Success initially was never the final word, that much Zora knew. On the subject of this world or this prey however she was at a loss for complete explanation. Having a few pieces helps, the entire completed puzzle though provides a much clearer picture. She had lasted the blood, the chunk and then felt the throw. A strained and strange sounding snarling rippled in her throat as she fell toward the ground. The impact wasn’t lush or padded and the snarl died on impact. The chunk falling from her mouth. Airless…stuck…void…she couldn’t seem to breath for a moment and the world was spinning slightly it seemed. Funny…she didn’t remember the trees pointing like that. Another moment and the breath seemed to fly in, providing a relief it’s own.

She struggled to right herself, mind starting to sort out and identify current events. All shades of her coat were sprinkled with twigs and leaves alike as paws and body attempted to scramble forward away from the thundering fury. The little traction was useless it would seem though as futile was the effort. The vengeful boar coming upon her struck her with terror. Eyes widened momentarily with little time to react she attempted to pull herself in, not quite fetal positioning but coming close in her panic. She couldn’t quite tell why but the name sprung to her mouth quickly. “Oberon.” This was going to be serious, not only for her but for others she assumed.

Her front right paw felt the impact of rage from the boar’s trampling then. A small shriek emitted with a crack. Another less audible crack was heard as again and again, closer towards her heart, she thought, the pig attempted to strike. Eyes closed momentarily as she saw the rearing up of the pig. She felt a light sliding down on her stomach, at first she thought tusk but the pain wasn’t that serve she realized upon opening her eyes. Seeing Pepper she knew this was her only moment of opportunity to get away from striking distance. She attempted to do just that, adrenaline coursing through her as her chest heaved in pain and she limped a few feet away from the direct action to take stock of herself.

A few feet away and she turned to keep the boar in her sights. Her heart was still beating and dull ache in chest didn't seem much at the moment. Ears flicked back as she saw the other wolves. She didn't know them personally yet but she felt for them; pain was pain.

tags: Pepper Callisto @quartz Ray
words: 372
notes: Zora’s like what in the ‘ell

The summoning came to him like a whisper upon the wind.

In a different section of the Black Forest, Morpheus stirred. His crystalline blue eyes opened slowly, blinking away the last vestiges of sleep. He had found that one of his powers provided hints of forewarning, murky visions of things to come that were twisted and turned by the realm of the gods.

Oftentimes his dreams were his own, but this time he had been faced with a great hulking beast – snow-white and cold and vicious. Snow and blood and the thick musk of death threatening to strangle him. He knew not what it meant, only knew that it would come soon – and could think no more on it, for that was when Pepper’s call reached him.

The connection between a Guide and their charge was a strange, mysterious thing. A tenuous connection, that some might theorize a matter of temperament or bloodlines. Morpheus did not think it was either, only knew what all Guides knew – that her voice was within him, her pain upon him, and he was desperately drawn to seek her.

Not that the thread that linked them lent him any desire to keep her from harm – in truth he held fondness for his first mortal, and so the panic that raced through him was all made from his own emotions.

He was upon his feet in a swift and sudden leap. A second leap took him out of the hollow he had slept in, the rush of his movements shaking free the debris that had gathered within his coat while he slumbered.

He threaded a path through the forest, head lowered and ears pinned back as he ducked low-lying branches, bounding over fallen logs and boulders that jutted from the ground. The pace he set was swift, but for his divine body it was hardly enough to wind him.

The desperation within him grew greater as he drew near enough to scent the blood – the ground was swamped in it, copper clogging his nostrils, sitting heavily atop his tongue.

He burst into the clearing with a great leap, a ghost to match the great spirit beast they faced. He stood just beyond the thickset foliage, his eyes swiftly taking in the sight that lay before him.

It was sheer carnage.

The boar had fought them more fiercely than likely any other prey they had encountered before. Still, he knew what drove them – the scent of her, the smell of the god realm, was absolutely intoxicating to those that were incomplete deities.

But they had found her a terrifying opponent.

This, Morpheus took in at a glance. But what set his fur to bristling, his hackles raised high, lips peeled back from his white teeth, was the two mortals that were his.

Of the two, the black demon that had run from him was the lesser-injured. But Pepper, oh, his heart ached for the cowardly creature. Had he drove her to this? The blood that ran from her nose in slow rivulets, the way she scrambled – it tore at his insides.

If there was any pleasure he took in the sight, it was that there were other mortals that were not his – which meant that there was another Guide, another god. And perhaps they would prove a more formidable fighter than himself.

He stepped toward the boar, snarling, slowly crossing the clearing until he was between her and the most grievously injured – which appeared to be Pepper.

But despite the savagery that had transformed his normally tranquil face, his voice was deceptively soft as he said, “Step away, Pepper. You as well,” he added to the champagne-topped wolf. “I am not a god capable of healing others.”

Then he redirected his attention to the boar. He took in at a glance how it was backed against a tree, its left eye a black hole in its brutish head. One ear was in ribbons, blood ran freely down its cheek. He assumed its back was equally injured.

But it could still fight, could still wound – and he could heal himself. So, if there was not another Guide coming –

Right. It fell to him.

Louder, so that the whole of the gathered mortals could hear him, he said, “I’ll keep its head busy. See what you can do.”

And then he was charging forward, leaping up and toward the boar in an arc at the last possible moment. His momentum carried him over the dangerous tusks, and he aimed for the skull, the heft of flesh directly above the eyes and between the ears.

For the intelligent hunter, it was a forbidden zone. There was no justifiable reason to attack there, beyond an attempt to have the creature focus all its ire on you. But that was Morpheus’ goal. He was fresh, compared to these weathered and beaten creatures. And when night fell, he could easily heal even his most grievous of wounds simply by consuming the dreams of slumbering creatures.

He knew the mortals were not so easily restored.

Note: The boar is currently focused on Morpheus. All retaliation attacks will focus on him.

Morpheus’ attack hit its target. He ended up practically atop the monster sow’s face, mouth clamped around the round of her skull. The bite itself was strong enough to damage her, but it had the added benefit of forcing her to focus on solely him until she could throw him off.

A roar that had been building in her lungs was abruptly cut off as the second god struck, his earthen pillar striking her from below, spearing into her chest – while its blunted tip could not pierce her armored hide, it struck a heavy blow to her insides, a wet cough escaping the spirit beast.

But she could not focus on him, could not possibly retaliate, until she had removed the horned abomination upon her face.

So she swung her heavy head, the wolf still attached, carried off his paws by her sheer strength, and slammed him against the same pillar of earth that had previously battered her unarmored underside.

She breathed heavily with the effort, relying on her mass to press him hard against the packed earth, trying to scrape him off like she might a bit of mud.

So intent on the god’s demise was she, the sow did not see the wolves sneaking up behind her – battered but not beaten and only came to know of their appearance when both tore into her hind legs.

She shrieked, buckled, unconsciously smashing Morpheus harder against the earth, unable to withstand the assault upon her already-injured hind end.

With a heavy moan, her hind legs buckled beneath her, leaving her straining to stay up on only her front legs.

She roared but this scream was different – there was a note of defeat, the song of a defeated warrior. She would perish, yes, but she would attempt to bring this white bastard down with her.

Once more she swung her heavy head, no longer able to truly smash him against the pillar, instead choosing to try and smear him into the ground.

She would not die in vain.


ooc: wolf attack rolls. boar attack rolls. 10 HP left! One more round should do it!