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Date Posted: 06:37:28 12/26/02 Thu
Author: .Holocaust and Massacre.
Subject: [.scuffle.]
In reply to: Elena 's message, "~Slipps in from the night~" on 17:45:04 12/25/02 Wed

Holocaust smirked, and snapped his jaws together, taunting.

"You watch. Massacre and I will scuffle to decide who trains you, whoever wins is obviously the best choice for you-I suggest you take mental notes."

Suddenly his frame rippled, hackles rising and lips lifting in a snarl. His frame lowered, jugular protected and legs moving so that his stomach was blocked by legs at least some of the time. Massacre did the same, but remained silent as always. They both tensed, and all went silent. The tension built, until it could be cut with a knife. Suddenly, they leapt, circling each other, orbs locked on each other like hawks..

The two wolves circled each other, hackles raised to the max. Both sets of auds were pricked forward aggressively, circling each other with quick, calculated steps. It was like a dance-performed often, played out like a game. In truth, it was a game, a bloody one, but a game nonetheless. Suddenly, Holo leaped forward, 40 kilograms of bristling muscle, jaws slashing towards him, paws quickly carrying him towards his opponent. Massacre barrels into Holo, using both of their weight to his advantage. Bloody slashes appear on his shoulder, but they are ignored, his own jaws slashing at Holos chest. Holo leaps back, blood dripping from his chest. He lunged, quick, calculated, low. His jaws raked towards Massacres' paw...But the moment before they hit, his jaws shot up towards Massacres' neck, trying to latch on. Massacre leaps back, jaws grabbing Holos' muzzle and forcing it to the ground. Twisting angrily out of Massacres' grip, Holo shoots forward, jaws closing around Massacres' foreleg. Massacre howls in pain, his own muzzle shooting down to close upon Holos' ear, canines sinking fast into the soft flesh. Immediately, Holo lets go, Muzzle clamping upon Massacres' neck. Massacre freezes, jaws immediately releasing their hold upon Holos' ear. He growled softly-Holocaust always pulled a nasty trick like that...Massacre shakes his head, and smirked. Holo didn't latch onto muscle, he had latched onto the ruff of fur that protected his neck. Sensing his mistake, Holo let go and tried to clamp upon his true neck once more. Massacre leaps back, twisting expertly to latch onto Holos' neck...

Holo twists his own crania, blocking access to his neck. He leaped forward, barreling into Massacre, who expertly placed his paws in the general direction of Holos' pushing, so the total effect was much less than it could have been. Jaws slashing at each other relentlessly, snarls and growls echoing throughout the terra, the wounds get more and more in number. Neither was going to give up, although the the dance usually ended by now..but they had an audience this time... At almost the exact same time, the two lithe figures leapt away, beginning to circle each other once more...Both were oblivious to all others, though they knew such a scuffle should surely attract others. Uncaring, they continued on, working to wear the other out.

Holos' occuli were bright with battle-lust, dark peltry matted with blood, teeth marks visible in the soft flesh of his ear. His breaths come fast, though not heavy or hard. he was used to such action, the many old-and new- scars that littered his body telling of such. Leaping forward with a howl, he moves to bowl Massacre over, for he knew that pinning one made things much easier...

Attention distracted for a moment-huge mistake-Massacre is sent sprawling by Holo, though he latches on, taking him down too. They both roll for a couple meters, both rolling to their feet as Genocide had taught them. Lips writhe upon bloodied maws, both growling, though it was unneccisary-neither was intimidated by the other. Massacre leaped forward, tripping Holo and sending him to the ground in a heap of snarling, bloody fur. Leaping upon him, Massacres' paws threaten to cut off Holos' air and blood supply. Holocaust doesn't gasp for air like most wolves would, paniking, he simply took shallow breaths, allowing for more time. Like a spring, his hinds fling up, catching Massacre in the stomach and launching him off of Holocaust, who leaped to his feet, lithe as a snake. He sprinted towards the gasping Massacre, who had barely enough time to react. Holo leaped, aiming to hit Massacres' side and send him sprawling-he knew using brute strength was the only way he was going to win.

Massacre, using his intellectual side, flattened to the ground, Holos' tackle sending him sailing over his opponent. Holo lands like a cat, and whirls, though not quick enough. Massacre snakes forward, catching him broadside...

Holo is hit by Massacres' charge, knocking the breath out of him. Landing heavily upon the hard ground, he lay there gasping, the blow knocking most of his energy out with it. Massacre smirks, jaws shooting forward to try and latch on Holos' neck. He snarls, jaws shooting up also to clash with his brothers', heading off the attack. Meanwhile, his paw darts up to slash at Massacres' neck. Although his claws were blunt, like any other canines', Massacre was already injured on his neck, making it far more effective. The shot flies out, but Massacre latches onto his paw, jaws threatening to crush every bone in his forepaw. Twisting in pain, Holo lashes out with a hind, hitting Massacre in the throat and sending him, dazed, sprawling. Leaping up in an instant, Holos' jaws latch on his siblings' throat, demanding submission. Massacre refuses for a moment, stubborn as always. Holo reacts almost calmly, Jaws tightening further. His brother Massacre may be, but this practice fight had been won, and Holo wouldn't leave without demanding submission first. Massacre gasps, hind shooting out towards Holo, but his bulk merely softened the attack, the shock of it absorbed in the muscles he bore. Finally, his bristling tail curled ever-so-slightly, in submission. Holo released his brother, who leapt up, panting hard but glaring at him. Holo glared back evenly, but made no movement. The stand-off lasted a few minutes, before Massacres' gaze rested upon the pink snow about them. He broke the stare, and began licking his shoulder, observing the odd pink the snow had turned. Holo, the blood barely visible amongst his midnight pelt, ignored his wounds.

"Any Questions? We are willing to test any of your skills, and eventually you will have mocked with either Massacre or I."

It was merely a scuffle, it had no meaning. The winner was different each time-as the old saying went, you win some you lose some. Holocaust rose, and looked at the Beta, and nodded, motioning her forward.

"About your stance, female. Do it again."

She had one minor error he had to fix, before they would scuffle.

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