hadn’t had the numbing sensation from the blood loss. His vision was coated in red but his mind was perusing the copper male’s last words until finally, it grinded to a stop as he came to a conclusion. The last piece of the puzzle clicked into place. Magnus had been granted mateship on the condition that Chiara would give Steele a litter of pups. That explained the reasons behind his last words. The theft of the deer to what Magnus had thought was rightfully his, the rage and the accusations. He had thought Tye was their Alpha who had taken everything he had and now all that was left, was the desire to rage. Tye held on, shifting slightly to put less pressure on his injured leg. He heard something in the distance that sounded slightly faint in the distance. Probably Cassiopeia as from his vantage point he could see her standing atop the hill, drawing herself up to her full height and for a moment he was reminded of Esmeralda. It was getting harder to hear. Both of them needed healers, Tye more than him perhaps and the only good that would come out of it was that he would be able to seek out Cliché’s company again. Magnus’ injuries seemed to be more of the kind that would need internal repair in the form of bones healing naturally. Tye tightened his hold on the thrashing wolf, grunting as his claws slashed at the upper half of his body and part of his sides and back legs. The movements were quick, wild. Each slash cut deep, drawing blood. The warrior took each blow unflinchingly, much like a glacier weathering a thunder-storm. The cuts were getting deeper. The scream almost burst his ear-drums-for the ear that was whole anyway. The other ear he couldn’t hear much out of.“Enough Magnus,” Tye said in a low voice, strong and clear.“If we continue this Chiara will have no mate and her pups will have no father to take care of them. They will be left to the mercy of our Alpha. Is that what you want?”  

Severed ear, mauled shoulder, various cuts, shredded foreleg, blood loss, possible loss of partial hearing in left ear, torn muzzle

Magnus had reacted to her words, quite well in fact, he was now writhing. Locked in combat with some inner demon which was now surfacing into useless action. She would have chuckled, the darkness in her overwhelmingly amused by such a sad act. But her better side kept it within, knowing it would not be well taken if Tye or Magnus heard it. Tye, that damn wolf was still in the brawl, her command didn't seem to have the same affect on him. Though, by the amount of blood loss, it was amazing that he was still standing at all. With a harsh growl, she lowered herself from her mount, descending down from her precipice. Now in the squalor of the fight, she growled again, trying to keep from being attacked out of surprise. Her footfalls were steady and careful, bringing her within feet of the combatants. She needed them to separate, now. But suddenly Tye's voice came out and not in the goading yell which it had been previously. It all made sense, Chiara, Magnus, Steele, everything, she was well informed on Steele's building harem, mainly to stay out of it. She hadn't known Chiara was one in the ranks though, nor the deal between Magnus and Steele. But with one look at Tye, she could see why he had been the victim of this mistaken identity. His dark ebony fur was as close to Steele's as any, other than the slight unkempt feel. His eyes were the main thing which set him apart, deep blues so unlike the slate grays of his counterpart. But in the crimson rage, blue and steel were not that far apart, something she personally knew. She prepared herself to launch into the battle if it progressed any further. She was also prepared to act as a crutch back to a healer's den, something her dedication to the pack demanded of her. If these wolves were mere loners she would not have those feelings for them, they would be left to die. But Erenyx needed its hunters and fighters and they of no use dead or injured. Looking at Magnus she thought he almost looked better for the crows, what could a healer do with a broken limb such as that. But of course she had no knowledge of the healing art, something she preferred to keep true. With one look at both of the males, she was ready to act. She knew as soon as the adrenaline wore off, they would both be in excruciating pain. Something she could only hope happened after she lugged their sorry asses all the way to the healer's den.

Surprisingly, Magnus' movements drew blood from the other. But it wouldn't last for long, as Tye solidified his stance over the copper male. He still tried so hard to free himself, but his strength was failing, the adrenaline leaving his system. If he was at full cognitive faculties he would be thankful the pain hadn't settled in yet. The loss of feeling had made him reckless and stupid, his carelessness had resulted in numerous injuries that, if not treated properly, he would certainly die of. The broken leg would be the most troublesome. If it didn't set correctly and heal properly he would never hunt again. He would be made an Omega and forced to scavenge off the worst of the kill pile. That was if he were allowed to eat from the kill pile. It was likely Steele could punish him for his stupidity and insolence by banning him from touching the packs kills. Or he might even choose to prevent him from seeking out any healers assistance, sentencing him to the long and painful death of his wounds. But if he was merciful, he would take the males life with a swift blow.

Magnus considered his options, each more grim than the last. He decided he would request Steele kill him and remove his worthless life from this earth. Or he would have if it hadn't been for what Tye said next. Chiara. The females image swam before his eyes. Her dark form looking regal and pristine as ever. Her flickering orbs if flame danced with their natural light of passion. A Warriors fire. And he remembered why he needed to stay alive. To protect her. To love her. To care for her brood with Steele. He couldn't hurt her. He had promised he would never leave her, that he wouldn't die on her. He had to keep that promise. If there was only one oath he held to in his life, it would be this. He would not hurt her in this way, it would be too cruel. He didn't believe she would trie to follow him to the grave. What Tye said was true. If Magnus departed, she would remain here, with the Alpha. She was always true to her word.

His body sagged beneath the other, slowly admitting defeat. In a hoarse,pained voice, he croaked. "She was never supposed to have to go through that. Not-not again. I was supposed to protect her and I failed. And now-now I have to tell her what is asked of her, what she must do if she wishes us to be together. I would not blame her if she refused, no matter what it meant for my life. Not if it meant she could be happy and strong." His head fell back into the dirt, eyes trailing to the hillside to see his white knight travelling towards them. She stopped mere feet from their position. Unsure it seemed. He heaved a heavy sigh and caught he dark eyes in his own and nodded quick approval. There was no way he could get back to to the pack clearing on his own, and Tye was in no shape to support another body beside his own. What a pair those two were. Two friends, brothers even, brought to blows over another males scheming and and a serious misunderstanding.