nobody can touch my swag | private, stryker

[Felibri]

I’m so fucking smart.

A wide grin was stretched over the mutt’s snout as he carefully rolled his precious cargo into his old leather satchel. Various herbs, sure enough to land him a good deal with a few rogues in the uncharted territories. Most of the ones he chose had catmint-like effects. Those were the ones that was sure to get him a good meal. He often laughed at how far he had fallen. The son of a long-lasting leader in a group far far away and now he had to resort to theivery to get his way. But ... he had sort of grown to love it. At the very least it was something he was good at. He wasn’t smart or ambitious like some of his siblings. Food was hard to come by, and especially when he happened upon a desert, he knew he wasn’t going to find anything special.

That is, until he caught scent of a group. Fidelio was ... politically challenged. He held no allegiance to any group, yet. He didn’t care to learn the names of the big powerful ones. It would be stupid to pass up on this oppurtunity.

Fidelio was a master at stealth and despite his apparent stupidity, he was actually quite crafty. Now, when he was caught, that would be a different story. His strength was not in physical combat. It could be by pure luck that he managed to sneak past without getting caught, but what mattered was that he made it and it was time to get his stolen goods away from here.

The German shepherd pomsky waited until night fell before slipping out from his hiding place and slowly making his way to the edge of the territory. The border was in sight before he decided to do something extremely stupid. He’d never had been so careless, but then again, he had never sucessfully stolen from a big Clan.

”Ciao, motherfuckers!” He screeched before breaking into a full-out run toward the border.

/might open it later after he gets his ass kicked

---

[Stryker]

[align=center][div style="width: 60%; text-align: justify; font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia;"]☣ —  Similiar to Fidelio, Stryker couldn’t quite simply makee a living based off whatever he did previously. Within Snowbound, he tried his best to be assertive and prove his worth, but was only ignored and thrown off to the side when a really challenge arose. Feeling worthless and unaroused, he searched elsewhere. The only other clan to offer the thrill in life and the importance he needed was the Pitt, despite the cruel ways he shamed all his life. Succumbing under their rule, the male fell into their vicious ways. It gave him the excitement he dearly craved and the attention that he’s always wanted. To put it simply, the violence was the only way someone would look at him and consider him to be something... even if it was a monster.

And here he was again, succumbing to their ways. Esklav recently challenged him against his loyalty, saying that Styker was worth nothing due to his sympathy shown to a struggling stranger within their borders. Disowned again. The lion was growing enraged. Irritated, he figured that there had to be something done. The slaver was full of ideas. It just happened to be that the solution fell into his hands today.

As the lion stealthy wandered through the territory, pacing uncontrollably, he found himself traveling closer and closer to the desert’s border. Considering leaving to grab a victim reluctantly, he continued his path. Soon enough, a scream came from afar and alarmed the male of the oncoming threat. ’Ciao, motherfuckers!’ it screeched. There seemed to be no intent of friendliness by the sound of their tone, but yet a similiar cocky nature that he held. Perhaps this was his chance.

Light fur blended into the Pitt’s territory, camoflaging him until the moment came. Eventually, their ‘visitor’ flew past. Emerging from his own place, the lion darted in his direction, following him eagerly. ”Paws don’t fail me now,” he spat under his breath. The lion was eager to not disappoint his clan once again. Coming within arm’s length, Stryker aimed to jump at the German Shepard pomsky’s behind and drag him down to the floor so he would stop in his tracks.

//mobile, morning!’

[Felibri]

His hips collapsed behind him and his paws scrabbled for purchase against the ground. The German-Italian mutt was sleek-furred and slim, so he was able to slip out from the lion’s paws, but his momentum made him crash into the earth, sliding on his flank against the dry ground.

When he regained his footing, he carefully evaluated his attacker. Adult male lion. No way he could beat this bastard in a fight. Fidelio’s icy blue eyes flickered from the right to the left as he searched for his escape while coming up with an excuse.

”Thank god you’re here. They’re after me, they’re chasing me. I need to get out of here.” The chocolate-cinnamon colored canine panted breathlessly, inching slowly backward. He could practically feel the border. Only a mere 100 meters away. He was so close. His heart thudded wildly in his chest as he bowed his head, trying to obscure the lion’s view from his satchel.

/mobile

[Stryker]

[align=center][div style="width: 60%; text-align: justify; font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia;"]☣ — As the other male slipped from his claw tips, he pulled away momentarily but remained close to the scene, signaling that he was still suspicious. Stryker, though wanting to show pity, was motivated by outside forces. This was his chance to provide worth to the clan by proving Esklav wrong, despite the moral reason being skewed. Still, he lived for life’s thrill. If this is was the life he truly desired when leaving Snowbound, he couldn’t give up now. Stryker was aroused and pumped up. Unable to give up, he pursued his prey with a leery grin.

Moving forward, the lion kept a close watch on his future victim. ”You’ve ran into the wrong territory then,” he warned with a hiss. ”Much worse lies here.” After all, the Pitt’s cliche was to antagonize everyone else ruthlessly without thought, but he found himself only doing it with meaning. This time it was desire. With that in mind, he continued to inch forwards as the other male did the reverse. Dearly he hoped for Fidelio to start running. Without a fight, this would be rather misleading and would end up being a lowered expectation of what he really expected. He expected too much. Stryker practically lived within an antagonistic, imaginary world of his own benefit. Now if everyone else would just fall into place...

The lion would jolt forward with paws outreached as he flew across the air, aiming to grab at Fidelio’s neck. Daunting class would scrap at the male’s scruff as he attempted to push the canine back towards the ground to attain dominance within the situation presented before them. If he missed his neck, Stryker still hoped to at least grab at another part of his body. If not, he’d skid off to the side and would continue to pursue later. He planned on dogging this dog till he submitted.


//mobile, i’m so sorry for replying late. i had work all weekend.

[Felibri]

[align=center][div style="width: 60%; line-height: 100%; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"]/sorry for lateness!

Safe to say, Fidelio’s luck was running out. This lion was being an awful bitch. He hadn’t expected that. ”I’m practically royalty. My father will kick your ass sideways.” He taunted. Fidelio was skilled at lying. It was probably something he had picked up from his father. Truth was, he wouldn’t exactly be considered noble anymore, since his father was off galavanting in the middle of nowhere with his mother instead of leading a group.

Fidelio found himself slammed to the ground by his scruff and he laid quietly and submissively, knowing he’d be caught. ”Done pleasing your ego? Ya get turned on by beating up on innocent creatures half your size?” The Italian-German scoffed with his head still pressed to the ground. His blue eyes flickered back to stare at his attacker with a smug, almost flirtacious glare. Fidelio was certainly a wild card. Unpredictable and hardly ever talking without putting in some sort of lie in his sentences.