carabadgermum
Co-Administrator
~Badger Matriarch~[P:NaN]
the paw that rocks the cradle rules the world
Posts: 3,409
|
Post by carabadgermum on May 17, 2011 22:01:59 GMT -5
The weaselmum was struck as dumb as her oldest whelp for a moment while she took Thunder back from Senn. Truth be told part of her wanted to be right there beside him passing out one way tickets to Hellsgates. But she was always more of a tracker than a fighter but she knew the land and could sneak up on any of the bumbling fools, dispatching them before they had time to blink. That and the excitement of the evening, the chase, and the little taste of battle had her blood up and thirsting for more.
And then there were the twins. There was no way she could go rushing headlong into danger especially that which concerned the Reds with two little ones holding her back. "Don't let them take you back." the words finally burst from her. She was strangely enough worried for this practical stranger's safety but also for what he might say when the torturer got his claws into him. She knew she had told Senn far too much about herself, plus he could tell them about Lightning and Thunder.
On her back Lightning was writhing to get out of his sling. He obviously wanted to tell her something but she didn't give him the option of freedom just yet. There was nothing she could do about what information she had divulged to him now and he seemed a competent enough beast, so she simply nodded and waited for him to run off back into the fray.
|
|
|
Post by blackfox7 on May 23, 2011 10:45:15 GMT -5
Already Senn was running. He barely heard the weaselmother's words for the wardrums beating in his head. Baring fangs in a grotesque semblance of a smile, he pounded back toward the column of pursuers with his curved sword in one paw and the stolen baton in the other. He first clashed with the mongoose captain, who was forced to leap back in surprise and fright as his quarry suddenly whirled the iron tipped rod at him.
"Raddhiyaaaaa! Ssdeeeeaaath!!!" the black weasel bayed his lost tribe's battle cry straight into the face of his enemy. The mongoose backed, and backed, and backed, parrying and narrowly ducking baton and sword swings. One swipe of the weasel's blade took his left ear, and he shreiked in alarm. How had he not seen that coming?!? Before the Red Horde Captain could ponder that development further the iron ball on the tip of Senn's baton cracked loudly upon his jaw, sending him out in an instant. As the Reds' officer fell in a limp heap the front runners of the field unit came thundering through the undergrowth, the pikebeast's line reassembled with archers to follow. The former battleslave bellowed, totally berserk and craving to cause bloodshed. Sennveil leaped, soaring over the lowered points of the polearms and planting his footpaws in the unprotected faces of two rats. He whirled about, hacking madly at any exposed flesh, severing paws, gouging at faces, slicing throats, taking tails. Reds screamed and scrambled to get away, or rushed to overpower the crazed slayer in their midst by sheer numbers. At the moment, none of the soldiers could come close to Senn; they risked being killed instantly or fataly wounding their own in the enclosed battle arena. All the while Senn was having the time of his life. A depraved cackle of delight rang up over the squeals of the wounded and dying and other battlenoise.
Well back from the melee, Field Marshal Hemlock ranted and cursed. Though his target was surrounded he could not yet taste victory--the black weasels killer mindset had been triggered. The only thing that could stop him now was death, immobilization, or the complete destruction of every last one of his foes...
|
|