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And how fast and hot the gold does run, To keep the evil wolves away? Or make it a bloody revenge day? A siren sounds. Drum beats of hooves and calls sounds throughout the valley. Golden harks flick back. What would dare attack the Basin? Could it be one of the herds were finally revealing their plot to destroy the hated Gilded Blade, his lady? A grin rose with a snicker. Moving from where he had been enjoying the shade above the lake, Thranduil walked down the stone path towards the rising call. The rocks grew into tall boulders where the mountains had shaken them down, but paths cut and crisscrossed through them. The golden son, now fully aware of these, moved through quickly. Heart beat fast, blood pounded, eyes eager to see what trouble rumbled at the gates of the Basin. There was a few feelings absent though, no heartbreak for his herd. No fear of falling herdmates. Not even a sign of worry. Instead he near foolishly, gleeful for some action perhaps, shows his true face. Letting a wicked grin lift his features and feel his body with eagerness. The stones feel away to the open valley. Stopping, the gold stood away from the open, so as not to be seen by the others. This show would be too wonderful to miss, but if all went awry and the Basin won, best not be seen as unaiding the victory. What he came upon did not disappoint. Chaos was in every direction. Beastly grin grew in his shadow hiding spot. Wolves were pressing down on a group of three, while another and their pet cornered them with flames. It wasn’t an invasion or attacking small party, but he would take wolves over a dull day anyway. Why did the wolves keep pressing their vantage though? Small figures dash across the plains before him to the rock walls and caves. Foals. They wanted the foals. Between the fighting and the cave of foals the gold congratulated him on his good seat. Brows raised with each lighted fire, like fireworks he admired them with wonder. That winged filly was a true curiosity. He had to give the girl credit for being brave enough to dare into the Basin with the two wings. The golden son was so enwrapped in watching and noticing new faces and noting the curious fire magic of the winged filly to notice a very small detail. Before being surrounded, two of the pack had slipped off unnoticed. Having seen and smelled the foals they sought to round out the distracted adults and make for the cave where they had seen a mother and foal dart. Climbing up the sides of the hills to avoid detection, but kept quick, knowing their comrades being in jeopardy with every second. After they took care of a foal they would turn back to aid their young brothers and sisters. Hunger pushing them they could smell their pray and began to turn back down the hill into a cluster of large boulders. Their noses told them they were oh so close. It also told them a fire was about. Panic rose, but desperation was higher. Following the slender path they found themselves almost there when they ran into him. Another equine stood tall, but turned, not facing them. A whine slipped near silently from on as they thought of how close they were. Through their own communication a plan formed. They only needed to get around him, not take him down. One slowly slinked up to grab the creature aside while the other readied to run. The fired burned brighter and tension was growing. Magic was abound in the air and flare for honor and family just as thick. The gold perhaps did not truly wish many death…but as said, there was little connection to those who stood before the wolves, especially the blue dipped blade. So, if some were to pass, he’d morn them but, only for a moment. There comes the black prince racing from the hills down and into the cave of safety. The devil’s son didn’t seem to share his father’s darker moods yet. Much to the – HOLY MOTHER OF COCONUTS! Knives cut through the gold’s back left leg, and he let out a scream. Not of total fear, but of rage, deep, furious, raw, and deadly. Everything begins to move in slow motion. Spinning he saw a small grey figure gripping is hind, pulling. Flesh tore. SHIT! Ragged knives digging deeper. A flash of grey. In a swarm of shock the gold sees a second small figure dash through the opening made when he spun. In a moment, the gold’s mind switches. He who usually has control of his mind, can manipulate it and twist it, has a dark secret. A way to unhinge all that fine work. Rage. The wolves had decided to help him skip the long slow build up though. Turning that deadly gaze back to his hind and the wolf there in less than a second he’s in action. Other hind reaches out in hot comet barrels hoof towards the small body. Whether it hit or simply scared the dog is unknown, but he’s let go. Golden body was ready and surges, adrenaline blinding him to the blood running on that clean gold coat. Surging forward in a blind fury he see the small figure making for the cave. Slowing to try and avoid the fires now beginning to roll, but taking heart in seeing the black coat slip into the cave. The gold takes advantage. Cloven hooves race forward, feeling the heat of the trail of fire, but rounds the wolf to back so the creature’s back is to the small flame wall. Sliding the golden seeks to corner to the wolf beast. Teeth bared, neck low, harks buried. He takes a step towards the creature, and that’s when he feels the sickening nerves wringle and twist in his gut. Breath catches. A rush a pain swells, it is not overwhelming, but having not felt the sting of air to flesh in years it is made worse. Picking it back up tenderly, the burning gold exhales in a snort and spits, “I’ll have your hid for that.” It doesn’t matter which of the two is there, or if both face him, he cares no. Maddening revenge boils through him. Head rose but twisted over and faced down, then it slashes. Curved blades, sharpened in anticipation of spars slash down in diagonal, like a knife blade, where the low canine’s body. The golden, cursing, that which lay hopefully under his horns, let them bleed. The gold did not realize he stood between the foal cave and the wolf. Though the rage and revenge is personal, perhaps to unknowing eyes of his previous jollies it will appear he does nothing but protect the foals. If he was his usual self he might congratulate himself on that fact, but the rage was complete. For such a low creatures as these to sneak upon him with such venom he can find no sanity. We know it was his fault for allowing himself to let go and be absorbed in watching, but if you value your life I wouldn’t tell him that. Not right now anyway. "Speech" Tag;; OOC;; Permission given by Chan (the NPC) to powerplay two of the wolves in this way as long as standard sparing rules (no strike certain) applied. NOTE TO NPC:: When he slashes down left it vague, didn't know where each wolf should be depending on damage. SUMMARY;; Thranduil sneaks to hiding spot between boulders just outside Zikar's cave when he is attacked from behind by two wolves trying to slip by. One bites his hind leg the other runs past. Thranduil in rage, howls out, attempts to kick the one who bit him, then corners the other against the line of flames Aithniel created. Blocking the way to the cave, then slashes his horns down upon the wolf/wolves. |
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