The Weight of the World [OPEN]

[~Nighthunter~]

[atrb=border,0,true][cs=3][bg=615b5b] Driven by a focus not my own, fueled by bloodlust that was never asked for... _____________________ He could scent her unease with this fight, and Victor was living off its promise. He would attack without hesitation, without mercy, she still had morals. He sneered as his fangs hit home and latched onto the throat of Emma. He could feel the pulse of her main artery just below where he had bitten. One swimp and a kill, little lower, gnaw again and kill.... perhaps I'll withold instead, make her suffer. To drag out the pain would be... excruciating, and exciting This was thought as he pulled free a rather decent sized chunk of flesh from her neck. Miniacle and even more intent, he now had a game plan. He would kill her slowly, he had just decided that. By her scent she was sickly, and he wanted to use that to his advantage. He felt no pity towards himself for not attacking a more fearsome foe, one that was fit to take on his strength. Well he wasn't, he called it a "one up" a stroke of considerable luck convieniently added to his playing field. Just as he was leaving her from his attack, he felt her sink her own fangs into his thigh. Quicly he dug his claws into the ground and ducked bracing himself against the ground as much as possible. He felt her canines force trying to lift and throw him from his position. He however did not give way, and ignored the pain his his thighs as best he could. He turned his head and gave her a ferel growl and glared at her with furious eyes. He had been hurt much worse before, so he wasn't any worse off compared to other battles, but she was being considerably more annoying now. Not caring if she tore out some flesh, he rocked his rump back and forth with a large ammount of force trying to push her off. With her previous wound , he thought her ability to hold on might be endangered, however he had no idea what her strengths were. _____________________ 418: words.

[/b][/blockquote]

[/color][/size][/td][/tr][/table][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[emmaspencer]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,350,true]

[atrb=background,http://i16.photobucket.com/albums/b9/AshleesAlterEgo/Emmamiddle.jpg] Though Emma’s body was a little worn down, she had plenty of fight left in her. She was headstrong and determined and those two qualities often got her exactly where she needed to go. But the male it seemed, was just as stubborn as she. And he had his physical strength to back him up. But Emma wasn’t spent yet, not even close. Though she was nursing a wound on the back of her neck, it wasn’t life threatening, and it wasn’t agonizing. She would contend with it later, because now, her attention was on defeating the male and nothing else. For a moment, luck was on the alpha’s side as she felt her fangs sink into the thick muscle that made up the male’s thigh. She bit into his upper leg as hard as she could and attempted to drag him backward, intending to knock his earth off its axis. But he regained his composure quickly and began rocking back and fourth, trying to loosen Emma’s grip on his limb. But the female stood fast and made a gallant effort to keep a tight grip on his back leg. Eventually she realized she wasn’t going to make much progress if she remained where she was, so she made the quick decision to release him. She did it with a purpose however, and waited until the male moved in an upward motion. She hoped that the moment he made that movement, her sharp white incisors would slice through the male’s leg, tearing through the muscle on not only his upper thigh, but his lower leg as well. She knew that the hind legs held a significant amount of physical strength and that if she were able to incapacitate them just a little bit, she would potentially gain the upper hand. She wasn’t sure her tactic would work however, and could only stand by and hope that it had. With her jaws parted, she threw herself back, and now stood approximately seven feet from where the male was positioned. She had no intention of giving him much time to compose himself or form a plan and quickly bounded forward, once again aiming for his neck. Her fangs gnashed at the side of his head, searching for a piece of flesh to latch on to. It seemed that their battle would be a fight to the death, and Emma had no intention of losing. She realized the battle may wear on for some time, and she hoped she had enough energy to last. Normally fights between wolves didn’t result in a death, but Emma was fighting with a creature that wasn’t sane or rational. Even if she was not, he was out for blood and would stop at nothing until he got it. Initially, the alpha thought she would duke it with the male until he relented, but things hadn’t gone according to plan. He had no intention of letting her win and as it were, the two would be hashing it out for some time. And Emma (who was already a little cranky to begin with) was growing increasingly annoyed with the fact that this male was putting up such a stink over nothing. How was it that she had been so unlucky to stumble upon the nuttiest creature in the area? If she had just gone somewhere else or had come a little earlier or later she would have avoided this nonsense entirely. But here she was: sore, not feeling well, and fighting with the Sybil of wolves. The female didn’t like confrontation and saw no sense in engaging in physical battles unless there was a real logical reason for it. But her encounter with the male hadn’t been logical to begin with. Reasoning with him would be akin to reasoning with a schizophrenic, it just wasn’t going to work. There was no reasoning with insanity.

[/size][/color][/td][/tr]
[tr][td]

[/td][/tr][/table][/center]