BURN
BRIGHT

Ninazu stands against the rebellious tide, pupils narrowed to slits and a curl in her upper lip. The Coalition lost their claimed lands, bit by bit, but the most dangerous animal is a beast slammed into a corner. She fights for her home, for her family, for a future. The Coalition can’t grow out of ash. She cannot back down now. Not when home isn’t a home.

The air crackles with static, sudden death surging over her skin, electric pulses thrumming to escape. Ninazu holds her magic close to her chest, the fire and lightning crackling together in a beautiful synergy. She is greater than the sum of her magics. She is greater than her knowledge, her experiences, her traumas. The fire heats against her neck.

Leader. Healer. Warmonger. Combatant. Witch. Aggressive. Reckless. Beaten. Hostage. Sacrifice. Killer. Torturer. Dead. Alive. Ninazu has been all of these things at one point in time. Death doesn’t scare her—she’s died, twice, and rose again. To die in battle isn’t a glorious end; it’s a temporary inconvenience. To die over and over in pursuit of her goals is no different than waking up to fight one day after the other.

She glances to Stryker, as if affirming he is still by her side. They fight together, as always, a whirlwind of violence and blood. Ninazu breathes in, touches her muzzle to his in one last affectionate embrace, and prepares to meet this tide.

If she dies again, so be it. Their goals matter more than the flesh she inhabits.

[member=1738]STRYKER[/member]

© MADI

The sleuth of boats creeping upon the shore and thunder of paws echoed throughout the island, alerting many pirates and wanderers alike. There was only one thing the daunting call of their screams could mean. A revolt. Clashing throughout the territory, the two main groups collided and bared their teeth at one another, defending what they both thought was rightfully theirs. In truth, they all wanted a home. Whether their morals were skewed or their actions were crude, their intentions were good. So the battle begun. The one where their home was either taken over by a courageous lion or relinquished by a fearless tiger.

Alarms sounded off in his mind as his son burst through the Captain's quarters, prattling on about the boats on the shore. The lion rose to his feet. With a growl, he dismissed his son. Curt orders were all that was needed for Romulus to prowl to the front of the battle, effortlessly trying to destroy the boats as they approached. In the meantime, the lion contemplated his own plan and debated on joining him, but ultimately decided to stay in his spot. He knew they would come eventually. When The Typhoon finally felt comfortable in their former home, Stryker would pull the rug underneath their paws and sweep them off their feet.

His eyes moved towards Ninazu, locking with her gentle gaze. She pulls forward. He mimics her movements, pressing his muzzle against hers and closing his eyes to embrace her. Warmth radiates from her figure. His heart pounds longingly, knowing that she got killed last battle. He couldn't lose her. Not again. Stryker pulls away. Slitted hues attempted to meet with hers once again. The memory of her blood gushing from her devoured replayed his thoughts, but she lived. They would prosper. Their love continued on nevertheless. Every obstacle they faced was decimated. This one would be no different. "I love you, Ninazu," came his soft mumble. With one last press against her side and his head nuzzling underneath her jaw, he went to work.

Like clockwork, time passed. The lion did what he could from inside the captains quarters, ordering those that came and offering what scraps of weaponry was leftover. There was one weapon left though. A cutlass scimitar. His green eyes traced the edge of the blade, pondering it's use. A snort left Stryker as he moved it from it's stand and into his paws, casually passing it into his jaws. Venomous saliva drooled across the hilt. Jagged teeth imprinted onto the handle as he tightened his grip, only to let go moments later. The sterling silver blade ripped through the air as it left his jaws with a whip of his head. The sword's tip dove into the wall before him and horizontally stuck in place. With what gold he could muster up out of the figurehead, he manipulated the wall around the front of the blade to hold it tight and keep it in place, almost like a sword set in an immovable stone. Satisfied, a huff left the lion. The wait was long, but the time would come.

And that time was now.

A thump and pawsteps echoed above from the main deck of the Tempest. His gaze snaps to Ninazu. Stryker pulled himself into the shadows of the captain's quarters and pressed against the edge of the doorway. With a gesture of his paw, he encourages her to join him on the opposite side. As the sound grew closer, he tensed. His breathing slowed and claws unsheathed from their sockets, ready to strike. With one last ragged breath, the figure's reverberations sounded right outside the entrance and a golden paw soon stepped forward into the room.

Stryker lunges. Alabaster claws attempt to breach skin and tear at her face as he dives forward. The rest of weight tries to press into Goldenluxury's figure and push her back, ultimately as an attempt to push her onto the wooden floor with her underbelly exposed. Whether or not he was successful, the kingpin would bare his teeth at her and let out a malicious hiss.

The smell of the shore laid deep within his sinuses as the boats crashed upon the shore. With the thunderous stomping of a hoard of paws, Alexandre's heart began to thump. Familiar faces exited the docks and although his worries subsided, the upcoming notions worried him. What if they couldn't escape? What was going to happen to his mother? His tail lashed against the sand as anxious thoughts wandered throughout his mind. Nevertheless, he had to do what was best. With ears pointed back and pressed against his head, he wandered back towards the central part of the island.

Orange hues grazed the horizon as he ran. Home. He needed to get home. His siblings needed to hide again, but there was none in sight just yet. With none in sight, his claws unsheathed and his teeth bared in frustration, canines glinting in the sunlight. Dearly he hoped he wouldn't have to fight, but who knew.