Closed Messing With The Feline Gets You Scratched By The Sword

Reven attempts to rescue a stranger from traffickers but gets nabbed herself. This is where she meets her knight in shining armor, Alevadra.

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Built into the cliffs overlooking the Suvan Sea, Riverfall resides on the edge of grasslands of Cyphrus where the Bluevein River plunges off the plain and cascades down to the inland sea below. Home of the Akalak, Riverfall is a self-supporting city populated by devoted warriors. [Riverfall Codex]

Messing With The Feline Gets You Scratched By The Sword

Postby Reven Heath on March 7th, 2014, 2:26 am

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Day 28th of Spring, 514 A.V

It had been nearly two weeks since a bond was established between Reven and Vanator. Words could not express how different she felt after the event and knew she was not the only one experiencing the emotional changes. Bonding was completely different then what she'd thought and praised Syna that it was not as she expected. The dark abyss she'd thought consumed her heart was ripped away and replaced with something much lighter, warmer, and complete. The Kelvic felt whole and every waking moment she spent with the Drykas was one she cherished, thanking him silently for the feelings he caused.

Her routine had changed as well. Early, at the first light of morning, she would rouse awake to begin her chores for the day. Normally the woman was caught in bed till the mid-morning hours but, strangely enough, she was stirring before then. Sometimes, if she woke soon enough, Reven would silently watch her bondmate sleep. It was something that brought her comfort, knowing he was within reach, knowing that he was safe, knowing that he was there...

A lot had changed in her personality as well. Reven was becoming vocal about her thoughts, however, gave time to consider them. She was turning her appearance around, concerning herself with how she looked and made sure to dressed better than how she presented herself in the past. Above all of this, the Kelvic found new confidence and strength in her demeanor and showed it proudly. Being with an Ankal, elegance and etiquette was expected of her and Reven wanted to show she could handle it. Not because she didn't want to disappoint Vanator or Kavala, even though this concern weighed on her mind at times, but she hoped that it would demonstrate to the Ankal she could be more than a bond mate and friend to him.

This morning, Reven was out of the fur covered bed and dressed in warm, fur-lined boots, dark brown, soft leather pants, and a leather, button up jacket she had made with the help of her Akalak friend, Karlak. It was also fur-lined and clung snugly to her form, looking every bit like the huntress she was. This time, she kept her hair down and brushed it so the tresses framed pleasantly around her face. With some hesitation, she decided to paint her eyelids with a bit of dark brown eyeshadow, wanting her predator-hazel eyes to pop out. Not caring to hide what she was any longer, Reven didn't mind the beauty fix and soon, was making her way up from the Within and out onto the Kabrin Road.

Syna's light was slowly making its way over the horizon when the Kevlic began her journey to Riverfall. Normally the walk was quiet and uneventful with few concerns to be met but today was an exception. Not even a bell had past when Reven saw the flailing limbs of a fight as it appeared three men were brawling out their troubles. The Kelvic wanted to ignore the scene but felt the need to intervene with intent on stopping the men from blooding each other up. Cautiously, she approached, however, peering closely at the sight of the three, the Lioness noticed the two large men were trying to beat down and tie up the other, smaller man. The young man was thrashing with an angry yet fearful expression, one Reven knew all too well. She had glanced upon that same expression before shredding her prey. Was this happening here?

It appeared the young man noticed her first and, with rope tied around his mouth, tried to call out to her, or warn her. Reven couldn't figure out which but she was sure this situation would not end well... Feeling for her knife, the Lioness cursed inwardly upon realizing she didn't have it. Unarmed and out on the road? How stupid could she be! Hazel eyes inspected both men, their frame and their arms size, and had the instinct to back off. Reven was out numbered, there was no way she could help the poor fellow!

'I'm going to regret this. I know I'm going to petching regret this...'

The two larger men were hoisting the smaller one onto his feet, tying his hands and pushing him forward, toward the grasslands. What were they doing? Were they going to kill the man? "Hey!" Reven called out, squaring her shoulders as three sets of eyes turn toward her. "What are you doing with that man?"

An arrogant grin settle on the features of the taller man, his hair black and skin tanned but his eyes where crystal blue and reflected a kind of evil that made Reven's stomach drop. "Wot do we 'ave 'ere, a li'l lass come t' save tha day? Hahah! Would yah 'ave a look at tha', Bren!" The second man held onto the third and glared with hateful eyes toward the first. Curious of such an expression, Reven tilted her head and furrowed her brow.

"Did you not hear the common coming from my mouth? What are you doing with that man? Doesn't look like you're having a friendly get together."

"C'mon Fyn, we got 'em. Let's just go..." Bren reasoned. The way he spoke was different from the other gentleman's accent, he looked thinner and the clothes he wore were nearly rags. Who were these men? "Not until we figger out whut t'do about 'er. I say we bring 'er back with 'em." Fyn took a step closer.

"Move and I promise you..." The woman breathed, her voice steady. "... you will regret you did..."

His smile widened as his foot fell closer to her, the intent to take her flashing in his eyes. Deep down, the Kelvic was nervous. Some time had past since she had a confrontation with another person and scrambled to recall the lessons Mos'rila taught her so long ago. Preparing her stance quickly, the man was upon her in a matter of moments and stretched his arm out to grab her by the hair. Grounding herself, Reven brought her left hand up to grasp his wrist, leaning forward into him, before shifting herself so that his momentum would help her lift him off the ground and lay him on his back. Struggling slightly, due to his weight, the woman yanked him off his feet with a loud yell and slammed him into the solid earth. Reven bared her teeth at him, moving in to strangle him while she could.

Ticks later, the Kelvic regretted her choice of action for her arms were suddenly pinned behind her back and she was lifted off man painfully. "Get off your back you petching fool!" The man, Bren, swore.

"Eerh! Let me go!" Reven thrash against the man, her heart beating wildly in her chest as fear ran like cold ice through her veins. She couldn't give up, not yet— Reven couldn't let them take her. Once her attacker stood, he grumbled out swears of all sorts, in many languages Reven couldn't understand before promptly raising his hand and bringing it across her face in a hard slap. Effectively busting her lower lip open, Reven sucked up the blood and spat it back into Fyn's face. Enraged at this point, the Kelvic knew if she was released from the lock she was in, her claws and her teeth would tear the two men apart. Fyn appeared surprised that she continued to defy him even after being caught. This surprise turned irate as he came at her again.

She was prepared...

"Oh, would you knock it off!" Bren exclaimed but it was too late. Fyn's hand dug itself into her auburn tresses while the bottom of her boots found the center of his chest. With all the might she could muster, the Kelvic shoved both men back with her legs; one flying forward, onto the ground , and the other stumbling back before landing on his arse. Some of her hair had been ripped from her head but she ignored the pain. Reven shimmied free of the hold Bren had on her and scrambled over to the man that was tied up.

"You!" She glared down at him with wild, feral eyes as she yanked at the hemp around his mouth and untangled the rope around his feet. "Get out of—!" Reven was yanked back by her boot. Turning furious hazel eyes on Bren as he tried to tug her away, she pulled her leg back and planted it firmly in his face. Returning to the man, she was able to untie him from the bindings. "Go! Run! Get out of here!" Reven yelled at him, watching him scramble away with fearful eyes. He was on his feet after a tick, running as fast as he could. "Keep running! Find—" Someone had tackled her, or sat on her. All the Lioness knew was that the breath in her lungs suddenly disappeared and she was eating dirt.

"That petching WENCH!" One of them hollered. "That stupid, petching WENCH! I'LL KILL 'ER"

A low growl set in her throat as Reven slowly regained her ability to breathe. Bren had shoved her onto the ground and was starting to bind her wrist behind her back with rope. Her heart was pounding. 'No...'

"Calm down you pompous moron. Can't you tell what she is?" Bren sighed and shook his head, blood running down his nose. "She's worth more to us than that little shyke. C'mon, help me get her feet."

"No!" Reven kicked. "Urrgh! Two on one?! You call that a fair fight!" Came her hiss. "Embarrassed to have a woman kick the shyke out of you both! Let me up!" Her heart was pounding, fear bleeding into the bond as Reven reached out to her bondmate. She didn't know how he could help her or if he could find her, but in that moment, all she could think about was him.
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Last edited by Reven Heath on March 24th, 2014, 8:04 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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Messing With The Feline Gets You Scratched By The Sword

Postby Alevadra Druva on March 24th, 2014, 1:58 pm

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OOCSorry for the UNBELIEVABLE delay. Here's a post! Enjoy! I should have a lot more time this week to write! :) Also, I cannot express how much I loved your post!

Riverfall and the Kabrin road had proven to be a pleasant change of pace. The people, sights, day-to-day goings-ons were a refreshing change. Alevadra had grown used to the monotonous work within Syliras, the most exciting thing she ever did was a patrol on the road outside of Syliras. The post by Riverfall allowed her to experience new things and push her knowledge and abilities as a knight of the order.

There were doubts, of course, occasionally wondering if she was even doing her job the way it was supposed to be done. Patrol the road, assist those upon it as needed. While it sounded easy enough on paper and upon first hearing—there were an immeasurable number of apparently extraneous factors. These factors were anything but irrelevant, she’d become a wearer of hats, going from a brawl-interrupter to a direction-giver and everything in-between. It made sense to Ale why the job was said to be “watching the road” because if one were to write down all the things that could be encountered while watching the road—well, they would still be writing to this very day.

The knight had awoken before Syna’s rays where even able to grace the cabin’s roof. Leth still peered down upon Riverfall as the light of the moon was all that was about; however, even that light was beginning to fade as it dipped lower in the anticipation of Syna. Ale dressed, braiding her purple and blue hair and pinning it up against her skull. Her hair had grown since winter, falling past her shoulders when it was let down—though that was not often. Her clothes were nothing special, a heavy linen tunic with the Druva glassbeak upon the breast, leather pants and her soft-soled boots.

It was still early in spring, but the weather was warming and Ale feared rain would be on the agenda for the day. The knight begrudgingly began the task to getting ready for the day, inspecting her full plate while munching on an apple before heading out to the small stable where a horse waited for her. The horse she’d been riding was not Lyris—the horse she knew best and who knew her best—it was another horse by the name of “Wynn”. He was a massive stallion, the short knight coming up to his shoulder as she stood beside it.

“Morning, Wynn.” The door creaked as she stepped into the building, taking a final bite of her apple before offering him the remain bit of fruit and core. The stallion roused from his slumber once the scent of the sweet fruit was upon him, perking his ears forward as brown eyes looked to the Druva. A snort of satisfaction blew stray strands from Ale’s face as he took the apple between massive teeth. “We’ve got an early start today, boy, I hope you’re ready,” He simply munched while Ale put on the riding blanket and saddle. The bridle would be saved for last—she knew how much Wynn disliked it.

The light of morning was beginning to seep in through long golden streams, lighting the ground with spots and Syna’s rays poured through the branches of the trees around them. “Alright, Wynn, armor then we’ll be off,” The woman stated, checking the buckles and clasps and dishing out Wynn’s breakfast before patting his snout and returning to the cabin.

Putting on full plate by oneself was quite the task, but Ale had gotten it down and was able to get on the whole suit in about 8 chimes—of course, getting it so it was comfortable and ready for a whole day of wear took closer to 10. The metal clicked as she strapped it upon her, slowly becoming androgynous under the metal plating. The helmet was always set aside, it would be worn when it was needed, no point in restricting her line of sight with the metal.

There was a distinct sound made by someone in armor, a sound that Alevadra adored it was a clinking that she compared to music—at least to her ears that was how she saw it. The knight plucked her shield, sword, quiver and arrows from the lonely table in the cabin and trekked out into the growing morning light.

Wynn was quickly loaded up with the necessities—some food, basic medical supplies (It seemed almost everyone else she’d encountered knew how to use them better than she did), water and her weapons. The shield was hooked onto the saddle, her sword upon her waist and bow horizontally upon Wynn’s side with the saddle. The helm was shoved into a saddle bag, the satchel left open for quick retrieval if the need were to arise.

The early mornings had been uneventful for the past two days—and the knight she’d relieved informed her that that was often the case. So, Ale was expecting a quiet morning of listening to birds awakening, a few souls wandering out onto the road for their daily travels and nothing really of note. Of course, it seemed whenever Ale was in the mix of something, things rarely went as planned. Ale had begun traveling north toward Riverfall—as most activity happened to be in that direction in the early hours—when a spot upon the horizon caught her attention. It was a figure, running towards her and waving their arms rather franticly.

Ale didn’t need to be a knight to tell that whoever the figure was, they were in need of assistance of some sort. “Oh, it’s going to be a busy morning, Wynn, hope you’re awake.” Her heels nudged into the horse as she made a click with her tongue urging the massive beast forward. The figure grew, and yet, shrunk until Ale was beside the thin, ragged looking man. He was out of breath, hands upon his knees as he attempted to regain his fortitude. “What’s going on? Are you alright?” Ale began to dismount but the man pressed his sweaty palms upon the metal plate over her thigh and pushed her back on. “They’re gunna take ‘er!” He said, motioning ahead on the road in the direction she’d been heading. “Who? Where?” Her demeanor grew cold and serious, brown eyes suddenly hard and intent upon the worn thin face below her.

The man shook his head and motioned. “They’re tyin’ ‘er up! They’re gunna take ‘er into the grasslands! ‘N sell ‘er, I thinks! You gotta hurry!” He began to push at her leg futilely, as if pushing on her would make the brick of a horse she sat upon move. Her jaw became tight as she looked down at him. “Are they armed? How many” The man shrugged. “ ‘unno! Two! ‘N the lady! Go!” The Druva cursed under her breath, pulling her shield from its hook. “Stay here.” She yelled, nudging Wynn with considerable force and making an odd sound to encourage the horse’s movement.

The creature galloped, Ale guiding him with her knees while she adjusted her shield onto her arm, watching the road for the duo of assailants. The helmet was procured from the open satchel and put upon her head as the figures came into view once Ale crested a low hill. It was two large men, and a woman they were tying up. Slavers? Likely. Ale had no forgiveness for that lot, they were scum upon the land and she was being to remove the filth.

The two men noticed the knight upon the horse, her long sword pulled from the scabbard, catching the golden morning rays upon the sharpened steel. “HALT!” The woman roared from behind the metal that wrapped around her skull. The two men looked at her with surprise, one pulling a small dagger from his waist and pointing it at the knight as she rode closer. Ale was unable to hear the two argue, but it seemed one wanted to fight, but the other wanted to cut their losses. It was no matter to Ale—at least in the moment.

Her boot slipped from the stirrup as she rode close enough to swing her leg over and land on the ground a few large paces from the trio. “Drop the blade, or I will spill your blood without hesitation.” There was a growl in her voice as the shield was raised at her side, her sword upright and ready to lash out upon the men. Her heart was pounding, she could feel it in her toes and behind her eyes. A glance was given to the woman who was tied, brown eyes peering through the thin slit in the metal helm. “What’s it going to be?” Her eyes snapped back to the men, the two eyeing each other as well as Ale.

“Bren,” One man spoke to another—one that was bleeding from his nose. “The mizas we’d get from her,” The bleeding one jerked his head back towards the woman wrapped in leather and fur. “Is worth killing a knight over,” Ale actually laughed at his words, finding the thought more than entertaining. “So that’s your choice? You want to die today? Upon my blade you wish your death?” The man that was hesitating visibly gulped, looking nervously to Bren. [i] “You’ll die upon mine, wench!”[/color] The man moved toward Ale suddenly, the other man having to make a quick decision, looking at the woman who was bound about the wrists for a moment before turning and pulling a blade of his own—a longer one with a wicked looking blade.

Bren was the first to reach Ale, the weight of him was a force Ale would struggle with, his body slamming into her shield as she blocked him from knocking her off her feet, instead pushing her back a few paces, her boots digging into the rough gravel of the road. Bren was clearly surprised that his force didn’t knock little Ale from her feet, though her bent knees and wide stance had saved her it had only just barely done so. The knight was off balance as still recovering as the man made a jab at her trying to get the blade to slip between the plates and find a weak point.

The other was upon them then, Ale lashing out with the hilt of her long sword, smashing both her gauntlet and hilt into Bren’s cheek. “THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE!” She yelled between smashing Bren’s cheek and the other mans attack. Bren toppled over, grasping his face for a moment. The other man was a little thinner, but still just as muscular. His wicked, twisted blade slipped between the plates of Ale’s armor and the woman felt the sharp pain of a cut upon her side as warmth began to spill down her side. Brown eyes locked upon the man, becoming intense as Ale twisted her body, forcing the plates of metal that the blade had slipped through to close tight upon one another. A quick jolt forward and a loud snapping could be heard as the blade broke in her armor, leaving nothing more than a sharp stub of metal.

Ale’s rage was focused now, the pain dulled to the back of her mind. There was no point in fixating on the injury, regardless of how bad it was, there was nothing she could do about it in the moment—not until the threats were dealt with. Her shield came up, the edge slamming into the mans jaw, blood spewing froth from his mouth as a plated knee came up into his groin, the once-dagger falling from his fingers as his body began to curl in upon itself. The blade moved through the air, slicing silently until it impacted the mans side. The sound of blood falling was soon accompanied by a cry and thud of his form hitting the ground.

“I give up! I give up! Don’t kill me!” Bren shouted, tossing away his dagger and looking to Ale. Half of his face was so swollen it looked almost comical. The other man was still and upon the ground, eyes open and lifeless to the sky. “His blood is on your hands just as much as it is on mine.” She growled, sheathing her sword before tugging off her helmet, walking up to the man and looking down upon his spot on the ground. “You so much as think of doing anything and there will be no hesitation in your death.” She stated coldly, glancing up and making a clicking sound.

Wynn trotted up to Ale, letting the woman put her shield and helm back into their places, freeing her hands. Brown eyes now turned, her braided and pinned hair still in place—though some of the strands were clearly disheveled and now hung about her face, a few strands sticking to her hot and damp face. “Are you alright?” The knight asked, beginning to step towards the tied woman, one hand moving to her side where the dagger had broken, pulling the twisted bit of metal from between her armor. The blade came back with a thin layer of ruby-red blood, making it slick in her grasp. The knight tossed it aside, kneeling beside the woman. “Here,” She tugged at the ropes, freeing the woman’s hands. “Sera Alevadra Druva,” She introduced herself with a smile before motioning to the men. “What happened?” Ale asked as she gathered the rope and moved back to Bren and began tying him up.
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Messing With The Feline Gets You Scratched By The Sword

Postby Vanator on March 24th, 2014, 3:48 pm

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It had been almost two tenday since the intense evening that Reven and Vanator finally bonded. In the short time, Vanator had strove to grasp the bounds and meanings within the bond, reading the telltale emotions and perceptions that the connection fed each of them. They had learned it's intensity was related to proximity, the closer the Kelvic and Drykas were to one another, the stronger the inclinations. Likewise, with enough distance, the feeling could almost vanish, leaving only a hollow sensation in the absence of the other.

So, Van had aroused from sleep, the very lack of Reven's presence failing to awake him as usual. That lack of awareness of his bondmate immediately alarmed Vanator, and he sat on the edge of his bed to ply the Sanctuary web for her presence. There was nothing. It was not unusual for the cougar to roam the fortress' perimiter. Reven claimed it as her territory, marking it often to ward of other large predators. But something lingered at the edge of his awareness, and some recollection that she had intended on going to the city that morning.

Then Larik burst into the room. His Kelvic son was nude, an indication he had just shifted from his raptor body. "Its Reven, two men, or three, a fight, she needs you, I...I didn't know what to do..." The young man spilled hastily his words.

"Where?!" Van barked.

"Just up the road, towards Riverfall." Larik replied, still panting.

"Stay here..." Vanator instructed his son, not willing to risk Larik in an unknown situation. The Drykas threw on a pair of pants, slid into his boots and grabbed the isurian battle ax from the rack, he didn't even bother to don a shirt. The Drykas raced up the tunnel to the courtyard, boots pounding on the flagstone and then on the packed dirt of the arena. Aweston had several of the Striders in the arena exercising them, ready to take them to the fields to run.

"Sirroco!" Van yelled. The stallion halted amid the group, looking towards his rider. He turned and headed to Van, and Vanator ran towards the horse. Grabbing onto Sirroco's mane with one hand, the ax still in the other, Vanator pulled himself up, clenching his legs around the Strider's barrel and leaning against his neck. With a Pavi command and a dig of his booted heels, the Drykas urged the mount forward, Aweston already opening the horse gate.

Sirroco's hooves pounded against the road as he carried Vanator towards Reven, Van holding tight, feeling Reven's presence grow stronger, feeling her desperation. It drove Vanator into an near panic, only sensing her fear and anger, and twinges of pain...and the scent of unwashed men.

By the time Vanator arrived on the scene, he saw the female knight leaning over Reven, her shell of metal stained with blood. He slid from Sirroco's back even before the horse could skid to a halt in the loose dirt and rock of the road. Seeing Reven had been bound, her face bloodied, her hair disheveled, ignited fear for her and rage at whomever dared touch her.

"Get away from her!" Vanator roared at the armored woman, his usual even temper blinded by concern for his bondmate, the ax held threateningly towards the knight. She was Syliran, and his logic told him she should have no reason to harm Reven. A quick dart of his eyes revealed the other men, one obviously dead, the other beaten to submission.

Vanator rushed to Reven's side, taking her into his arms. "Are you alright? He asked desperately, "what happened?" His eyes lifted to the knight with brilliantly hued hair. "What happened?" his voice turned to a growl, his brow furrowed. The Drykas was not a dull-wit, and a tick later he discerned the scenario. The men assaulted Reven, the knight, her rescuer. Astute, gold-flecked eyes caught the traces of spattered blood around a joint in the knight's armor. She was injured saving Reven. Vanator sighed, the fury of his visage waning, at least towards the swordswoman. A venomous glare was offered to the remaining attacker, promising dire consequences to his actions. But Van's first concern was for the Kelvic, and his attention turned again to Reven, his hand wiping the blood from her split lip. "Cougar...are you alright?" He whispered.
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Messing With The Feline Gets You Scratched By The Sword

Postby Reven Heath on March 24th, 2014, 8:06 pm

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As much as the Kelvic pushed into the bond for Vanator, only hollow emptiness met her, reflecting back with it all the panic she shoved into it. The sensation made her want to scream till her lungs were raw but Reven was smart enough to know they would most likely try to knock her out if she did that, and she couldn't let that happen. The cougar needed to be awake, she needed to know where they would take her once they finished binding her. If she could fight free or cut the bonds, she could shift and run...

Then she felt rough hemp slide around her neck, doubled knotted in such a way that only a blade could release her from such restraints. Reven neither had a weapon nor the mind set to look for one if she was able to get free. All she thought of was running away and maybe she could get far, she was smaller than the two, but Bren would most likely catch up with her.

“There, won't be tryin' to change on us any time soon.” He commented, securing the end of the rope in his hand. Did he just put her on a leash of sorts? Reven growled audibly now, her face tilted up from the dirt to glare at Bren. She would kill him... She would sink her teeth into him and rip him apart and she would enjoy every bit of it.

“Such malice in those eyes, pretty lady. What are you?” His face was beginning to swell from the damage she had done to his nose, making him look every bit of the pig he was. Had she broken his nose? The cougar turned her head away when she felt grainy, dirty hands push her hair back. Blood would rain from the skies before she would ever speak to him. Bren noticed this, sparking a friendly laugh from his throat.

“Come on,” He coaxed, standing and rolling her over with the tip of his boot, “Speak again, I know I saw some fangs on you.”

Reven simply stared, her feral gaze following him steadily like prey. It was full of murderous intent. Uttering not a word, Bren leaned down, grasping her light brown locks before dragging her torso up from the ground. The feline already had hair ripped from her skull and there were small trickles of blood highlighting her strains to prove it. Yet she didn't cave to the pain but simply bit her lip. “Why do you have to make this hard? Open your mouth!”

“Let's cut 'er finger off, maybe that'll do the trick!” Fyn voiced.

“They'll probably want a lower price if she's missing some fingers... But the toes, I think we can cut some toes off.” Bren began to pull her onto her feet by her hair. “Not here though, someone might see us again.”

And so, with a grunt of reluctance, they shoved her forward, yanking at the tie around her neck as if to emphasize their power over her. Reven couldn't express how angry and frustrated she was because of the situation. Why couldn't she have just walk away? Why did she have to help? Why did she get herself into this mess?.. The sound of metal on metal, clanking gently together pulled her attention just before one of the men commented on the noise.

“Petch! Get down!”

The Kelvic was thrown onto the soil once more, bones hitting the solid ground with no way to brace. Falling onto her left side caused the cougar to groan, pain igniting from her shoulder. Amidst the commotion, Reven heard the tones of a female voice echo in her ear, questioning and commanding the two. Hope lite like a fire inside Reven and she quickly turned over to view the woman. It perplexed Reven, she had never seen someone so clothed in armor, other than some of the knights outside of Riverfall. Why was the woman all the way out here?

Unless that man she saved made it back!

“Hel—!” Bren yanked on the rope, silencing her cry. Reven coughed, fighting against the hemp that held her captive, “You won't know pain until my claws find you..!” She hissed, looking him square in the face. Then both sets of eyes turned back to Fyn and the woman as a fight broke out before them.

Bren had released his own dagger and stepped off, leaving the Kelvic to work on the binding around her wrists. A knight was a fine savior, but even her odds were matched. Could the woman survive this rescue? Reven doubted it and desperately yanked at the rope, rubbing her skin raw in the process. She smelled blood in the air, irking her panic to new highs upon realizing that it was the blood of her savior.

“Stop it!” The cougar yelled, angry. She didn't need anyone dying for her. Reven wasn't worth it... “Run, get out of here!”

The course of the battle changed, however, and just as she had voiced her concern, Reven watched with wild eyes as the knight's sword cut Fyn down. Blood poured from his side, the scent filling the atmosphere, fueling the cougar's own bloodlust. Then she felt it, the strings of the bond filling the hole in her heart. Vanator was near...

Bren announced his defeat and promptly released the hold on his own weapon before the woman addressed Reven. She was still on the ground, fighting the restraints when the knight came to her and helped her from them. “You...” The Kelvic breathed, “You... You're hurt!”

The binding around her wrists were removed but the one on her neck remained, “You could have been killed! I— Why—... I'm so sorry...! I thought I could handle it myself, I'm so sorry...” Her shaky voice lowered, “Reven... My name's Reven.” She finally introduced.

Distraught, her hands reached out to the side of Alevadra's chest plate, where blood covered it in thick splatters. The bond magnified her wild panic, anger, and fear as she felt her bondmate, and heard his steed, approach the two woman. His form appeared hastily and before she could think, his gaze was fixed upon Reven's, startled and full of concern, anger and fiery rage boiling within his golden, brown depths.

“Van...” She rasped, looking as startled and anxious as he. Her hands gripped tightly to his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh, the panic from the event washing into the bond. “Van, I'm sorry— I thought I could take care of myself..! These men were trying to take this- this person and I knew it was a bad idea. I... I forgot my knife but I couldn't let them go— who would let someone get taken?! I thought I could handle them but— They...” Her eyes were wide, the rest of the story telling itself.

Reven pulled him close, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. She realized how foolish her actions were, and what she had nearly sacrificed because of them. It was embarrassing and shameful. He was her top priority and the cougar had allowed herself to get captured so easily and almost taken away from him. Clinging to Vanator, he would be able to feel her form tremble softly.

“Oh Gods, I'm so happy to see you.” She whispered, trying to bury the overwhelming need to cry with relief. "Forgive me..." She was a mess, covered in dirt, sweat, and blood, but none of that matter now that he was there. Except...

“Alevadra's hurt, Van. That woman.” Ale had moved away at this point to tie up Bren, “She needs help.”

Pulling from him, hazel eyes looked on as Ale began her work restraining Bren. He was compliant to an extent, cursing, spitting, all around foul until the knight moved to bind his other wrist. That's when he swung free of her hold, aiming a fist at her in hopes of knocking her away. Regardless if he actually hit her or not, Bren would scramble from his spot, taking off towards the Grass Lands.

What could be out there for him other than danger? He had left his dagger... What was he returning to?
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Messing With The Feline Gets You Scratched By The Sword

Postby Alevadra Druva on March 26th, 2014, 5:14 pm

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Ale ignored the calls from the woman for her to leave, to run from the fight. Run from her duty? Run from what she had sworn to do, even if it meant her last breath were to be drawn that quiet morning? Sera Druva could not simply run from this, saving her own skin was never the top priority when she found herself in situations like this one. Justice, Honor, Chivalry, Truth… She swore to Tyveth she would uphold his virtues, and see to it that those who did not see the light surely would.

“Don’t worry about me, the damage is done—it will be tended to.” Ale pushed aside her injury, while the extent of damage was still unknown as the rush of the fight was dulling her sense of pain, she knew there were more important things to attend to initially. “I could be killed at any point; it’s the life I swore myself to. You have no need to apologize. I swore myself to this life knowing that I could find death while doing my duty.” Ale said was simply, to her, there was nothing else to her life—her parents had lived the same life and now she did. The idea of death did not scare her, she had few connections, her death would be missed surely, but the world would continue and no one would be so grief stricken that they were unable to continue on with life. “I am glad you are safe, Reven—“ Ale’s head jerked up as another man began to approach on horseback, her hand moving to her sword suddenly.

However, it was soon realized that the newcomer was not with the others. Ale stepped back, moving to the man with the swollen face, her fingers fumbling with the rope, attempting to tie him up. The knight knew the emotions of love and family, she’d seen them and years ago experienced them. The man asked Ale what happened the knight looked at him for a moment, before she could answer Reven spoke up, spilling what had happened. Brown eyes moved back to the man she was tying, there was nothing to add to what Reven spoke of—it was all laid out before him quite plainly.

The knight looked over to Reven as she spoke of Ale’s injury. “First we have to take care of this petching thing.” Ale hissed while Bren spit on her breast plate and thrashed as she worked on tying up one hand. “You keep that up and you’ll learn what it feels like to be kneed in full plate!” She grunted, roughly jerking his arm to finish tying the first binding. One wrist was bound, and Ale reached to get the other, getting too close to the man. It happened within a flash, a swing and blinding pain which knocked her back on the ground.

Curses in Pavi spewed from Ale’s mouth as her armored hands went up to her face. The petching scoundrel had clocked her in the face! She could taste blood on her lips, her nose becoming numb. Why couldn’t he have just been compliant? A moment dazed and Ale’s eyes focused, stumbling to her feet. “Wynn!” She clicked her tongue and the horse came without hesitation. “Your blood is solely on your hands now!” Ale yelled, blood from her nose curling around her chin and slipping into the metal the encased her.

The man ran towards the grasslands and the knight on her stead followed swiftly. Her attention on the other man was brief, unsure if he was going to go after the man as well. Honestly, Ale didn’t want the woman left alone, but she had no control over that now that she was chasing the man. For his size, Bren was surprisingly fast, not as quick as horses, but he was dodgy, making it hard for Ale to keep close enough to him. There was no chance of her hitting him with her sword and her bow would take too long to string.

Each bounce on the horse caused her armor to clink; a glance was given to her side, where the steel was turning red with a thin layer of blood. The edges of her armor were drying and becoming sticky making a strange, muddled sound as they moved. Her teeth grit, brown eyes moving back to Bren who was panting and giving glances over to Ale from time to time. Wynn dodged rocks and other hazards, weaving close to and far from Bren as they moved.

The knight loosened a foot from its stirrup, letting go of the reins and guiding the horse with her knees, letting her free foot hang loose. The other foot, still in its stirrup scooted back till only the balls of her feet pressed down upon it. Her heart pounded, this was a stupid idea. This was a stupid, crazy idea. This was something Patrick would tell her was stupid. Ale smiled slightly, good thing Patrick was dead, otherwise he’d call her a petching fool and jab her in the side.

Petching fool or not. She was going for it. Her free foot moved up awkwardly onto the saddle, her hands gripping the horses neck as she tugged Wynn towards Bren. Her form left the horse awkwardly as her mind spoke a quick prayer. The metal clad woman slammed into the other man, the sound of something crunching beneath her could be heard as they tumbled to the ground, Ale impacting half of Bren and half of her impacting the ground. Her body tumbled and rolled from the assailant.

The knight gasped for breath, the wind knocked out of her from the impact. Patrick would have been right that was exceptionally stupid. Brown, dazed eyes looked over to Bren, who was rolling around screaming and grabbing at his twisted leg. Well, at least he wasn’t going anywhere now. With a grunt, Ale rolled onto her stomach and started to scramble to her feet. “See, if you hadn’t run like the petching moron you are, none of this would be happening,” Getting to her feet proved a more challenging task than expected, the impact and tumble had left her a little dazed. The knight remained on her knees, attention set on Bren.

“When I get over there, you’re going to wish you’d just let me tie you up.” Ale spat into the grass and dirt, thick, blood laden saliva stuck to the stalks and she caught her breath.
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Messing With The Feline Gets You Scratched By The Sword

Postby Vanator on March 27th, 2014, 3:34 pm

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Vanator clung to Reven as she tried to explain, spilling her story and apologies in broken sentences. The Drykas sensed her fear and distress through the bond, agitating his own emotions. When the Kelvic reveal that the men had laid hands on her, tried to take her, the rattled feelings gelled into rage within Vanator. Comforting Reven and ensuring she was alright was the Denusk's first concern, but exacting a pound of flesh from her attackers clamored to come in close second.

Reven revealed how the knight was injured, and his lively eyes fell to the armored woman again. Van had already discerned she was a true warrior, for not everyone who donned armor and brandished a sword was fit to carry them. But Vanator saw in just the few movements of the knight that Alevadra was worthy of her knighthood.

"Its alright, you are safe now," Vanator crooned in his bondmate's ear, even as he watched Alevadra bind the assailant, not far from his slain companion. The fool wound not give up, spitting and insulting the knight as she attempted to restrain him. The fellow got a lucky blow to connect with the woman's head. She reeled back a moment, and the slaver was on his feet in a flash, dashing away.

Vanator's eyes widened a bit when he hear the unusual swordswoman utter her curse in Pavi. A Drykas? Investigation would have to wait, for her mount quickly answered Alevadra's summons and she vaulted into her saddle, galloping off after the fugitive. The bondmates watched the knight easily catch up to the fleeing man, taking him down with a daring maneuver. The two of them tumbled to the ground, the man screaming in pain, the knight slow to gain her feet. Vanator helped Reven to her feet, and pausing only long enough to kick the second man to ensure he was dead, Van jogged towards the knight and the slaver.

Vanator paused as he caught up with the knight, looking her over quickly. Alevadra moved slow, bloodied, but as determined as he to deal with the attacker. "Help steady her," Van instructed Reven as he moved to the man writhing on the ground. The sight of the slob fueled again his anger, his hands had touched his bondmate. Van hovered over him for a minute, the necklace Reven had given him dangling from his bare, lacun-marked torso. The Drykas teeth clenched, and Van reached down to grip the whining man by the shirt.

"Sirroco!" Van bellowed, and the Strider stallion appeared, standing faithfully by his rider. Vanator hoisted the wretch up by his collar, slamming him against the strong shoulder of the horse. Bren yelped and screamed, trying to balance on his good leg as his hands wrapped around Van's thick wrist. Dark, gold-glinting eyes fixed on the slaver, Van breathing in sharp breaths, flecks of saliva flitting from his lips.

"You petching piece of shyke..."
So many vile and terrible threats rose to the infuriated Drykas' tongue, for suddenly, every slaver that had beaten him, his son, violated his daughter and Kavala, took on Bren's face. This man was intent on condemning his beloved bondmate to the same fate. Death was his due reward, but he was not worthy of a swift one. A darkness fell on Vanator, the self-righteous vindicator that rose in defense of his loved ones.

Van, just out of sheer hatred, slammed his fist into Bren's face, the side Alevadra had not smashed. "You thief of souls, you dared to take her, to steal my love from me, to turn her into your whore, to sell her like cattle..." Vanator was slipping, sliding into that rage, that madness that had compelled him to exact a heinous punishment on a Zith female in the grasslands, to take her forcefully, a crime he bore the guilt and shame to that very day.

Van's gaze darted around, looking for his ax. He had left it when he ran after them. Glaring again at Bren, who stared wide eyed, stifling his pain behind tight lips. Van threw him to the ground again, and the man screamed, grabbing his broken leg, wriggled in pain. Van wanted to smash him with his boot, to crush him and rid the earth of his filthy breah. But another thought came to mind. Vanator opened his hand, palm up. His gaze fixed on it, and a faint green cloud of gas gathered as he summoned res from his body. Soon the fumes became a ball of fire, hovering over his hand.

The Drykas shot a glance to Reven and the knight, the intent in his maddened eyes apparent. He was going to burn the fool alive.
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Messing With The Feline Gets You Scratched By The Sword

Postby Reven Heath on March 30th, 2014, 11:58 pm

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The Kelvic was strong but she was not prepared for the situation that unfolded before her due to her foolishness. It frightened her to realize there were people out there set on harming and destroying the humanity of others. For a brief moment, Reven was lost to her thoughts, all aimed at the present moment and the fact she had nearly become what destroyed her mother. Her arms squeezed Vanator tighter, holding him closer, sinking into the sensations of relief and comfort as he graciously offered them to her, cooing into her ear and holding her tightly to his own form. The feline was thankful for his presence. She didn't know what she would do if he hadn't been there.

Now, the only thing Reven had to worry about was Alevadra's wound. Medicine was not her forte and unfortunately, the Kelvic only knew the bare basics. Hardly anything to help the infliction her savior had. Unstrung from his torso, the Kelvic followed her mate's eyes to where Ale had attempted to tie up Bren and watched as he swung his fist into her cheek and sent her tumbling back. It was an unfortunate situation for the cowardly man because even as he went running, Ale was already calling her companion to her, taking off after him. Reven felt no need to unclothe and chase after them. There was no way she could catch up and so, kept her eyes trained on the two.

“Oh no...” Reven could see Ale driving herself to be parallel next to Bren and understood all too well what she was about to do. “She not—“

She did...

Much in the same fashion Reven would chase after prey in her cougar form, Ale launched herself from her steed and tackled Bren into the ground. The Kelvic was almost positive Alevadra was in pain from her harsh landing and quickly took the hand Van offered her, following him. Pausing for a tick to look upon the other man, Fyn, Reven saw strands of long, shining auburn hair upon his tunic. Part of her wishes Ale hadn't cut the man down just so she could exact her revenge for his brutality. The cougar wanted to rip open his throat...

Vanator's fading presence pulled her eyes from Fyn as she too began to follow her bondmate to Ale. The warrior had just risen to her feet to fight when Reven came to her, guided by Vanator's instruction and her own instincts, she slowly brought her hands up to the woman's shoulders. Alevadra was wobbly on her feet. The landing must have disoriented her. “Are you alright?” Still eyes watched Ale like a hawk, trying to gently balance the knight on her feet. “Please, Knight. I think you need to sit down. We need to look at your wound.” Stepping in front of her, Reven urged her to sit once more on the dirt. “You reek of blood...” It was a scent common to the cat, she was use to tearing apart animals and so, did not find the smell repulsive in any way. The scent of blood stirred within her emotions of concern which reflected in her eyes as she looked the armored woman over.

Reven was too occupied with Ale to notice what Vanator was doing, however, the bond made her aware of his desires. Anger, nay... Hot, burning, white rage shot into the bond, setting fire to her own harbored hatred and blood lust for what had happened to her. His wrath bound her to her spot yet her eyes wandered to find his form. There he was, Bren in hand as he slammed her attacker against his stallion. She tried to quench his hatred with mercy but it burned up till the Kelvic was infected with the same fury and soon, the two were humming with the same rage to harm.

The darkness... death. She could feel its intent press down upon her as if she was being buried alive by rocks. Adrenaline rushed through her veins as Bren's cries of pain echoed in the air around them. Every yelp and scream ignited in her the instinct to rip, to claw, to bite and break, tear and kill. This instinct bled into the bond, mixed with it well, and urged her bondmate further as if to whisper sweet permission to take the man's life.

Watching as Vanator's fist connection to Bren's face, a horrid popping sound rang out and for several ticks, it appeared as if the slaver was attempting to regain his consciousness. 'No...' Her own thoughts echoed, wanting his death to be slow, torturous. Reven wanted Bren to feel the fear and pain that he had bestowed upon her. Bren shook his head as Vanator spoke, his words dark, dripping with hatred.

“I was only doing what I was told!” He screeched out, blood spitting past his teeth as he spoke. His words were hard to understand, nearly half of his face must have been broken... “Fyn was the one who wouldn't let her go— I gave her mercy!”

She drowned in rage, too caught in her emotions to respond to Bren's words. How dare he utter such a thing as mercy. He had shown her none when his companion proceeded to abuse her, he showed her none even when he had the chance, the excuse to let her go. The rope he had tied securely around her neck was evidence that he was not merciful. He was worse than the fool who had been cut down. Bren tried to shove at her mate and wiggle out of his grasp somehow but Vanator was too strong and Sirroco appeared to be as stiff as stone.

“Aaahh!” Bren was on the ground now, his scream soaked in agony while foul curses filled the air soon after as he cradled his leg. Reven took a step closer, her hand still resting on Alevadra's arm even as her love stared down at the sorry excuse for a human being. She could see the menace radiated from his form, mirroring him in much the same way. Calloused fingers gripped Ale's arms. Reven was fighting to hold onto some excuse, some reason not to murder the man but she couldn't. There was an urge inside her, something strange that awakened from Vanator as he held his palm up.

That's when Reven saw it. Mist of some sort collected in his palm that soon turned into burning fire. He was holding fire..?!

“Van...” The cougar whispered, her eyes wide.

She remembered what Kavala had told her, about a kind of power painted onto the walls to cleanse her for her appointments. Reven hadn't understood it at the time, but she thought the Konti described it as some form of spiritual power or... magic? Was that what her bondmate was doing this very moment? Did he possess some form of writing on his skin, painted in a place from her view? How was he doing such a thing as holding fire?

Bewilderment struck her as his eyes found hers, then Alevadra, as if chiming the final bell before igniting the man in flames. Reven was confused but she knew, she understood that this would satisfy both of them. Her own madness, her revenge, her wrath and fear, she allowed it to wash into him through the bond, giving him reason to follow through with his actions. The cougar wanted him dead and nothing would stop her from seeing to it that Bren suffered.

“No, no..!” Bren held up his hands, as if that would stop the gift of flames he was to receive, “No, please, mercy— By the Gods, have mercy!”
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Messing With The Feline Gets You Scratched By The Sword

Postby Alevadra Druva on April 3rd, 2014, 8:45 pm

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Gasping was all she could manage for a long while, coughing and regretting her choice to fling herself at the man from horseback. “You’re got to… Not do things like that.” She chided herself, uneasy on her feet, hands upon her metal-clad knees as she blinked to regain focus. She swallowed, the taste of blood in her mouth stuck, her tongue sticky and dry. The knight’s lungs burned as she stood up straight, a hand moving to grasp Reven’s shoulder as she stood, using her for momentary balance. “Peachy,” She croaked. Brown eyes moved from Reven’s form to look over at Vanator.

The large man was hovering over Bren, inspecting him before calling forth his horse. Ale’s eyes moved, sluggishly, back to Reven. “Hey, what sort of knight would I be if one little cut and punch to the face had me sitting out?” Ale attempted to jest with a slight grin, her hand left the woman’s arm. “I tend to reek of blood when I’ve been cut, it’s nothing new.” Her eyes moved back to Vanator and Bren, the man was now pressed against the shoulder of his strider, the other half of his face swollen and a mess from a punch delivered. Well, that wasn’t too surprising—Bren shouldn’t have run.

Her attention went back to Reven. “We’ll look at it after he’s dealt with.” She rested a hand upon the woman’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about me. I’m a resilient little shyke.” She tossed her a sideways grin before awkward side stepping around the woman, her eyes refocusing upon Vanator. This time, however, something raised in her chest and any moment of smiling was wiped from her face. In his palm was fire, flames, hot and flickering in the slight breeze of the morning.

The man’s eyes flashed between Reven and Ale, a maddened look etched upon his face. Alevadra’s heart sunk, she knew the man’s intent without him even having to say a word. “No!” She growled, moving to him, her actions were visibly uncomfortable for her as she approached him. “Not like this!” Her hand was upon her sword. “Kill him, by all means, he signed his life over the moment he tried to take her,” The woman gestured to Reven. “But I cannot stand by while to torture this piece of shyke.” She hissed, stopping a pace away from the two.

“I will not allow you to burn him alive,” She hissed through gritted teeth. There had been times when Ale wanted nothing more than for someone to die slowly and painfully. Then men that had killed Patrick—All she wanted was to watch them suffer as she took their lives. She didn’t. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t allow someone’s life to not only be taken, but for it to be excruciating and stretched out. “He is vile, he is evil, he has condemned his body and soul. You,” She took a breath, spitting off to the side to rid her mouth of some sticky, clotting blood. “You are not evil. You are not vile. I can see that. I can see that by how you look at her.” Ale glanced to Reven, as if hoping for her aide in this plea—surely, she wasn’t going to get it, the look in the fur-clad woman’s eyes held the same malice.

“Kill him, remove his head, his genitals, burn the body. But, I cannot stand by while you torture someone, no matter how vile they may be.” She shifted her position, eyes becoming hard upon Vanator. “I will not let my morals lapse even if it means I will pay with my life,”
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Messing With The Feline Gets You Scratched By The Sword

Postby Vanator on April 7th, 2014, 1:59 pm

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Vanator had not even realized how Reven's own rage at her humilation and abuse fed her bondmate through their shared awareness. A tense moment hung over the group, the Drykas employed his outrage, and that of the Kelvic that wrapped around him, to focus on the flaming sphere, keeping it intact, hovering above his hand. Van felt the heat of it, ensuring it remained far enough from his skin not to burn him. Bren plead for his life, frantic at the sight of the magic fire and the furious Drykas.

Vanator had sensed Reven's surprise at the show of Reimancy, and somewhere at the back of his mind, a voice reminded him it was not how he had wanted her to learn of his power. But the Kelvic's ire rekindled, and her bondmate's resolve endured. Until the strange knight stepped in.

The clatter of armor and her insistent voice drew the horseman's attention from the subject of his rage. The woman was equally stoked, but maintained her reason and the duty she so strongly embraced. The near threatening sincerity of her tone, and the hand on the hilt of her sword, spoke sense to the incensed man. It should have been him, an Ankal, a father, a leader, who uttered sanity into the situation, instead of creating chaos. Once again, he was on the verge of falling from judge to monster himself. The draw of his attention to the armored swordswoman, and the logical words she seethed, caused the burning ball to waver and then dissipate into the air. Vanator's glinting eyes met those of the knight, seeing sober resolution in her steady gaze. In that moment, she earned his admiration, and gratitude.

A glance darted to Reven, then to the man still cowering on the ground, as if weighing the participants and their stake in his next action. Personal vengeance, or matter of the law, would he exact justice, or allow the knight to fulfill her role as peace keeper? His Kelvic bondmate was watching. She was little more than a teenager. Reven looked to Vanator not only as a friend and lover, but a teacher, a mentor. What he chose now would have bearing upon his young mate. Had Bren been Zith, he would have already been dead. But the man now lay helpless, defenseless, and certainly worthy of death. But, even though he had intended great harm to his beloved, he was still human, and Vanator would not execute him on the spot. Part of him had to display that mercy was a part of justice.

There was a near imperceptible nod as Vanator came to a conclusion. "It is not my place to take his life, though everything in my soul wished to do so." His eyes shifted from the knight to the Kelvic. "Reven was the victim, if anyone has the right to take his life, it is her. The cougar may kill him, if she wished. If not, good knight, I leave him in your very capable hands. But allow us to tend to the wound you suffered in protecting Reven, it would be only a small token of gratitude for a great debt I don't know how to repay."
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Messing With The Feline Gets You Scratched By The Sword

Postby Reven Heath on April 9th, 2014, 2:23 am

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The Kelvic admired Alevadra's strong willed personality, her words directed at Reven allowed a brief smile to show upon her lips before it seemed like that void broke open. Air pushed past clenched teeth, her jaw tense, fury blazing. The Drykas and Kelvic mirrored each other, emotions running high between the two at this point. So high, that Reven nearly latched onto the Knight when her orders sounded for Vanator to stop. She didn't want him to stop. The both of the men deserved to die, to feel the same pain and fear they exacted upon others. Even if Alevadra persuaded her mate with noble words, the Kelvic could not budge on the matter.

Slavery was tied to her, she loathed it, hated seeing it and hearing about it. Reven attempted to stuff the resentment down on many occasions but this time, it could not be buried away. Hazel eyes watched, turning from blazing green to a dark, primal yellow. Reven wasn't upset with her bondmate or with the Knight for halting his actions, no... She was actually glad that the two decided to leave the decision up to her. Reven was far from moral guidance, far from mercy and kindness. She did not serve a noble cause like Alevadra and she was far from the ways of a proper leader. Reven was neither of those things.

She was an animal.

“Van, pick him up... Let him go.” Her words were firm and, if Van was not bonded to her, the tone of voice she used could have been easily mistaken for mercy.

No, no... She wouldn't be merciful. Vanator could feel the intensity of her wrath, he would be able to see past her words and realize what she meant to do.

Her feet carried her back to the body of Fyn where she took from the ground next to him the dagger Bren dropped. Tucking the blade under the hemp, Reven cut through the rope tied around her neck before dropping the knife. The Kelvic would have her revenge.

“I think you both should head back to the road, I'm okay...” She tried to play off gently as she approached them, but it failed. “Actually, I would prefer it if you didn't watch. I'll meet you two in a moment. Please go.”

Reven wouldn't take no for an answer, even if the Knight raised her sword at her or her bondmate tried to stop her. All thoughts and cautions left her mind, the Kelvic was giving into her nature, defending and dominating. She would not be made to look helpless and weak. The night she bonded with the Drykas, she meant every word. Reven could fight her own battles

Her hands already started unfastening the straps of her boots before releasing the latches on her vest and finally, discarding her pants. Waiting until the man was picked up and released, she paused, her form engulf in a surge of light till her form stood on stiff, powerful paws. Brown fur with splotches of black dots stood up while thick, pointed teeth opened wide as a high pitched snarl echoed from her lungs. The sound was sharp, horrid, beastly, the cougar showing herself as the predator that she was. Pacing softly, circling, her yellow eyes watched as Bren stumbled on one leg, attempting to distance himself from the group but he wasn't getting far. He was broken.

With a slow turn and a twitch of her tail, Reven sprang forth, launching herself into the tall grasses toward the man. The distance was enough for her to build up speed and run into him like a stone wall, knocking the air out of his lungs as he as done to her. This was not the thought that came across her mind, however, it was blood lust that coated her emotions and even the bond. The air whipped around her, stalks of grass smacking her legs and body as she bounded quickly through the area. Bren's form was only a few paces away. With precision, Reven pushed off the soil and tackled him from behind. Snarling, her jaws found his neck while both beings landed hard on the ground and even as the impact had surely roused pain from him, Bren yelled and fought back. He tried to tuck his shoulders to fight her grip but Reven maneuvered in such a way that one calloused paw found his head while the other gripped his shoulder with razor sharp claws.

“Aaahh!” He was screaming, "Aauhhh! Aaaauhh!"

He had every right to be. Thick fangs were slowly pressing into the skin of his throat till finally, Reven bit down and yanked. Bren's bloody cries ceased, an eerie silence falling over the area but it was soon replaced with snarls and the sound of ripping flesh. The cougar had latched onto the back of his neck and effectively broke it before rolling his body over.

The smell of blood thick in the air, Reven maimed his body, letting her emotions out with every scratch, tear, and rip. Memories of the journal she found, discovering her mother was a slave, proving her worth, looking weak and helpless, feeling as if she was next to nothing. All of this fueled her white rage, blinding any kind of mercy or forgiveness. This was her territory, her land. The Sanctuary was only a short distance away but she had claimed the area, Reven was the dominant feline, she was the one in control, she was powerful, strong, and she would not be challenged by others. Not in her domain.

Reven only wished this was Fyn beneath her claws and not Bren...

By the time the Kelvic was done with the corpse, it was unrecognizable. Reven was covered in a thick layer of blood, making her appear more as a monster than a cougar but she didn't care. Teeth latching onto the organ, Reven dragged and tore it harshly from the body before sauntering away, following the scent of her mate.

Coming out of the tall grass, the Kelvic turned yellow eyes on Vanator before looking upon Alevadra with the same feral gaze. Wild, territorial, aggressive, that's what the woman could see from the blood covered animal. Circling slowly in front of the two, Reven barred her teeth at the woman, the sword on her hip glinting dangerously. However, after several ticks, the cougar allow her feral behavior to slowly die away before spitting the organ from her mouth.

It rolled against the ground, clearly visible for the two to look at.

Bren's bloody heart stilled.

A growl reverberated from her throat, predator eyes passing from the Knight to her bondmate before the cougar swallowed, as if to silence the growl, and sat back on her haunches. A large tail flicked behind her, gaze blazing, expectant, waiting for someone to say something. All three understood what the young woman had just done. It frightened her for a moment, not because she had murdered a human being but because she had enjoyed it... She enjoyed the maddening chaos fueled by adrenaline. Reven's eyes settled on Vanator's, staring at him, fixing him to his spot.

The emotions surged from the kill had already echoed into the bond but this did not faze the Kelvic and her eyes told him that. So, sitting there with nearly half her body covered in a layer of blood, she waited to see what the two humans would do, thick tail flicking.
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Reven Heath
Happy memories.
 
Posts: 220
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Joined roleplay: February 3rd, 2014, 2:26 am
Location: Riverfall
Race: Kelvic
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