DotW RP: The Kidnap (Blood Strings) III

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As the reddish female launched herself forward in an attempt to avoid him, Jerikoh released a snarl of warning. Don't make this more difficult than it needs to be, Seven. Despite his internal plea, he knew better than to hope for an easy defeat. The she-wolf was a strong and proud member of Aryn--she would not let an enemy harm one of her own without putting up a fight.

So it was a fight she would get.

For a brief moment, he caught a glimpse of Heel approaching them. Relief washed over him, knowing that the two of them would have no trouble dealing with the fleet-footed she-wolf. But the Warlord soon turned his attention on Adrian, who was charging towards the scene. Jerikoh would have to take care of Arynian himself.

The Baron knew Seven was faster than him, and should he let her rocket past him, he would have no hope of catching her. He had to act quickly and subdue her before she got out of his reach.

As she streaked past, he managed to swipe her hind legs with his muzzle, nearly flipping her with his strength in an attempt to throw her off balance. When she tumbled to the ground, the Scythe fell upon her. He placed a heavy paw on her side to try and hold her down long enough for Seraph to escape with their precious cargo.

“Stay.” He growled, voice tense.

The world tipped on it’s axis, and the female let out a loud yelp as her paws were swept from underneath her. Falling forwards, she winced as her head collided painfully with the ground. But before she could regain her bearings, a stiff paw pressed down against her side, pinning her to the earth. Stay.

The pain of betrayal tore far harder into the female’s chest than any physical ailment. But alas, the deed had been done, and there was nothing she could do to convince the black male otherwise. Writhing underneath Jerikoh’s iron grip, Seven growled and snapped in protest. “How dare you! We invited you into our home. Treated you like one of our own, and this is how you repay us? By attacking an innocent child?” Rage laced every word as the huntress bucked, twisting her jaws and aiming for the Vektreni’s underside. “You cowards!!” No, no no!!

“Adrian!” She wailed, praying to the One that the burly Vicar had seen the commotion. 

His expression remained cold, frozen in space as if it were made of stone. His crimson gaze was the only trace of life that remained present. His eyes glistened with his unease--guilt, shame, frustration. He knew he had remained loyal. In his betrayal there was an underlying drive of loyalty and commitment to his pack. Adrian had interfered in Vektren’s affairs, and thus had to be punished. Jerikoh could not question the truth in that. The Arynian needed to be punished. His child would be the appropriate punishment.

While he might appear to be the villain in her story, he was the hero in Vektren’s. That was his solace. That was his truth.

“You know nothing.” Jerikoh muttered in reply, expression stoic and devoid of emotion. He spoke matter-of-factly as if it were the only truth in the whole world. “This has nothing to do with you, or your pack, so stay out of it.” He went on in a hushed voice. He did not want to use his fangs against her... This was not her fight, she was merely caught in the crossfire.

He winced as she struck him with her panicked blows. The brute felt her teeth sink into his soft underbelly and he growled at the sharp pain. The Baron tried to maintain his hold on her despite the pain, but his grasp was significantly loosened and he was more concerned with breaking free of her jaws.

        
“Our grievance is with Adrian, not the rest of you.” He snarled as he aimed a kick towards the she-wolf in hopes of dislodging her. “Surrender and let us do our duty.”

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Their IMPACT drove into him the biggest drumbeat of all, trembling beneath all dancing paws as the bison thundered away from them as a single body. But the Vektren Warlord had not thrown himself against brutal strength without intent, without CONSCIOUSNESS.

 

He was ready to COIL his head away from the violent WARNING SNAP of Arynian teeth, matching Adrian’s look of VEHEMENT PROMISE with his own CRUEL AMUSEMENT; lips curled, teeth bared, and brilliant CHEER brimming his greenish eyes. How grateful he was to Xibalten that he would see the torment of their enemy, helpless and with muscles fallen to futile weakness in his failure. Of course, their mission was only JUST ending; still it could be spoiled would Adrian refuse to be cowed as easily as the she-wolf SEVEN he could hear crying for her packmate’s alarm.

 

“She’s GONE, Adrian,” He offered in low, SMOOTH tones, a strange SOFTNESS compared to every other soft angle all around them. “Stolen right out from under you—”

 

Even these words felt too RUSHED (he would like to SLOW this moment of triumph as Seraph gained more and more ground away with every heartbeat) as Adrian charged. Without hesitation Heel rose up to meet the full brunt of the heavier wolf and they CRASHED again, but at least this time the power came from both sides and HALTED in the middle. A fair fight could not be won against Adrian in strength, at least not in the long run; Heel’s rear paws remained aground and he twisted his body against that of his opponent with a bursting snarl, fighting to force him PAINFULLY down upon that already weakened foreleg. As much as he would love to remain and drill the very prominent FAILURE into Adrian’s skull, all they truly needed was a head start.

“Merrill belongs to Her now--”

Adrian was barely properly conscious when they clashed midway, his mind set to Merrill and only on her. No time to waste. No time to waste. He wanted release. To be free of this demonic scum and to reach to his Lilly quickly. The brute twisted in desperation to fuel the power of his limbs, but tangled to his adversary, there was little he could actually do, specially when Heel begun to try forcing him down to his strained leg. He felt it prickling, announcing the inevitable snap, failure of strength. Grief and panic gripped tighter and stronger to his heart.

 

Until the heathen whispered about Her. It could have been a missed information, an empty threat, but the dark vicar knew better. Way better. This was not just an empty assault, devoid of purpose and objective. No.

 

This attack was against him.

 

Pieces fell in place and connected on a blurry second of thought, his head functioning so quickly it may as well have caused him a headache. They were all Vektreni. This was Hekate’s doing! And regardless of the fault, his fault, in all this, Adrian’s sense of morality snapped. While bringing him clearance, it also brought him rage. Unmatched, rage.

 

Beast and collected wolf disconnected and the Vicar felt his utmost deep instincts being unleashed at once, granting him a strength he’d never consider to possess while sane. Forcing the strained leg back, fury framing the roar of his outburst, as the dark male shoved his opponent off with a strong thrust, falling to his four back again. There was not a second he considered to confront Heel again, instead turning to the remnants of uncontrolled bison that still rushed by. In his stupor, Adrian barely saw them. And this had been his mistake.

 

At first there was a calf, small but no less match to his size and bulk. The beast stomped by, terrified, and took him off balance completely. Adrian stumbled forward, feeling the entire muscles of his side bursting in pain, tingling, left leg finally almost unusable. In his desperate resolve, the dark vicar also did not foresaw the stampeding mother right behind its child, and this time, he was completely helpless at the size and strength of the creature, hooves stomping by his body and crushing bones and muscles beneath, and he finally fell.

 

Adrian observed the forest through narrowed eyes as he slipped to unconsciousness, the pain that waved throughout his entire body not a match to the one who took control of his heart. With the thunder of hooves around diminishing but still trembling the earth as his lullaby for the day, the Vicar passed out with a single thought within his mind and tears rolling down his protuberant cheekbones.

Merrill. My fault.

Seven stopped her writhing and glared dangerously at the dark wraith. Rage burned in her veins. How dare he! Nothing to do with her pack? It had everything to do with it! They were stealing one of them. Ripping her from her family. The male's arrogance disgusted her almost as much as it terrified her. Satisfaction flooded her face as the male winced, and for the briefest of moments, his grip on her weakened. "Never" she roared. A sharp yelp escaped her throat as the Vektreni aimed a hefty kick against her ribs, but Seven took her chance.

With a great surge of energy, the huntress twisted sideways vigorously. Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, she managed to break away. Although every instinct screamed at her to flee after Seraph and Merrill, the female's had vanished from view long ago, and a heavy realization settled. Merrill is gone.

Adrian lay on the ground a short distance away, unmoving. As did Eden. Tragedy had stuck too quickly, and now there was nothing they could do. Distress was clear in every movement as the female streaked away from her capturer, paws taking her to Eden's side. Her friend lay, heavy breathes wracking her chest. A disruption in the fur on her head explained all. She must have caught the brunt of the herd. Casting a final glance at the place where the Vetkreni had disappeared, Seven felt soft tears sting her eyes. No....

Crouching down, the Arynian pressed her pelt against Eden's shoulder, awaiting for the female to regain her bearings. But hopelessness weighed down every limb. They had failed.

Like a weasel, the female slithered out his grasp and his kick struck the hard earth instead. The Scythe growled, snapping his jaws as she danced away from his reach. He pelted after her, anticipating the red wolf to go after Seraph… but she hesitated and turned to her fallen comrades instead. The Baron ceased his pursuit and turned away from the scene. His work was done.

 

Falling into step with the Warlord, Jerikoh galloped across the field and into the forest beyond. He paused for a brief moment, casting one last glance at the Arynians, who were already small specks against the tall grass.

 

I’m sorry.

 

Without a word, the Vektreni disappeared into the undergrowth, dark pelt enveloped by the shadows.

It was time to return home.