(13:32:09) Cortés's body ached from the activities of the day prior, and not only did his face look like shit, he probably smelled like it too. Wet dog combined with rustic blood wasn't the greatest combination. So on the way back from his bathing, with the help from Pi of course, he took aside trip to a flower patch. His body immediately rolled unto the ground, his weight crushing flower and foliage alike. Mud clung unto his fur, and his body grew darker in coloration. Of course this was temporary, as the dried caked on soil would either fall or fade away with time. For now though, he looked like a muddy mess, and he was delighted. He'd be cool, and he wouldn't smell too bad. Now he was home, or rather, his new home. La puerta del infierno, as he liked to think of it. In actuality, it was the only name he had for the pack. He didn't know it's name, it's hierarchy, or it's people. He supposed though, he should certainly find out. A yawn broke the man's silence, having just awoken from his slumber only moments ago. His eye socket, caked with mud and the like, twitched unnaturally as he tried to look around with his good eye. His vision was much better now that blood wasn't dripping about. Wounds were closing, some took longer than others. All in all, not so bad. Cortes moved to stand, his body protesting of the movement, but he gave no heed to it. Any indication of discomfort was ignored as he pushed onward to sit upright. His tail wagged idly behind him, his nubbed ear,(which now matched his other) twitched against the cool wind. He supposed it was time to find out more of what he signed his life to.
(13:41:04) Drakov: Sore hind leg was fairly ignored by the following day. After a well needed sleep, short as it always was, it was enough to kick the healing process into gear. So todays sore seemed of a completely different variety, something brushed off even when morning was spent cleaning the small gash paired with it across his thigh. Well.. So he'd attempt. Awkward as fucking location. How do you reach this?! Pale male was rolled in an awkward way dead center of the courtyard. Leg outstretched and tongue just barely licking at the scabbing that'd already begun to take place. He looked like a gross cat. Ew. Dust puffed about as paws readjusted to hold his front end in the strained position, claws digging into the dirt below for stability. Took way fucking longer than it should have for such a simple wound, but once he'd finally managed what he deemed an appropriate amount of cleaning, he'd shift to stand with a snort only to drop sights right on Cort off in the distance.Gaze lingered from the man, allowings sights to take in everything along the horizon before falling back to the male. With a roll of shoulders, and a feint toothy grin likely unnoticed from this distance, he'd push forward to meet the male half way. "Pi treated you vell, i azzume?" Not that he was hugely concerned for Cort's well being yet. His only interested was for the sake of his own brawl with the lad, and of course.. Because Pi was being judged likes nobodies business. Pffttt. But that was besides the point.
(14:08:42) Piscean had been up early, wandering around the outskirts of the courtyard, for no particualr reason. She just felt like she neede a bit of exploration for the day, perhaps she would encoutner a rabbit or squirrel she could take back to Cortes, as was her duty dictated by Vadimir. Her return to the courtyard was with empty jaws, however. Well, she wasn't out with the aim of hunting anywho. No one was awake on her departure, so hopefully it wouldn't be much of an issue. Though, on her return, it seemed the other Tsar, Drakov, and Cortes were up. Mutt certainly wished she had something to show for her little hike now. So Pi appreached Cortes and Drakov quietly and slowly, taking a seat a little ways by Cortes. She nodded in greeting to both of them, before adressing the newly inducted male. "Do you need anything? Food, or soemthing of the like?" Her tail wagged behind her. The girl was jus so eager to pelase. Pink gaze shifted to Drakov. "Is there anytihng I can do for you?" she asked making sure he knew she wasn't trying to exclude or ignore him in some sort of rotten attitude.
(14:21:36) Zodiak had been flopped onto his side, painful wound facing the skies as he hoped for rain that would never come when he needed it. The boy wasn't 100% against water he just couldn't take being submerged; the thought alone bringing on the rushing of waves and the voice that would soon admit him to the assylum. Body twitched and lips curled as low growls would taper from his jaws. His dreams lingered on the battles that would soon fill his days. He was to fight vadimir, a battle he felt overdue as it'd been several days since ordered. Then there was cortes the defient bastard that made his hackles stand on end. No wonder he'd gotten the beatdowns that he did, zod never realized how frustrating a challenge to authority was when you were on the receiving end. Sorry drak, MY BAD. Body would jerk suddenly and he'd flip up with a snarl, nearly barking as fangs had been lunging at his opponents throat. Realization of dreaming was quickly noted and he'd sneeze, tongue flicking up across his nose before he'd look over to his side. The wound was scabbed over but inflamed and sore. Paws would stretch forward and lift him partially as maw sought to reach the dirty mess. Tongue flicked out and grazed across his puncture causing pain to shoot in all directions from the source. A growl lingered in his throat before he shook and rose to haunches, gazing over toward the den to see Drak, Pi, and...ugh Him. Eyes narrowed and ear folded itself back as gazed toward the last thing he wanted to see upon waking. With a sigh zod would rise and head over to the group, first approaching Pi as he'd never officially investigated this female. Nose would invade personal boundaries and poke and prod at the fur along neck and side before nosing its way up and into her ear as several quick sniffs were given. He'd draw back and calmly move away from her to drak where he assumed his usual greeting; tail fanning backside and nose nudgeing up under his chin before several gently noms were given to his face. Morning morning! He'd sit beside him and glare towards cortez, his feelings for the brute quite obvious before gaze would shift back to drak and his leg, head tilting to the side. "hopefully whatever did that got whats theirs" he'd half joke, hopefully drak wasn't in a grumpy mood.
(14:35:33) Cortés cocked his head as he a spied a rather peculiar form in the dead center of the courtyard. His eye brow quirked at the sight, but he gave no chortle or laugh. Instead he waited until he was spotted and when he was, he cracked a small smile. "She was satisfactorio, yes." And speak of the devil! He turned to spy the woman as she came closer, fluttering like a mother hen. "Muñeca, cálmate. You're eagerness is pleasing, but I am fine." Cortes shook himself a bit, ridding himself of mud piles that had clung to his belly, but faltered when he took a deep inhale of the woman beside him. "tu olor ..." Cortes smiled knowingly. That 'time' of the month. He remembered the smell from his previous love. Hell it was the sole reason he probably had kids in the first place. No matter how old he was though, the stench was enough to drive any man wild. Thankfully, his Spanish blood and gentleman nature allowed him precious time to fight the need to procreate. Ignoring the smells of her, he turned to look over the male much more closely, and chuckled. "If you need aid from me as well, I will humbly offer it, as Mi Maestro's familia." Though he didn't expect his offer to be taken seriously. Still though. Despite his offer of help and such, he never once came off his guard. His body remained coiled in case anything were to happen that wouldn't be in his favor... Thoughts of the young male from last evening, who stopped both he and Pi, came to mind. He felt his lips twitch upward before finally focusing solely on the man. "Tell me, mi amigo... This place. Your familia. What name do you give it?" He lifted a paw to side sweep, as if gesturing to the whole vicinity. "I am curious to know more of what my life will be like." Then, like as if his thoughts conjured the man, the sight of the young buck had appeared before his very eye. He didn't hold back his smile at the man, his tail boomed with speed as joy enveloped him. "Hola, gruñón. Lovely day, is it not?" He noticed being ignored at first, and it amused him so. It seems Cortes made his first friend. How perfect! His tail thrashed a bit and he watched the young male intently before turning to watch the gray male for his response.
(14:47:18) Yusef was awake! And everybody knew when he woke because god forbig he actually forget to tell everybody. Despite Big squir--eeeerrrr. Pos..sum? catch yesterday, he was hungry again. Maybe because he was a quickly growing babbens! In any case, he tore out of the den, a little bolt of grey and white fury that would have made the marshmallow brothers proud. He had wrapped the discarded tail around his neck and shoulder like a giant, fleshy scarf, and he had neglected to clean or bathe the past few days and so blood clung to his fur and flesh. He skidded to a stop when he saw the adults, and tried to remember what he'd been told. ...Sometimes help was good. Sometimes affection was good. And Yus, despite how similar to the full grown tsar's he may have been, was inheretly a loving creature. He skittered over to Zod first, and even though he was still WICKEDLY furious at the male for biting his head, he gave him an affectionate heatbutt before skittering over to Pisc and raising his little paws to bat at her butt. YOU STILL GOT A TAIL. Imma take it one day! And then he rather gleefully pranced towards Drak, wriggling his butt-nubbin. They matched, they matched! He was always so excited to be the one that MATCHED! But...Hm. Now there was - someone else- that matched. He pushed himself between Drak's legs and gazed wide-eyed at Cort. He was jealous! This...this guy just came along and played with daddy then showed his tummy and - automatically-, he gets to match?! He didn't even play with Yus! He puffed out his cheeks a little, mildly upset Yusef was also jealous that THIS guy got to accept help, but Yus didn't! Really, no help at all! Who helped HIM when HE got his ears and tail eaten, huh? HUH?! Nobody! (Sorry Zod. He'll never know.) Yusef Jealousy-pants. With a huff, he stared up at Drak,"....I vant to go get fuudz. Who come?"
(15:14:07) Drakov: Rump settled down to the earth, alittle relieved to be frank. Though there was much to be settled here, atleast this wasn't another ridiculous cocky fuck sauntering in and staking claims. PFFT! No no, Drak quit liked this fellow already, but only time would tell if that opinion stuck. Pisc's quick to join the others company was met with a twitch of ear tufts, alittle unexpecting of the womans presence what with how skittish she'd been since her joining. Proposal was given a blink of eyes, almost looking stupidly at the girl, but he caught himself. It wasn't intentional after all! Simply, he was still getting used to having a little slave around as much so as she was adapting to BEING one. Usually bitches were just fucking killed! There was no lingering around and earning your keep if the brothers claimed you irrelivent to existance. Hell, to be honest. If not for Vad's seemingly interest in the girls desire to learn, he probubly would have killed her! Let's see now if brother was right to keep the women. Drak had no doubt in his younger siblings gut, but strangers? Hrm. Oh the confliction. Tilt of head was offered to the girl, in both greeting and acceptance of her offering. "Da. If you would. I struggled to clean mine wound." Pfft. Had he thought about just having her do it from the get go it woulda saved him the struggle this morning! Hohum! "Sank you." Sights drifted back to Cort and his questions of the pack, as was to be expected. "Zod vill-" Just as explaination began, so showed up the man he spoke of. Convenient. Nub of a tail swayed mildly, as chuckle errupted from within. "Oh Zod.. Just fight him already von't you?" Harhar. What was hilarious about it all was Drak's tone made it seem as though the brown yearling had a fan-girl crush! Like he needed to just ask Cort out already and be done with it! HA. Not entirely accurate, but the jist was there. "Zod iz here to help teach zey new comers, though I do not mind elaborating." Throwing the job on Zod.. while... relieving as it was to not have to constantly repeat himself.. was mostly for the boys on sake. To aid others was a chance for him to succeed. "Ve are Vechnyy. Immortals." Russian name came out in a deeper accent than the rest of his words. Anytime he spoke his true tongue it seemed more deifned. "I am Drakov, und.. Mine Brat, und I. Vadimir. Ze von who accepted you in, we are ze Tsar's of Vechnyy. Kings. Ve grew up in a world of fighting, where only ze strong survive. Zis is what our pack is. Zos willink to fight for who zey are, und what zey want. We, Ze Tsar's, are hear to teach and guide zos who wish to learn. Und wean out ze weak." Most typed out explaining ive done so far harhar. "Mine Brat und I. We 'ave always thrown down our lives for one annosser. So we do ze same for ze pack, for ze ones who prove worth our flesh und blood." No tighter a bond of family than that. Ya know.. Once you got over the whole trying to rip your face off thing. But in the boys minds there was just cause for it! What good were you? To them, to the pack? If you couldnt even take care of yourself. To rise, and be deemed worthy of the brothers protection, loyalty, and life. You had to have just as much to offer up in return. Hopefully all this, if not already fully sunk in to the poor beaten yearling, would be now. Because HA. You get to explain it too. Kee. Yus's presence had been unnoticed during his mini-rant. But once a good breather was taken, and sights would sift to the lad and the almost demandment for food. "Food sounds good, da? Vhat you 'ave in mind, Yus?" Leave the reins to the child, he clearly seemed like he had this shit down. Let's see what he'd come up with.
Zodiak's eyes cooly shifted to cortes as he greeted him. The skin along the bridge of his muzzle would twitch. The hell did you just call me?!! He'd supress a growl, focusing completely on the brute as he mentally shanked him with his fangs. Sudden realization of name spoken by the Tsar caught him completely off guard. Expression shifted to suprise as he looked to drak. A light smirk crossed his features and he'd nod to drak, rising to all fours to shake himself off one good time. His side still hurt, but that pain would only amp his anger in the long run. Slowly, he made his approach to the dude feeling rather confident about fighting him. His reason being that drak and vad were like gods in his eyes; no one could fight better than them, and if he could take them on and live (regardless of if they just let him) then he'd have no problem dealing with whatever this wolf had. Other things played into his eagerness to fight: the delay of his fight with vad, the need to protect his rank, and whatever that god-forsaken scent in the air was (seriously he was going nuts and wasn't sure if he needed to kill something or hump it). He'd press into the males space, good side and shoulder sliding against his as he circled--well wrapped himself around the brute, hugging close to him as tail flicked past his nose. "sizing him up" as they called it. When he came to a stop he was on the brutes other side, neck arched and head high. Zod was but a step forward from the spot where their front legs would line up, eyes gazing sideways at him as tail had reacted in reflex and was tall and swaying. Single derp ear was sharply pressed forward as a heavy growl rumbling in his chest. "Vad may have let you stay... but you have not earned the right to call yourself Vechnyy...Prove me wrong..." he ended as lips peeled back to bare fangs.
(16:38:22) Cinnema had yet to meet the man that Vadimir had fought and bested, as well as realize that he was now a part of the pack. After that danger had passed she'd slept and had somewhat lost track of everyone else after, the seemingly constant threats that were lingering driving her to go do something that redirected the tension shooting through her body. So the queen spent a little time patrolling the territory which turned into exploring, swimming, and terrorizing and scouting a herd that was quite a distance away from the den. A small meal would be found in a recently abandoned carcass, before eventually she returned to the river to swim and bathe. Relaxation and venting were necessary to help get her into a better mindset to deal with new people showing up. After all, she did still have problems with adapting to new people. She hadn't even gotten used to Zod yet! At her own leisure Cinnema would finally have dried her thick fur from washing in the river and return to the pack. Eyes cast about the present creatures, noticing immediately the little soldier boy sizing up the unfamiliar Spaniard in the courtyard. She tensed for a minute as she approached before noticing others sitting about nearby, as well as the wounds upon Cortes' face. Aah, so he was a part of them now? Then it made sense why the others were so unconcerned. She would still be wary as eyes scanned over her present child and landed on Drakov and the slave Pi quite close. Cin's green gaze would narrow a little, nostrils flaring at the scent in the air. What. Why was she so close to him. Of course not bringing the possibility he could be wounded into the equation, why should she? She had a very unpleasant feeling that was making itself known as she looked upon the situation. Forget thinking about the reasoning, she just knew that she was not pleased. With little tact she would stride up with a dominant air, tail level with spine, and come to stand by, or more likely almost between, the two.Nice, Cin, very smooth and calm. "Hello, dears," she'd say with deceptive calm voice, stare nearly fixed on the female as she would tilt her head to touch the Tsar's neck and make no obvious motion to move away. Hehee. Possessive/jealous muchh?
Cortés choked back his laughter when the male known as Drakov spoke. And Vadimir was his Master. He nodded absently at the information, and only when the words 'grew up in a world of fighting,' did he add in his own two cents. "I too grew up in such ways. la vida era, es, una batalla. Yo el ganador." He paused thinking back on the days within the ring. He remembered the barbed wire, the makeshift fencing and the loud cheering of drunken men. He remembered the blood that would splatter against the ground and men, some of them even wearing plastic to protect their clothing. He even remembered when the losing animal was on it's last death throes, they'd be taken out back, and a loud bang would be heard. He never knew what exactly happened to them, but he knew fr certain that he never would see them again. Cortes cleared his throat as his flashback dissipated. The rest of the words were taken in stride, occasionally he'd nod and feel a strong sense of belonging to the group. This was home now. He'd enjoy the time he spent here. Cortes then would turn his skull at the Tsar's joke. Though he was sure the man was completely serious. He moved then to stand, rolling his shoulders in the process. It may have seemed like hours past, but in actuality, it was mere seconds, and though he had just awoken moments before, he was ready to shoot from his position unto the male named Zod. He didn't wish to give time for the man to react and examine him as he wished, so the moment the man moved from his position, Cortes quickly used his back feet to propel him from his sitting position, his jaws pried open to get at the man's face, particularly where the snout. He'd try to bring his upper jaw to catch either the middle of the man's snout, to hold his skull in place, or catch the upper part of his snout toward the eye, depending on how fast the man would move, and sink his teeth deep, while maliciously shaking his head like a pit bull. Those days in the ring taught him a thing or two. If for some reason he missed his mark entirely, he'd still be moving forward in a velocity that rivaled a train. Though frankly, he'd be surprised if he managed to get so close, yet move so far away in a span of seconds. Cortes had lunged himself as well, limbs went outstretched, hoping to bear hug the man using his body as a blunt force object. Almost like a football player upon his opponent. Cortes didn't growl, snarl, or make a peep, other than an oof upon contact. He didn't need to intimidate anyone. Unlike a bullfighter, he rather would aim for the kill, than entice the bull. He didn't care for anyone around him, as they were faded into the background.
(16:51:56) Popov was clearly sick. What used to be puppy fat was now distended, bloated belly full of nothing but bile and gas. That churning emptiness accepted no solid food without vomitting back up what should have been useful nutrients. Man, not having the Mom- mobile for an easy meal majorly sucked. Speaking of the Mom-mobile, there she was. Seperation from her, or rather, her teats was an emotional time for the pup, but Yusef's tail ripping seemed to have stopped the foolish boy from crying. Quiet as a church mouse, the knobby kneed (not so) fatass meandered over to Cinnema. Not a scrap of understanding was imparted on the apparent, romantic claim his mother was making on Drakov, as there were other, far more important matters to be tended to. Bumping his head into her heel, Poppy looked up and bared his teeth; something far more akin to Joker's smile than a demand for anything (Yusef would need to get on that).
(17:06:16) Drakov: INTAKE OF BREATH. No more talking now ok? Or atleast. The bare minimum. Yes, much appreciate. And oh. Even better. A SHOW! Dare he admit he wasn't expecting it to boil down to it so soon! WOOH. Haunches shifted, forcing him to bounce like a bunny backwards to put a sizeable amount of distance between the outbreak before him. GoGoGo. Shit... This meant he'd have to wait even longer for his turn. SIGH. He could just charge in guns a blazin right after, but what kind of sport was that to go against an injured enemy!? Even if he was mildly injured himself. PFFT. Unaccepted. Cort had to be in prestine condition! Drak would settle for nothing less. As rump came to find home again, settling on the earth in a propped onlooking sit, Cin's arrival, and more specifically, contact caused him to jump just a tad. Oh hi. The enjoyment he got out of watching a good fight was ridic.. Course it didnt compare to actually being APART of the spar. Ohwell. EVENTUALLY. Cin's possessive affections were not noted as such, only that of greeting. It caused nub of a tail to sway mildly behind him, as chin pressed into her skull. Tongue slicking awkwardly out to glide across her head and ears. Bit by bit. He was becoming more accepting of how he felt about the girl, even though he had no idea what it was. It was there. It made him want to show affection he only ever shared with Vad. "Avternoon." Lip would curl in a toothy grin, more derp than anything else but given who it was it was kinda creepy. Stahp Drak. Just as soon as smile came, it deminished, once sights honed in on the movement of one particular sickly creature strolling it's way over. Brows furrowed, and his toothy smirk changed to a toothy growl without sound. "What iz zis thing? Nossing like ze ozzers." Pale beast would snort as head craned down to inspect the pathetic lad. "Pfft. He's not even worth eating anymore." Judgemental tone rolled out at the same time nose shoved into the kids side knock him over for the sole sake of seeing if he even had the ability to stay standing. Welp. He wasn't expecting them all to live. Hell, he was shocked so many had survived this long.
Zodiak hadn't expected the brute to come charging towards him the way he did. For a while he thought the guy didn't have it in him. hmm. Fun fun. Brain sparked and rapidly evaluated situation. He'd meet the train head on! As the brute neared him zod would lunge into him left shoulder meeting his right. In that moment jaws were parted and thrust in his direction to meet oncoming canines with a clack of muzzles like dueling swords. He tried to remember not only lessons taught but mistakes made in the past and would strive to protect himself this battle, fight as if drak and vad were stringing his moves like a puppet. Fear fled his mind as it had been present in past fights. He was no longer a pup, his mass had doubled and his mind had matured--then there was that scent..that oh so GLORIOUS scent that lingered not far from him. It gave him chills like nails on a chalkboard that made him wanna rip somebody's throat out-- preferably Cortes'. In clash of chest and fang and in the approach that opponent had taken, zod felt himself forced to half rise onto hinds to brace the impact and match limbs that tried to wrap around him. He'd slam his own forelimb against the neck of the brute as jaws continued to spar and if firm ground was granted he'd lunge bite force deeper between sword strikes to aim for the space just behind where ear and jaw met. He aimed to snag the tender region and if successful he'd bite down with a growl and thrash head and upper body side to side with anger, fury, and hatetred boiling inside. He'd have to remember to calm himself, one thing drak had told him in their first match. He wouldn't allow his testosterone to get the better of him, but he'd use it as a fuel to deliver painful blows.
(17:48:05) Piscean. After recieving the okay from the Tsar, Pi went to work on cleaning is hard-to-reach wounds, wondering how he got them. Oh well, it was no buisness of hers. The gal's mind had wandered off, as usual, and the action and happenings around her had become nothing but background noise. That was, until Drakov jumped up, excited bout something. It was then Pi realized a fight was going to occur. So she too took interest. Perhaps by observing, she could learn a bit about fighting herself, and how her opponent fought. Her gaze was locked onto the two men, head cocked, interested and alert. If she had ears still, they certainly would've been more perked. This was exciting to Pisces, the fight that she had witnessed before between the Tsar and Cortes was, and she could only imagine how this went. At the time, Pisces had no idea about the importance and affect this battle would have on the heirarchy and pack dynamics, but she would leaern these things in due time. For now, she would observe. That is, until the Tsarista came into veiw. Pi hadn't noticed her position by that Tsar, and despite hor hormones and physical state, her first thought wasn't around the idea that it could possibly threaten the queen's relation with Drakov. So when she approached, Pi shrunk a bit at the glare, more hurt than afraid. Why had the queen become upset with her out of the blue? Had she done something wrong? All Pi wanted was for her to accept and like her. Confused and a bit hurt, the gal backed up. "Hello." She said quietly, head down avoiding eye contact. In the gal's mind she thought she had done something bad to make the queen dislike her, and she would have to make it up to her some how. Of course, the gal completely disregarded the fact that her being heat could've made Cin jealous, but then Pisces was a bit ignorant of these things and more concerned about making others happy.
(17:57:50) Cinnema would pause a moment as her appearance seemed to startle Drakov, but as he responded to her rather possessive greeting she'd be pleased, insert little tail wag and tongue flicking to his muzzle after he'd licked her head. Yep good, just scootch right on in here between them casually since everything was okay and the slave didn't matter. Weird ass woman. Couldn't give a name to whateverthiswas between them and yet it was totally unacceptable for Pisces to be emitting such a scent and be sitting close to Drak. Green eyes would shift to notice the mutt shrinking back from her looks, ears pressing forward and gaze staring for a moment, before she turned her head to see Popov emerging from the den like a sack of bloated bones. Ew. Cin would seem a little surprised at the appearance of the sick kid, wondering how on earth he'd managed to get into such a state. Because they were all such great parents! How could it be? Not that. The mother gave her children hardly any attention after it had been decreed they would be cut off from milk and gone straight to food. Her gaze followed Drakov as he wandered to it and would then likely push him over. "I'm surprised he's even alive, being that sick." If Drak wanted to eat little Popov?.. Oh well. Not that, as he'd said, the kid was worth eating. Lest he want to get sick probably. A snort would utter through her nostrils, tilting her head for a moment in thought before Cin would turn to keep a stern eye on Pi. Yes stay right there and away, good. Likely any movement at present would cause her to snap and pin the mutt to the ground, just because she could. Hmph.
(17:59:01) Popov recognized Drakov's tone only as something directed at him. In his experience, it was not the Russian accent you needed to pay attention to, it was the beating that came after. To this point, the poor boy had been used as everything from a beanbag to a buoy by his father, and all to no improvement of the youngster's toughness. But all was not lost. Yusef, the newly annointed messiah, was proving a positive (or was it negative?) role model for the brainless cronie. For example! His brother had taught him that when you don't like something, you don't bitch about it...you beat the shit out of it. And, well, wisely or not, Drakov jabbing his nose into the child's already distended stomach was not appreciated. Rather than roll and tumble away from the momentum, which is what he really wanted to do (it was just easier, he was tired), the sickly lad latched onto the aggitator's snout with teeth, claws, and whatever else he could stick into him. If that didn't scream stop that! what would? Unbeknownst to Poppy, this first vengeful act of his might actually have said more than that. He had potential, it was just the slow blooming, "back of the class" kind. Milk teeth had developed to meat teeth, but still maintained their puppy sharpness, which meant a prick enough to draw blood. Popov loved blood. Zodiak knew that, he had seen it when the child frolicked in the rabbit's dripping entrails like Carrie at prom. It was one small detail of this otherwise unimpressive babe that proved he had some of his father's cut-throat-ness bred in him. Sucking on that minute wound like a fucking four legged vampire, the kid would remain fixed there until his parent likely flung him off. But despite the pain, despite the hunger, he stood again. He wanted more. He was hungry. "Food," Popov spoke at last. "Now," he added, as he had heard Yusef demand time and time again. This time it wouldn't be leftovers. And Cinnema? Well shit, she was useless too. Fuck them. Fuck both of them. He would remember. He was writing it all down in that little black book of a mind of his. You better run for cover when this pup grows up.....
(18:18:01) Drakov: Unbenounced to him, not only was there a a fight to behad right before his eyes, but fucking Cin and Pisc were on the verge of throwing hands. Even if one half of the party was as oblivious as he was. Not to mention a certain aroma had yet to hit his nostrils up until he'd leaned down to address his scrawny little spawn. Nostrils flared, but before realization could even kick in, his nosing antics were nabbed ahold of by teeth and claw. Tail stiffed out and up, instinctive more than anything else, matched only by immediate parting of teeth. Head jerked forward, rather than swing him about, effectively rolling the once-lard onto his back only to shove his top half onto the ground. Not in a slam of any sort, but instead to gain access to his rear end. Part teeth aimed to clasp around childs leg. The momment teeth pricked boney limb, head swung up not so pleasantly. Boy was lucky he didn't break the damned thing. Then, what goes up, must come down. Despite the children still being plenty small throw around with little effort, father-of-year wanted this to hurt like bloody hell. So mommentum required to sling him up, was then used to yank him right back down. Smashing the boney boy smack on his back on the ground. "Food now?!" Did-What? He almost looked to Cin, like did he really just ask that? Or was... Was Drak imagining things!? Lip curled, and finally a sound echoed out. Deep, long, and liable to shake the bloody earth! It took a lot to not slaughter the fucker right there. The sole fact he'd rather watch it suffer, as horrible as that was, was the only thing preventing it. With a clack of teeth, he lashed out in a fury. Shredding away the boys tail and ears none to swifty. Any retaliation, to which after that little incident, he simply assumed, was met with a violent sling of jaws to crack againt his face. Only once appendages we detatched, instead replaced by blood pooling out, would Drak shift to clasp hold of the boys skull and toss him away from 'mother-dearest'. No. No more fucking life-support. "Fucking child. You get nossing!!! Feed yourself." PFFT. His patience for the boy had all but vanished. Made clear by forcibly shifting gaze back to Cin and Pisc. DAMN KIDS GRUMBLE. Atleast Yus was good.. Yes... Yus. SIGH. What a horrible mix. Notice a bitch is in heat, then have your testosterone shoot through the roof over something like this? Eyetwitch. Body pressed into Cin's frame, a peculiar sense of affection he'd never even had occur before. Nub of a tail flicked behind him, as chin glided across the pale womans spin. Displeasure still evident due to his irritated deep breathing.
(18:37:18) Piscean kept her distance, not wantign to fuck with the queen, cause hello, death sentence And well, she figured if the Queen was pissed, Drak wouldn't eve nblink about taking her out. It looked like he was itching to get the energy out, waht with the excitement over the impending fight between Zod and Cortes. So Pi contented to stay back and wtch the happenings. Not much else she coudl do fro now. Then the sickly pup emerged. Oh boy. Pisces had been around long enough, just a few days, to realize the pups would get fucking smacked about for just showing weakness, and being ill. To deman food though? Damn. God luck with that. As if predicting the moment herself, Drak went and fucking rekt the kid. Pis just sat behind watching, at this point used to the bloodshed in the pack. Oh well, nothing one could do. The pups were clearly on their own. And in her current state, Pi couldn't give the least shits about em. She was more focused on scratchign that mating itch, and keeping her superiors pleased. Unintentional suck up, she was. But you gotta do what ya gotta do to survive, and Pi was intent on doing so.
(18:41:11) Cinnema. The fur along her spine bristled as the kid unexpectedly latched onto his father's face in defiance of being pushed. She hadn't expected a sick thing like that to be able to retaliate, or even have the will to. But how could she have guessed, having spent no time with hardly any of her kids save Yusef? Oohh this was not going over well, she already knew before Drak started in on the kid. She fully expected that her litter would be lacking a child in moments. And surprise if he actually hadn't been killed, but as the kid was tossed aside and big marshmallow came back over to her she cast it aside from her mind. She was slightly concerned by the level of irritation currently going through him, as mostly she'd ever seen him a deadly calm sort of anger and never like this. She almost felt the need to sooth him somehow, but how she could didn't come to her easily. Cin would lean into him slightly as he pressed himself against her, turning her head to attempt to lick any blood from his fur with a few nuzzles maybe. Woman was a little bit freaked by the show of anger, but it was okay, shh the child is maimed now, you can relax my sweet. Pi being all but ignored as well and just focusing on Drak with his bad mood. Let the smelly woman and sick child stay away and all was good! Right?
(18:49:00) Cortés's attack somehow didn't hold, and instead of getting the face, he got the teeth. A stalemate it seemed. However, with his body literally lunging forward, the force of having a limb against his neck wasn't forgotten, and quite frankly wasn't enough to slow his momentum. However with the man's arm pressing against his neck, the only logical thing was, go for the arm. Without warning, Cortes used the stalemate, pushing his jaws to swing against the other's, hoping to slide from teeth right into flesh and bone. If it took hold, he'd grip the appendage, his teeth working to press down deep, and then twist low like the motion of an Indian burn, towards the opposite direction of the man's body. Almost unnatural in it's movement. If the man didn't fall, then certainly his limb would at least break from it's socket with the action, or at the very least bring; something had to give, for he wasn't letting go. Pain and another stinging sensation was felt upon his face, and old wounds-opened with the excursion. Felt like bliss.
(19:09:42) Zodiak's teeth hit their mark and head would thrash. Blood: it flowed into his mouth like thick hot honey, releasing a sensation he'd never felt before. He'd gotten the taste for what seemed like the first time. Addrenaline shot and a light chill of pleasure washed over him. Is this why the Tsar enjoyed it so much? The taste seemed almost taboo and he wanted more. Pain would strike his forelimb exposed to the brute. Shit! lost in his moment of bliss he'd left his own leg vulnerable. He'd chomp at the spot between jaws, attempting to drive fangs deeper into flesh but the pain the male was causing became too much and he broke his grip with a snarl, spitting the brutes own blood at his cheek. Body would slip from him some, but not all the way as fangs lunged again for his cheek so graciously exposed and begging for fangs to tear into. There were healing scars already present so double bonus if the brute didn't pull away before fangs hit their mark. If they did, he'd repeat the process of thrashing, heavy bellows rumbling from his chest. The pain searing in his leg drove his actions; violent without mercy. He knew he'd regret not removing himself, that leg was going to hurt, but for now, bring on the pain
(19:31:52) Cortés's own mouth held bits of flesh and blood. Though he didn't bother spitting it out, no. That would take precious time, and it was time he wanted. So When the man slipped away, and took the time to do his spitting, Cortes would fling himself forward and lower his head at the same time. Then within the last second of contact, his head shot upward in an uppercut like fashion, jaws opened wide in a massive yawn until flesh connected with teeth. Previous bits of flesh and blood sprung out like a raining volcano, his lips crimson in it's wake. His aim was to grab the throat, and bring him sprawling unto his back like a make shift suplex. The very move that Vad had tried to do unto him. Cortes would them make sis legs would push against the earth as hard as he could, to use his own body like a wrecking ball; dead weight would attempt to push to connect with the other, so that if he wasn't bringing the man down, then they were hopefully both sprawling. Pain did seep into his body though, that wasn't ignored, his head was on fire. Every inch of his upper body burned, and his breathing labored. He hadn't been in the best condition with this fight, having just had his face torn about. It hurt like damn hell. Either way, this fight wasn't going to end until one of them either passed out or gave up.
(20:56:10) Zodiak. in lunging for the cheek he was met by the brute releasing his leg to bite at his throat. In protective reflex, zod would quickly turn muzzle down to block resulting in several scrapes across his maw as fangs collided with the thin flesh that guarded precious canines. Being in his upright position, the force of the male colliding with him sent him back a few steps and he quickly moved to regain steps, favoring slightly on the injured leg before looking to him with a smirk. Nice one man. Pushing through the pain he'd move forward with a swish of his tail; at first at a trot before he slowed to a lope as his leg would not alow such sporatic jogging. He circled cortes and collected himself, calming the rage so he could better evaluate the situation. "Come on old man.... Tired already?" he'd ask cruely as he veered around to face right flank. Without hesitation he'd lunge forward and quickly close the distance of a few paces between them aiming to somewhat use vads training against him. His objective was to broad-side ram the bastard. If alloted the seconds to get within range he'd push off with hind legs, front limbs lifting slightly as chest aimed to slam into his side while parted jaws aimed for his scruff. If the contact alone (being successful) knocked him over he'd snag up the scruff on the side of his neck; a thick but important muscle that would furthur hinder his abilities. Paws would aim to hold head out of reach while he mutilated whatever flesh jaws could grasp. Going back, if the knock down failed, it'd be an all out spar again and if the brute aimed to bite at his side, he'd quickly turn to deal damage to his face.
(21:13:28) Cortés would have smiled in the moment if he had the chance to do so. He was enjoying himself. This was like the good ol' days. He was in the ring. Everything faded and the illusion of his prime brought his own boost of power. It was like he could hear the cheers within the stands. The drunken men chanting his ring name. Conquistador! Everything was happening fast, within mere seconds. First he had the arm, then he didn't. His face was in slashed open, gashes, and blood oozed, whether his own or a mixture of his opponent. But now, now it would all end. At least, that was the hope. His aim continued strong, he didn't relent or move from his trajectory, because unfortunately, once he got going, he couldn't stop. His mouth remained open like a Venus fly trap, and he a fly. Crimson rained down as his jaws moved to connect with the man's face, specifically toward the area in which housed the precious eyes upon the man before him. Excitement brought him to near implosion. He wanted them. He wanted to pluck those eyeballs straight from it's school. Eerily though, he didn't cry out like a warrior would. He remained silent, refusing to speak his piece until he was indeed the winner, or if he became the loser. When the man moved, he could only wait if his fang pierced the soft jelly-like ball as he went to circle Cortes.
(21:18:41) Drakov: Tongue slicked across bloodied.. fleshy + fur filled teeth as sights lingered on the boy and his departure. Pathetic little fuck. Where had he been? He lacked the same knowledge, understanding, overall development?! WHY?! Because he was snooping about the den for scraps, hoarding milk while it lasted. Pfft. That's what you fucking get. Fish wouldn't be provided forever, eventually you'd have to make the choice to LEARN to fish for yourself or perish. It seems he chose perishing, to stubborn and persistant in the idea of being spoon fed to grow the fuck up. No matter.. The boy was quickly dispersed from his mind in favor of other ideals. More specifically, .... uhem. Peculiar as all get out, was Drak's almost obccessive affections. Though sights found themselves shifting to there little care taker in heat, he was capable enough to resist her. Cin on the other hand? Cough. The mass amounts of tension and adrenaline filling the atmosphere forced Drak's paw. BUT HE WAS A GOOD BOY YES. Not that it dawned on him, really. His only deteration of the seasoned woman was the idea of more.. Popov's.. Gross. What good would children with someone so unworthy bring? So instead he focused hormonal attentions on Cin and her attempt at soothing. Soothing in a way you were not expecting, eh Cin? Paws rose to hug the woman as chin glided acrossed her shoulders blades, lip curling so that tongue could slick out yet again to moisten his dry nose. Assuming Cin didn't retort, or complain, pale bastard would get his rocks off in a shockingly less aggressive way than the first go around. Mostly because she lacked that pumping aroma, but then again Pisc made up for it. Plus, he seemed utterly certain no fighting was to be had. SO NOW WE GOT A FIGHT GOIN' ON AND THE HUMPTY HUMP. What a gorgeous day it is.
(21:29:41) Piscean just watched the happenings as they went la la la. It seemed she waasn't the only one with raging hormones, of another sort, but still hormones. Blah. The Tsar's behavior was porbably only somewhat influenced by Pi's own pheremones. Good job, ho. When he mounted Cin, Pi made sure to back the fuck up and away, cause her presence wasn't making cin happy in the slightest- and if she moved any muscle the wrong way, she ws fraid she'd set either (or both) of them off and on her In an agression sense, anyways. So the mutt just decided to back the fuck away and watch the fight cause bruh, not fuckin with that right now nah. Feelin awkward, Pi just, tried to ignore the humping by her and look focused on the battle ahead.
(21:41:56) Zodiak lowered his head to guard his throat and had never thought about the dangers of fangs to his face. Muzzle; meh no problem get over it. However, these fangs weren't headed for his muzzle, they were headed for his eye, his oh so beautiful eye. In his position there was not much he could do but snarl as fangs penetrated the oh-so-sensitive socket. The pain...was bananas. A high pitched cry echoed out that trailed into a nasty snarl as head was pulled away leaving the canine fang to rake through the skin beneath his eye. Confusion flooded his mind as all vision to the left went black; it threw him off but still he tried to go for the male best he could. Head would twist toward him, jaw parted as he sent fangs to snap down on the brutes muzzle. He was done, SO FUCKING DONE with this god damn spaniard. His aim was to latch firmly over his entire mouth, closing jaws between his own and placing a heavy amount of pressure against both jaw and nasal passages to both inflict pain and reduce oxygen. If and when he'd grabbed ahold of him, muscles would flex and he'd push hard toward cortes, rage beyond beleif flooding him as he wanted nothing more than to throw him to the dirt. lack of oxygen was sure to make him weak enough to give way to the young bloods weight as all of it was thrown into the action. If he fell, zod would come crashing down and continue to hold his vice grip. All logic left him, all that swarmed his mind now was revenge. MY EYE YOU TOOK MY EYE ILL MAKE YOU PAY. Jaws would clench in attempt to tighten grip and he'd hold him till he ceased breath.
(22:02:33) Cortés would have landed the hit, and with it, a lovely gem. It was like slow motion. His fang sank deep within the socket, scooping along the inside until a pop was heard, and the eyeball literally stuck to his tooth. He quickly clamped down, pulling downward as the tendons and tissue connecting the eye to the head tore apart. His prize was kept firmly within his jaws. However when the newly eyeless man decided to close his jaw over Cortes entire mouth, Cortes would not back away, but instead move forward, jabbing his own snout further into the man's mouth. He would then open his own mouth, the pain from doing so excruciating. With effort, he'd allow the eyeball to drop from his own jaws, like a marble following a path, and straight into the man's throat. If possible. There were many possibilities of what could happen. Most likely he could either swallow the object, choke, or loosen his hold. So much for keeping his prize though, if all went according to plan. He wanted to present it as a trophy to his Maestro. Instead, it would be turned into feces, unless it was spit out in time.
(22:05:17) Cinnema was not good at the whole comfort thing. Affection and these big marshmallows were not..things that generally you thought of together. So it wasn't surprising when she wasn't sure what the heck to do to get his mind of the child? Still, he'd come to her, and that made her happy, as she glanced sidelong over at little Pisces while giving gentle licks and trying to be helpful. Yea bitch, mine. Of course Cin didn't have anything against her, no! She just was stinking up the place for now and so she momentarily wanted her gone. Yeap. Go figure Drakov had other 'soothing' things in mind, and none that the pale woman was expecting. Momentarily tensing at unexpected weight being shifted, she'd relax rather quickly. I mean..nothing she'd thought of, but.. whatever. Ha! A borderline curious glance would be shot back at him briefly before a smirk came about her features. Aight, boy, whatever you say. Frankly he'd been king in her eyes for quite some time before they'd made the pack 'official' and he didn't need a real title for her to be willing to follow whatever bloody path he'd lead 'em on. Sick and twisted as that was, the man who had pushed her away from following anyone oh so many years ago was now the dark sun she orbited around. Meaning she was quite okay with what he was doing, and was actually coming to realize such. Hohum, acknowledging feelings was not a great thing. However the snarls and screeches from the fight going on nearby made their way to her ears, a symphony of blood, and Cin's attention was torn over to the crimson-seeking combatants. Uh oh, this wasn't looking good. Not that Zod could look because his eye had just been ripped out OOPS *cough*.
(22:18:54) Zodiak didn't come crashing down as expected, but his grip held true and a heavy growl surged from the depths of his lungs. However it was cut short as cort pushed his maw farther into his mouth, forcing jaws to part slightly. He'd hold his grip to allow teeth to scrape skin but he was finding the position rather uncomfortable. Paw lashed out to push him away as another growl echoed forth, of which was also cut off as small marble-like object rolled smoothly down his tonue to lodge itself in his throat. Zod stiffened and spasmed for a moment, series of cough and hacking reflexes forcing their way through still clenched jaws but the object wouldn't dislodge itself. The reflex was triggered again; stronger this time as he felt the burning in his gut and yet the object held strong. WTF no no ugh.... Final hacking reflex would cause stomach contents to rise in an effort to push the object from behind. Bile and partially digested meat and organs surged up his throat, carrying the eye with it. The thick, liquid mess spewed from his throat into his mouth to crash into the nostrils of the brute he held tighly before surging out the front and side of his jaws and finally some traveling up and out his own nostrils. The gem would land amongs the mess on the ground and grip would be released as zod trailed off a few paces shaking his head to fling vomit from his mouth and nostrils. He'd stop and stand there panting heavily. Shit. Fuck. God damnit. Eyes would glare to the male and he'd turn towards him, lip curled to bare wretch-stained fangs, chest heaving in and out to recalibrate body functions after total evacuation. Single paw would step forward, the boy still wanting to fight.
(22:32:34) Drakov: Humpity hump hump. How gawdy of you Drak. Couldn't atleast drag her to the den all BRB AFK. No. Instead he chose to watch the brawl while fullfilling his desires. Even more satisfied by Cin's acceptable of it all. But of course all good things had to come to an end eventually! Just as he'd finished up, and found himself in a lock with the queen, Zod's screams and wretching snapped the Tsar into action. Fighting was all good, encouraged, required even! But unless a mothafucker really needed to die, the King was not game for it. Besides. Niether side seemed prepared to yield. Without thinking, Drak jerked of of Cin's side, paws aiming to propel him forward made clear by his hollering Russian accent to cease the actions. "Enou-!!" BUT NOPE! Shoulda slowed ya rolled there Drak. Instead of making contact with earth where he'd anticipated, his knotted state left him tripping face forward to slam against the ground. Talk about mother fucking fail. Rather than be binded for another 10 minutes as was the norm, if not more, his faceplant ripped the two apart and left a deep seeded rageful growl echoing out. AKJBNFJSHBDKSJHDBSLJHBDKJHBSDKJHBSDJKSHDB <-- Drak's brain. Grumbling as he was, the pale bastard didn't move for a momment. Seconds drolling by that felt like stinging hours considering his junk didn't feel to good in the slightest. PFFT! The point of that was to make him feel better!! SIGH. With a deep inhale, he finally rolled to his feet, attempting to brush off what had just occured as tongue flicked to spit out blood dribbling from gums mixed with dirt. Right... Where were we... "Enough you two.. Know ven to admit defeat Zod. You can alvays fight again anosser time." LADEDA. Casual, typical attitude.
(23:07:56) Cinnema wasn't sure exactly why Zodi had gone after Cortes so furiously in the first place but now they were all beaten up and he lost an eye for it. Damnit kid, that's what you get for picking fights a lot, as if he wasn't disfigured enough already. Meanwhile she was distracted as Drak having finished up focused on the fighting that seemed to come to what could be a brief standstill. Eyes widened as she saw him start to move, mouth not opening quick enough to stop him from face-planting into the ground and pulling the two apart. Talk about hurt. A high pitched bark echoed from her throat, cringing and swiftly turning herself away and tucking tail as if that would help. Hey man, that was not part of the deal!! Geezz. Eugh. Cin's eyes squinted at him as he got himself up and proceeded to walk over to the dueling males as if he was all fine and good. Well fine; she'd follow for a moment, choosing to walk up and touch nose to his cheek. And open jaws to snap and pull at the flesh there briefly and only to hurt a little, just like WOW K THX. A little nudge and lick a moment later, still luv u bby, before she would make herself scarce, quite uninterested in the blood and gore painting the center of their home and retreating to take a fucking bath again. Too much stress in one place hnnng back to the river.
(23:14:41) Cortés felt hot liquid smack across his face. His eye socket probably being filled with bile. He watched as the boy gagged and and brought himself t finish puking whatever he within his system. Which was probably nothing since in reality, it was still mid morning to early evening. Had breakfast even begun? Cortes took then to smile, his mouth filling with blood and puke. He didn't bother doing much else though, speaking was for a winner. He wasn't a winner yet. As the man continued to gag or whatever it was he did, Cortes would move unrelenting forward in an attempt to bring the boy down. He wasn't done until the boy submitted or perished. That was how he grew up. That was how the world had been painted for him. You lived to fight within the ring again, and the defeated would disappear or die at his feet. Of course, things were different in a pack. Rules prevailed, despite him growing within a lawless world. However the crying out from another brought him to snap from the haze of the fight, making the illusion of the fighter's ring fade from existence. The images of rowdy men drinking from bottles, and the bloodstained mat upon the ground quickly turned into a recently sexed female, another female, and a male whom just made contact with the ground. Cortes halted immediately, almost skidding forward as he did so. Dust clouds formed behind him as the innate dog in him surrendered to an order. His tail wagged behind him, excitement meeting the ground with each pound of his appendage. His tongue lolled out as well, saliva pooling down with bile and blood. He took a gander at the man before him. Eyeless now, just as Cortes had first been. Blackness was all he saw, along with the pinky flesh within it's depths. Soon that would fade. Blood oozed, and the injury upon the man's leg was not forgotten. The boy would be in pain for a while, but soon he would heal. And another round would resume. "I do not like to win this way," he would admit, spitting out fluids with each word. "No hay satisfacción en este." Still, it wasn't his call to make. When the woman, who Cortes assumed to be Drak's love interest appeared, he'd dip his head in a gentlemanly fashion before looking back toward the young buck.
(23:32:54) Zodiak felt the pressure of the male; the order to submit. He refused to do such a thing, this dog wasn't Drak.. He wasn't Vad. Zod would never submit to him, even if it meant fighting on a daily basis. Upon receiving the weight pressing against him and with a snarl he'd shift to remove self from situation to excavate the bile from his nose. Upon turning to face him for another round, Drak's order was heard and head craned toward him; swaying some as vision was off. He meerly stood there as drak spoke, his mind and spirit still fired and ready to do battle... but his body was done, he was spent. The pain that surged through his limbs was numbed over, his head throbbed and on occasion vision blurred as body tried to shut down to recooperate. He shook his head to regain focus, upon which had the spaniards words flooding his ear drums. Attention would turn to him, lips peeling as he let out another snarl and forced a step forward. His leg suddenly regained feeling and he half stumbled, a combination of his limb giving out and the lack of sight on one side. He was dizzy and a little uncoordinated which in time would pass but for now held strong. Single bronze eye glared toward him. This wasn't over, zod would return this day ten-fold when the time was right. He rose from his half laying position and shook lightly, stumbling to one side but catching himself this time. Tongue would pass over lips and a heavy sigh was expelled, there was nothing more he could do for now.
(23:49:49) Drakov: Cin's nipping antics caused a curl of lip, though it only stirred due to instinct. Right. He couldn't always compare to the girl, or anyone for that matter, but he knew it hurt like fuck for him so he had to assume it wasn't much different for her. Maw parted to mouth the womans face in return, a nip lashing out as she turned to derpat and bath before eyes were set back to the two before him. "I agree, Cortes. To Fight to your last breaths. Until ze opponent submits or dies. To never give in. But zis should not be a life or death situation. Family iz not un enemy. Know ven enough iz enough, Zod. If you vish to fight till you die, fine. But zat is not vhat ve do vith family." Unless of course they really dereseved it. But that was not the case here. This was a simply matter of dominance, and should be treated as such. "Draw, if you must. But know vhen to stop. Else I kill you both." Casual as ever. Afterall, it didn't come across acceptionally good to never bow down to authority, especially after past instances. A stable hierchy was neccessary, if not it stood to reason any stubborn blow hard would charge up to the Tsar's themselves asking for a good ass woopin! Not that he minded at all to dish one out, but. The point remainded. Respect was required, not just to the Kings, but amongst each other. "Now clean each ossers wounds." SNORT. Ohhhhh Burn. SSSssss. Jk. With a thorough shake of pelt, assuming of course no retaliating words were to be had, Drak would proceed to the lake as well to clean himself off before heading ot bed.
(23:56:35) Cortés looked toward the boy. He had grown silent. Unusual for someone he'd come to know as mouthy. The man was wobbly, and he'd expect it to be so. In fact, he didn't know how the man was even standing upright. Cortes sighed then and stood up from his sitting position, the movement making his muscles ache slightly, like he'd been exercising nonstop. Carefully he took a step forward, his skull turning in a way so that his eye could take in both Drak, and the boy. "I wish for him to show me his submission. "Muéstrame tu debilidad. Humble yourself, and submit, or I will not stop. Mi Maestro will pry myself from your body if you do not." He turned toward Drak and frowned. The second time. The first was so that he could get back his ear and consume it. This time was for honor. "That is the way I live. Submit when beaten." He would await a response from either Drak or Zod. So when Drak mentioned the word draw, he immediately took a step back, his face uplifting in displeasure. "A draw. I can not. I wish to fight until I win or lose. I will not leave him on deaths door if you wish it so. La muerte será ver si se me niega mi derecho." He looked between both males. This would mean his submission to Vad meant nothing. He lost, and thus gave himself to be taught. He deserved the scaring on his face. This wasn't right in the male's eye. "Please reconsider," he pleaded hastily. However it seemed the man had already departed, (unless of course he stayed). He narrowed his gaze and grunted toward the boy. The first sign of displeasure since ever.
(00:08:36) Zodiak remained positioned where he was, head sinking to point nose at the dirt as he swayed side to side. He was listening, but his eye closed to block out the sights that made him dizzy. Drak's words made sense, zodi started this fight with the idea this brute wasn't family. Tsars acceptance of the male made him family whether zodi liked it or not. Honestly he didn't really even know the guy, he was just pissed at him from the day before. Ugh, he felt shame for the first time today. If he'd behaved differently he'd still have his eye, but alas, the past cannot be changed. The mesh of russian and spanish was begining to be too much to comprehend. The sounds fading from him until draks final statement. Another obvious sigh was given and head slowly lifted to view drak. He couldn't possbly be serious? Zodi wanted to snarl, he wanted to growl but the energy, the thought process it was gone. Hollowed gaze shifted to cortes as he remained where he stood looking rather drugged. He'd await whatever motion was made, if the brute came to him or not. It wasn't a statement like 'come clean my wounds bitch' more of.. I can't fucking walk right now so imma just stand here and space out.
(00:14:20) Drakov: Body went to motion forth at Cort's words, but insted he paused mid-step. Not even aiming for the male. Oh the talking. "It is your right to proceed. Ze boy is new to..... our... ways.." Tone made it evident his meaning. The lifestyle Cort and the brothers shared. Zod still had a lot to learn, a lot to establish. Even though he'd grown so much, he remained far off. "To draw would be but Cort's courtesy. I vished him to know before making his decision. Proceed." Ohh he knew how stubborn the yearling was. Before he didnt really give a flying fuck, but.. He was hopeful for the kid. He'd made much improvement, and Drak wanted only for it to continue rather than blow up in his face and end in the boys pointless death. Sigh. Was pack life doing this? Likely. It was making him associate all these bloody canines in a similar appeal to which he held his brother. Not nearly as strongly but. Somewhat. Rump resettled on the earth, head nodding in Cort's direction. It was submission or die. Everyone was subjected to this concept.
Cortés's tail wagged behind him in a furious flurry. He dipped his skull. "I thank you for this pálida rey," he'd pip in gruff appreciation. He moved then, turning his skull so that only the boy was within view. This would be a lesson Zod would not forget. Already his mark had been made upon him, and his prize mere feet away. Still, he didn't take joy in causing another being to submit. He knew the humiliation it felt at first. But it wasn't always an embarrassing thing to do. Submitting was a way to show that you were humble, and that you were willing to offer yourself to learn. He moved casually then, no longer moving at his fast pace, nor the ferocity of prior. He hadn't the need. The boy was clearly exhausted and in pain. The only thing he needed to do now, was to lower him unto the ground and expose the boy's belly. The plan was set in action as he moved to circle Zod, a wide girth given until he slowly trotted up to his side. Gently he'd opened his jaws, hoping to bring the boy's nape within his mouth. Pressure would be applied, enough to show he was serious about this, and that it wasn't exactly going to be a pleasant experience. Still though, he treated it as gently as he could. Without further adieu, or distractions and interruptions, he'd pull down hard, using his chest to press against his side in hopes of bringing the body down unto the ground with a hard thud. If he succeeded, he'd snarl deep into the boy's fluff before backing up, and examining his work.
(00:47:33) Zodiak swayed absently as mind drifted elsewhere, well really, nowhere. His blurred vision had started to fade to black, body trying to force him to relinquish his stance and collapse to the dirt. He came close, stumbling once more and lifting his head in surprise to see cortes approaching. hmm? was he coming to tend to his wounds? seemed a little bit of a shock considering what just happened. He squinted some awaiting the unwanted grooming but it was delayed. Head turned but impared vision could not locate him before pressure was felt. Fuckin really?! Physical contact drew senses to life, he could see what was going on and he didn't like it. Chest would rumble but body was weak and crumbled beneath the male. Jaws parted but no sound emitted as he drew them towards the males face. Slight contact would be made, parted jaw pressing against his face before it was withdrawn and head dropped to the dirt with a sigh. He just... couldn't and the defeat destroyed him inside. He submitted to drak and vad, but rather enjoyed their company aside from the vicious assults the brothers had given him. This was more than that. He'd felt valued in their eyes, trainer of pups--hunter--family. Now he felt as if all that left with his defeat, he'd sunk below their line of worth at the hands of yet another wolf. Poor kid was begining to think he'd never reach the top.
(00:55:16) Drakov: Mental sigh stirred his thoughts, not in distaste or disapproval. Just.. Decompressing. Some one on one training might need to be had. He was driven enough, at least. "Very good, Cortes." Words ushered old, low in tone as it was originally meant to be nothing but a thought. Once Zod was finally down, the brawl officially over, Drak would shift forward to clasp the yearlings scruff and drag him back home. Another duty tasked to Pisc!
(01:02:36) Cortés finally tasted victory. He smiled, but it wasn't one that hinted of maliciousness or enjoyment. Rather it was one of empathy. He was in this exact position when he was a kid. Though his event happened a little bit earlier. Still, he understood everything Zod was going through. It sucked, but Cortes felt it would make him into a better individual. Whether that was the truth or not, time would tell. Cortes suddenly moved, his eye rolling around within it's socket so that he could find the prize upon the ground. It took a moment and careful stepping on his part, (so he wouldn't squish the object,) and moved to pick it up from the ground. He was careful about it, using his teeth to scoop it up. He would then move to drop the object before Drak. "Spoils of my victory." Cortes then turned without speaking, and would lower himself so that he was laying upon the ground near the fallen Zod. Carefully he'd pluck the injured paw in which he only moments before mutilated, and would place it upon his own limbs. Almost to anchor it in place. However before he could get father, the boy would be dragged off. Cortes took then to travel toward the river to clean his face. Yet again. Tomorrow would be another day for a conversation with his Master, along with the pale King, Drak.