Wysteria watched helplessly from beneath the heavy, stinking werewolf that had her pinned to the ground by both shoulders. The fledgling tried to wriggle free, feeling those dreaded claws sink deeper into her skin. She let out a whimper, lacking the energy to cry out. Then, all of a sudden, the human Huntress moved quicker than she’d ever seen a human move. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, she was upon the shewolf, weapons brandished proudly. Wysteria watched wide-eyed as the Huntress, Lyselle, brought both blades down in an almighty slash. It must’ve been blessed silver because from beneath the wounded shewolf, she heard the singe of burning flesh and the stench of charred fur. The beast let out a pained cry, the strange mixture of a lupine whine and a human wail… A haunting sound which would no doubt grab the attention of her fellow pack member. Wysteria mustered as much strength as she could and seized the opportunity to shove the laden body off of her. She scrambled backwards, kicking up dirt with her feet as she pushed herself further out of the werewolf’s reach. [i]“Alright, human”[/i] Wysteria panted, jutting her chin at the other werewolf that still stood firmly in attack opposite her sire. [i]“Now deal with that one!”[/i] _________________________________ Violet’s vision went to black as she felt the human’s silver blades rake along her flesh. She felt it tear her open, the warmth of pooling blood spilling from her side. Then, the burning commenced. Like pouring salt water on a fresh wound, the silver scorched her abdomen. Something like a cry for help ripped out of her slack jaw and she shook her head, trying to clear her blurred vision. She didn’t even have time to contemplate the betrayal she felt from the human’s one worded [b]"Wrong."[/b] Compelled by rage and vengeance, Violet clumsily fumbled to her feet, feeling her body strain under the burden of pain. She flicked her head to face her assailant and mindlessly charged, brandishing her claws, ready to tear the human open. _________________________________ Renaissance heard the wolf cry but felt it more so. It struck down her spine like a bolt of lightning and she watched it register on the male wolf’s face. A flash of worry flickered in his violent eyes as he faced her once again, preparing for his next attack. The ancient vampire watched as he veered left, putting a little more space between them. Ren was crouched, readied, her hand darted beneath her skirt to grab the hilt of her encrusted dagger. It sung with pleasure to be wielded, anticipating meeting flesh with a hungry imminence. Dagger in one hand, talon on the other, Renaissance felt her body set ablaze with sheer adrenaline and power. She submitted to it, let it seep into every molecule of her undead body. Her muscles pulsed but her breath was slow. Like a masterfully trained assassin, the ancient vampire took slow, careful steps to the right. And so she and the unwounded werewolf circled one another like lions in the wild. Both of them daring the other with deadly stares to make the next move. Ren didn’t care; Attack or defence it made no difference to her. She felt confident in both positions. Whether it would be a swift lunge and uppercut with her wielded silver dagger, a twist into a slash across the maw with her talon or a defensive plunge of the blade in whatever body part was closest - Ren would succeed. The alternative simply wasn’t a possibility. She couldn’t remember the last time an enemy marked her cold, undead skin. Always prepared, always calculated, always preempting her enemies next move… Renaissance Le Sang was an artful, elegant fighter. She favoured swift, choreographed movements. Elaborate shows of skill, practiced over the span of her eternal life. She’d memorised combinations, mastering the use of a blade in harmonious and synchronised steps. [i]“Come,”[/i] Ren hissed, that serpentine tone to her voice warped into inhuman tones. [i]“I’ll make this quick for you, dog. I can’t bear to hear a mutt whine for mercy.”[/i]