The rest of their squad had been downed, lost to the ring. They had fought admirably, dying in the heat of battle. Bloodhound had avenged them, decimating the enemy team, but there was only so much they could do. The ring had creeped up on them, this they could admit. Their banners were long lost now, as they had run, in the hopes of continuing the fight in their teammates' stead. And fight hard, they would. Bloodhound knew that the Allfather would grace them, dying with their weapons in hand. To Valhalla, Felagí fighters.

They had been tracking their prey, Peacekeeper at the ready. Keeping an eye on the seconds ticking down from a screen across the hill. There were two squads left, three people and Bloth Hoondr. They refused to go down without a fight, and they were sure as hell going to make it one. They cast their sonar out, over the hill, quickly dashing and sliding to the left, between two trees, better cover, knowing that the enemy team would attempt to seek them out. They had every intention of catching them by surprise, Beast of the Hunt coursing through them, the heat of battle coming to a boil, but were caught by surprise, feeling something nudge of the back of their helmet. They stiffened, dodging instinctively, spinning on their heel, shotgun raised. Somewhere between this course of events, the enemy Revenant fired, the bullet glancing their helmet, shocking their system. Their head spun from the impact, and they could feel blood rolling down their back. What would have been a graceful spin-steady, made them horribly dizzy, and they lost balance, collapsing to their knees in front of the enemy.

No. Not like this.

They snarled, loud and feral, standing up, the eye-glass of their mask glowing red. Blinding. But oh, could they see.

"I bathe in the bloth!"

They don't realize they're saying it. But every move after that point is cold, calculated. Filled with an inhuman fury. They charge the Revenant, shooting him once, twice, three times. The simalcrum falls to his knees. They finish his off quickly, making sure his dies with his his weapon in hand. It was the least they could do. Bloodhound turns their rage towards the rest of the team, quickly picking up their scent. Ravens fly overhead, cawing. The Allfather graces this. They forget their pain, but they can feel their body being tested under the strain of it all, as they chase down the remaining legends.

They shoot again, as Mirage backs into view, and again as he runs.

Get back here and fight.

The next few moments are a blur, as they shoot, and miss, are shot again, just before they bring Mirage down. Gun in hand. Procedural. He would not be left disgraced.

Wraith proves a challenge, Bloodhound can't seem to catch her. But all her bullets find their mark in them. They can feel their rage subsiding, weak in the knees. Their head is still bleeding, aching. Confusing and sickening all at once. Wraith takes her chance, and Bloodhound is thrown for a loop, downed and bleeding out.

They do not cower, and simply accept the defeat, clutching at their gun. At least they would go down fighting. At least the Allfather had seen their tribute. And what a tribute it was.

Everything fades.


They awaken, not in a medbay firmly attached to a lifedrone, but in a field. The sky is cast over, and the wind has a chill to it. Flowers have bloomed around them, and a crow, similar to their beloved Artur, creeps ever closer. They can feel tugs at their tail--they freeze. Tail? They look back, and through the holes of their mask--also different. Longer--, they can see the long body of a canine, a crow tugging at the tip of its tail. Their tail.

How strange.

Was this Valhalla? It didn't seem so. Had the Allfather given them a second chance? Found His favour in them? They didn't understand.

But perhaps, there was something for them to learn. An opportunity, to prove themself in front of the Allfather once more. They bowed their head into their paws, thanking their god silently. They lid there for some time, before standing. One of the crows hopped over, fluttering its wings to land upon their furry shoulder.

"Let us see what this world has to offer." They say to the black bird, making their way to the top of the hill, looking out over the lands. The crow cawed, flapping its wings, setting off towards the swamp in the east. Taking that as a sign, Bloodhound followed, chasing after it, knowing the Allfather would guide them.


They slowly traversed through the swamp, stopping to examine the traps that hindered them. Had these been made by humans? They seemed small, built to be an inconvenience. They noticed the markings on the trees, slowly deducing a couple of the meanings, using them as a guide, deeper into the territory. They slunk quietly through, a true hunter. Oddly enough, they found this body much easier to slip around unnoticed with. Perhaps it was instinctual, millions of years of knowledge coming together to ensure that the wolf persisted and survived.

They had come close to the settlement, smelling other animals, seeing movement from between the buildings. They figured that perhaps, it would not be a good idea to simply stumble into their home uninvited. With all of the traps, they assumed that patrols would be around...at some point. Someone had to watch over them. For good measure, to test, and out of their own amusement, they find a stick. They use it to set off one of the traps, slinking over to a  relatively dry rock to sit upon, in clear view of the settlement, as well as the sprung trap. And then, they waited.

((ooc: only the last two paragraphs are important. the rest is all setup in this world jdfgmfghhfgd))

It didn't take long, Bloodhound noted, for someone to arrive. A thin feline had come searching for the source of the noise, finding that there was no one in the snare. They turned around on their rock, just in time for the savannah cat's eyes to land upon them, giving them a small smile. Bloodhound tilted their head in greeting, knowing that their smile in return was not easy to see with a mask on.

"I am assuming that most others get... trapped?" For lack of better word. Their accent is thick, something akin to Icelandic.

They dip their head as well, following Vigenere's lead. They meant no harm. The cat speaks further, telling them of Tanglewood. Wanting a reason. Bloodhound ponders for a moment before responding. They're sure that the animals here were about just as aware of the gods as the humans were in their Games.

"I was impressed with your collection of traps. My name is Bloth Hoondr. You may call me Bloodhound, if that is easier to say. I am a hunter, blessed by the gods. I am simply following their will, and it seems to have led me to you." Another tilt of the head. "And what would be your name?" Their voice is kind. Intrigued.

They slowly step off the rock, closer now, to the smaller cat. They take care, not just in sizing them up, but in moving slowly, so that they do not seem to be a threat.

"I am not familiar with this area. I was wondering if Tanglewood would have me. I can hunt. I can fight. I have spent my life, proving myself to the Allfather. I will be happy to do the same here."

They would not waste the Allfather's blessing.

As Aurum approached the scene that harbored both Vignere and the newcomer – apparently known as Bloodhound – he couldn't help but find himself slightly uneased at the mention of being "blessed by the gods." It wasn't that Aurum was in the business of critiquing others' religions, but as an angel, he had some experience with gods. Or rather, one God. And considering how he had been forced from heaven and had slowly come to learn of what a hell heaven actually was, just the mention of the other's apparent status made his skin crawl. However, the lion kept this to himself, slowly making his way over with heavy footsteps. He eyed the trap that Bloodhound had set off curiously, impressed that the other had actually managed to navigate the territory without getting caught in anything. It had been quite a while since they had a joiner like that, at least one that wasn't based upon pure luck, rather than skill. Although, there was always the chance that Bloodhound finding the trap had been pure luck, and all this hunter stuff was just smoke and mirrors, meant to throw them off. Aurum tried to push that thought aside, feeling faintly sick with himself. He didn't need to be so skeptical of everyone, did he?

Pushing those unpleasant thoughts away, Aurum decided to focus on the moment, the lion raising his head to smile calmly at Bloodhound, the large wings upon his back shifting occasionally. He said kindly to the wolf, curious about the other's odd looking mask, "Hello there, Bloodhound. As Vignere said, we'll be happy to have you within Tanglewood, especially with your apparent skills." Tanglewood wasn't exactly bad off at the moment, but the children within the group were beginning to outnumber the adults, so a new hunter and tracker wouldn't be so bad. With that aside, Aurum focused his attention on introductions, his voice a low rumble, "My name is Aurum, and I'm the proxy, or second in command around here. You can come to me if you have any issues that need solving, or our leader, Leroy. He shouldn't be hard to spot. He's quite the large grey dog." The technical term for what type of dog Leroy was escaped Aurum for the moment, but he knew it was some type of wolfhound, hence why he was so much bigger than many other canines.

[div style="text-align: right; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: 0px 0px 2px #1B1B2F; font-size: 24px;"][color=#44437F]— AURUM

Of course. Not many knew their way around traps, let alone expect so many. Bloodhound certainly hadn't, but had put their trust in the crow's path. They had certainly been surprised. And pleasantly so. Perhaps these animals similar to their own blood. Their mind drifts fondly to their late uncle, a kind man. Understanding. Firm. He had accepted them when their parents were lost, had accepted them when they came out. Had slowly accepted that perhaps, one could follow the Old Ways, while still accepting that the tides have changed.

They do not comment, simply nodding. Accepting this. Not many had grown up as they had. Not many watched their steps, noticed the taut vines. They had not played any Games.

Vigenere Cipher. A strange name, but they supposed their own, in comparison, was odd. They tilt their head once more, at the offer of being shown around, and respond.

"I would be most grateful, Vigenere Cipher." The name is alien on their tongue. They turn their head then, hearing another's approach. A winged lion, massive. His face kind. This is one of the few times, that they wonder what it's like, to have all your emotions so boldly shown. But, they would feel bare, without their mask. So it remained firmly where it was, but they gave their tail a wag, an awkward little movement that they figured.... took getting used to.

"That is wonderful to hear. You have my gratitude."

They listen intently to Aurum, nodding in understanding. They would be sure to come to either of the two, if they had concerns.

"The Allfather graces us all this day, that I have had the opportunity to meet the both of you. Thank you."

At that moment, they can hear movement nearby, their ears twitching. They can smell... something. Familiar? Alarming. They turn their head to the brush nearby, as coughing erupts from it. Their eyes narrow, but they don't move beyond that. The newcomer soon emerges from the underbrush, a large, dark wolf. Green eyes. Green smoke, coiling from his mouth. Bloodhound's eyes widen then, and they know his name long before he speaks.

Caustic. Adrenaline pumps through them, thankfully not forgotten from the ring. They don't know wether to laugh or run, or both. They decide on neither, stepping down from the rock as he greets them.

"You."

Their voice is not unkind, and is filled with something like wonder. Apprehension. Surprise. They approach slowly, looking at the curling smoke has he exhales. They are on edge just as much as they're happy to know someone here. As happy as they could be, staring into the face of death. But they suppose, they are much the same. A beast in the arena. A beast in the flesh, now.

"It is good to see you again, Caustic."

Felagí.

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[div style="width: 300px; max-height: 100px; height: overflow; overflow: scroll; padding-bottom: 5px; margin-top: -5px; font-family: georgia; font-size: 8pt; color: #152232; letter-spacing: 0px; text-align: justify;"]He kept fancying that Ivan was absorbed in something — something inward and important — that he was striving toward some goal, perhaps very hard to attain.

Ivan had long accepted that there were many things he would not understand. This wolf addressing Caustic as if he knew them was one of those.

It was very strange that Caustic knew so many people, despite seeming to resist against the Tangle society. Yes, he was an animal, but he was a foreigner to Tanglewood. Everyone in Tanglewood knew Ivan's past — they raised him. The strange cheetah was another interesting character that had designs on Caustic. Ivan wasn't jealous, but he was suspicious. There was also the whole ordeal of Caustic losing his mind after his lab exploded. What was he hiding? Perhaps this person was the clue. He seemed more friendly than the resident mad scientist.

And what was this Allfather? To say the young atheist was curious was an understatement. Religion did not have much of a place in this society and perhaps Ivan would go further and say so for the entire island. To see people like Bloodhound was a rarity in itself, and it offered more questions than answers.

"My name is Ivan." Ivan tacked on, warily. "You know ... him?" Obviously, from the interaction. But Ivan just couldn't believe it.