IS IT ALL OR NOTHING | o, rescue raid

[HAMMOND]

[align=center][div style="text-align: justify; width: 60%; font-family: georgial; font-size: 11pt;"]She's not dead, but she should be treated as such. With all the group's recent pain and suffering, risking to invoke more nasty infliction on them  was something that stretched far beyond his pragmatic reasoning. Here Axle was though, leading a patrol through treacherous sands and lands he'd once run away from. No Pittians of note had bothered chasing after the fugitive and his wolfhound companion that time around, had more care gone into forming opinions of the other groups he would've certainly treated that with relief, this time he hoped to be just as lucky. Being back in the place where his paws sunk into the ground and his mind was left to wander with the scorching heat wasn't easy, mirages of old friends and families appeared off in the distance (he'd blame them on the environment this time) and though his eyes may've trailed off to the illusions, the Guardsmen didn't stray off course.

For he'd walk in the valley of the shadow of death and fear no evil. Who are you?. He squinted - not now. Stop trying. Days of inactivity had tempted him enough, the risk was almost as grave as the reward - if they succeeded, they got back a medic, if they failed... they'd retreat with injuries left untreatable. Violent ghosts and potentially treasonous 'allies' would result in his temporary residence requiring medical assistance anyways... if they were afraid to take lead and get back Delilah, than the male would - at least this would pay off some of his debt. Passing through the jungle had been much easier for him, though he was an animal bred in warm environments, mentally he couldn't handle gawking at them wastelands for long. He'd told the party to split as they traversed through the humid environment, with the goal all being the same - camp.

Some evidence had been left in the small group's wake, though their dwindled numbers did allow for quieter passage there was no denying that full invisibility was nigh impossible. A waft of foreign scent here and there, a warm body of a Pittian or two, all until his goal was present and he had his honey-coloured eyes on their homes. Having chosen midday in hopes that a lot of the Pittians would be out doing rounds of the territory looking for joiners, the Heeler would watch for activity in the camp for mere moments. This is suicide. You owe them prey and kindness, not your life, turn around and leave. A mottled cranium span around, trying to detect those who'd followed him amidst the foliage. Perhaps some had gotten lost, but the longer they waited, the more dangerous it'd be.

"Get Delilah, get out. Let's go," he grumbled quickly, darting out of cover whilst letting out a wild snarl, clearly trying to draw attention to himself as a trespasser.

[member=1277]DELILAH.[/member]

[DELILAH.]

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DELILAH EVERGARDEN

— Take a moment to think of just

[size=8pt]tags - plotting - reference

tanglewood
- medic
18 months old

physically medium
emotionally easy
mentally easy

demiheterosexual heteroromantic
in love with renegadeanthems

completely blind
androphobic
skittish & sensitive

nature faerie
earth manipulation
telekinesis
x-ray vision

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//Delilah will be rescued in this thread, but feel free to leave some scratches on her flank as she's being rescued!

It was so cold, despite the humid air around her. Delilah had never felt so cold in her life, but then again, the wounds on her body had yet to be treated, and she could feel the infection in her missing leg taking over. She felt the phantom limb, the pain of a missing leg, as if the limb was still there, roaring out for her to fix it, but Delilah knew it wasn't there.

Heavily clawed eyes peered blindly into the territory as she heard snarls, whatever was left of muscles tensing as the scent of testosterone- males- washed over her. NPC's were starting to shuffle in the background, she couldn't decipher the scents. Whether that was from the lack of food she'd had recently affecting her sense of smell, but definitely not her sense of hearing- now enhanced by her newfound blindness.

The medic was known to be one of the most important members of a group. Without the medic, the group would succumb to too many injuries, and the population would waver. While she could easily find a replacement for her, Delilah didn't dare talk about such around others. She loved her job, she loved being a doctor, helping people.

Even if some scared her.

The faerie found herself whimpering as an NPC shoved her up onto her shaky paws, jabbing her in the ribs to get her moving- to make her move further into the territory, away from the intruders. Inky, drippy black wings hung limply at her sides, the black igor staining the ground under her as the girl felt a rough tug on the collar around her neck, grunting and sputtering as she stumbled.

FLEXIBILITY, LOVE, & TRUST —

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[W]isker

[arrow]

[glow=black,1,400]DID I HIT THE SPOT, PISS YOU OFF, MAKE YOU A FOOL IN FRONT OF EVERYONE — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

Delilah.

She'd let the medic get captured, at least that's how Arrow saw it no matter how she looked at the situation. She'd slinked around and threw some weight around, but at the end of the day she'd still let the medic go, and whatever injury and trauma the pink girl sustained was on her in her mind. Maybe it was because she felt so close to her, she'd stepped up to the plate to become her, what, guardian? And here she was, thinking she could do it. Her failure had extended to someone else now and she hated that she saw it that way. But she'd hate herself more if she didn't get Delilah home.

Arrow trailed after Axle, green eyes narrowed and in search for her target. She wasn't looking for a fight here, but the Pittians could kiss her ass if they tried to interfere with her end goal, though these boys didn't play fair and she didn't feel like going up against a dog or something bigger than she was.

The chocolate feline glanced at Axle as he gave the command, and she separated from him to do exactly as he had said.

"Delilah?" She kept her voice down as much as possible, thin tail lashing behind her. What did they do to her? She couldn't tell, it burned her up inside but she couldn't tell if it was fear or rage.

[Morgan]

By the time the General found the resolve to follow the raiding party, they were already way ahead of him. Though he could use his normal methods of speeding up transportation, the stealth risk it posed was far too great. Instead, he tailed the tiny group on foot - their auras were clear enough that he could focus on them.

Something about Axle had always intrigued Morgan. It was something of an idle fascination; every time he saw the other canine, he was reminded of his own feral roots. That same sense of familiarity is what helped snap him out of his relative defeatism; as crude as Axle's speech had been back at camp, it made perfect sense.

Why should I just assume she's gone? What if there's still a chance? What kind of leader would just sit there and let his own people die without even trying to fight and get them back?

The samoyed shut his eyes and picked up the pace as he mulled over those thoughts, his breath turning heavy.

Half a mask and a full set of ice armor formed around his body, dyed a deep red by the war paint he wore. Politics didn't matter, his reservations didn't matter, and his own health certainly didn't matter. What mattered was that he'd help get his people home as safely as he could.

...

Once Morgan was able to sense Delilah's damaged presence, he knew he had finally caught up to everyone else. Heading in a separate direction from where the rest of the group was, he took another route toward the kidnapped Tangler to provide further coverage. Surely the main group had a stealthier strategy to focus on, so the General figured providing a distraction and some brute force would benefit them most without express knowledge of their plan. The less heat the rest of the group had to take, the better things would turn out.

The leader bounded toward his destination, forming a pair of spears from the water left in his bracers. Noticing Axle's initial action, he stepped forward and howled out to draw attention toward his end.

Arrow's gotta be the one retrieving her, then,

he assumed. He howled once more, stomping at the ground and causing it to tremble. Twice the diversions meant twice the chances that Arrow would be able to reach her target quickly.

[B. WAYNE]

[align=center][div style="width: 51%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: verdana;"]There's movement in the wood - rushed pawsteps, low voices, and Bruces thinks of all the times he's stumbled upon less than friendly loners in his travels. He stands at Delilah's side, flanking the NPC only because he was ordered to. He keeps his head down, eyes cast only at the path ahead, but when the NPC gets antsy and tries to take out the day's woes on the Pitt's prisoner, he gives a hiss and demands the other Pitt member stand down. It's a tenuous attempt at letting Delilah know that he wasn't going to let them bring any more harm to her.

The voices grow closer and the hairs at the nape of his neck prickle. He feels that something again, the same feeling that rushed over him when he saw slaves gasping for mercy on their deathbeds. It's hope, maybe. A mix of hope and that raw, feral anger that pushed him ever closer to the edge.

Arrow emerges from the bushes and the NPC tenses, runs - a cowardly thing, overrun with fear at the sight of too many enemies for two Pitt members to take on alone. Bruce has to think fast but the knowledge of what he's about to do is already weighing heavy on his mind. The cheetah braces, watching the Tanglewood warriors approach one by one, and gives a warning lash of his tail. These attempts at looking menacing when he was trying to help them were halfhearted at best, but worked well when his clanmates already saw him as a useless pacifist among their soldiers.

"Run. Quickly." It's barely a whisper, just briefly passed from the unwilling guard's lips to Delilah's ear. He'd hold the Pitt here by causing a fight, he'd play stand-your-ground so she could run. She could escape if she moved now - her people were waiting for her. He'd say he was overwhelmed, he wasn't much of a fighter, she just got away. He'd take the consequences knowing one of these poor slaves made it home alive.

[Stryker]

[align=center][div style="width: 60%; text-align: justify; font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia;"]☣ — Stryker had warranted their newest target to be the Typhoon, but perhaps they had another enemy on their front. With the Typhoon dealt with (mostly), the ardent had contemplated on choosing a new target instead of continuing their mess. With the capture of a special medic from oh-so ‘frightening’ Tanglewood, he was enthralled, but found them to be less of a threat. They were lousy competition. For a warbound group, they were too passive to his tastes and he doubted their strength. Plus, The Pitt had more members. As most knew, there was strength in numbers and if the slaves, masters, and members could rise up, they would surely win the war. But did Tanglewood seem like they would attack over this lousy fool to him? No. Not at all. If they did, he’d laugh. Thankfully, there were still enough spots to fill in the temple’s chambers if they were to fight back... and Tanglewood was. To his surprise, he was caught off guard.

The trembles reached the lion's senses in no time. Neon eyes darted up from the ground and into the horizon where an army of Tanglewooders awaited a fight. 'Shit.' Stryker dove to the head of his temple, looking out on his surroundings and looking for any weak points in their raid. There was little. Even so, it seemed as if they were swarming in two areas. Axle and Morgan ran the two areas. Little did the lion know, they were rerouting them away from the temple's chambers. Frustrated, the ardent rushed out of the temple and into the battle front. NPCs followed his lead out into the jungle's forest.

Orders were being past around as he shot out into the jungle. "Guard the temples, get our strongest to the front, and bring the young inside." There was little time to prepare. Anything would do for now. Pausing at the front, the ardent turned towards his closest allies and let out a ravishing roar. "KILL THE SEWAGE RATS," came his malicious hiss. Claws unsheathed, slitted arrows narrowed, and muscles flexed. He was ready to go into battle. Whipping around, he searched for a target. Obviously, the first one to come to mind was Morgan, seeing they were a fellow leader. The samoyed was small and an easier target than the majority that had already arrived to the battle, but Stryker was definitely underestimating the general's control of water elementals. Nevertheless, he would head in.

Stryker lowered to the floor and pushed off into the air with tensed haunches. Outreached, jagged claws aimed to grab at Morgan's front. He would attempt to take ahold of the general's neck, pushing his weight forward so the samoyed would then collapse to the ground. If successful, he would try to get some other slashes of his claws in before the other leader regained sense.

//open to attack here, would love some kills or maims, along with venomous paralyzation and mental manipulation if y'all would like. if your boi gets killed, their head will go on a pike for the border later on when i get those details out!

[DELILAH.]

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DELILAH EVERGARDEN

— Take a moment to think of just

[size=8pt]tags - plotting - reference

tanglewood
- medic
18 months old

physically medium
emotionally easy
mentally easy

demiheterosexual heteroromantic
in love with renegadeanthems

completely blind
androphobic
skittish & sensitive

nature faerie
earth manipulation
telekinesis
x-ray vision

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Weakness.

Delilah was so weak.

Empty, soft pink eyes were glazed over as she felt the chain connected to her collar drop to the ground. Her ears pricked when she heard Bruce speak, telling her to escape, but she knew it wasn't that easy. She couldn't just run.

"I can't see.. I don't.. I don't know where to go.." Delilah's broken voice replied, shoulders trembling as she waited for someone to call her name. She knew, from the sound of Stryker yelling, that her clan had come to rescue her, but at what cost?

"Arrow.. Arrow!" Delilah shrieked out, her voice cracking as the blind faerie tried to stumble away from Bruce. Men, too many men. She didn't like this. Breaths came out heavy and forced as she began to panic. What if they killed Arrow? What if.. What if..

FLEXIBILITY, LOVE, & TRUST —

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[W]isker

[Dragon-]

[glow=#000,1,400]get a load of this monster, he doesn't know how to communicate — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

Leopard had a divided opinion on slavery. He was someone that had grown up in it and he was also someone that was able to escape it. He saw the necessity that slaves could be and he had no qualms about using slaves as laborers, he only had a problem with it when those in power grew too big for their britches and saw themselves as better than those they held captive. The torture of slaves was something that Leo simply did not understand. It was more productive to have happier and healthier captives than harm them and use up valuable resources when they got sick or injured because of what you had done to them.

Leo knew about the slavery in the Pitt and, while the occasional slaver would go too far, it was not usually much of a problem. He had seen the torture of prisoners of war and it did not phase him, although the harshness of it would occasionally make him wince. It was better for his clan to take their anger out on the POW's than the slaves.

The cloaked male had been resting in the shade when he caught a foreign scent wafting through the air.
A quiet but annoyed growl would make its way out of his maw as he began to get up, stretching for a moment. He would make his way over to the steadily increasing noise, a slight grimace upon his maw at the thought of having to possibly fight in the midday heat.
If the invaders had thought that the pittians would be out patrolling in the sweltering afternoon, they were sorely mistaken. That was a good way to get sunstroke.

Leo would let his gaze settle on the group, ears twitching as he listened to what the ardent was shouting. youngest to the back and strongest to the front, pretty simple. The large feline would spend a few minutes herding slaves into the temple, suppressing a shudder as they all crowded around him. The slaves were valuable and did not deserve to get injured or killed. He would make his way to the front lines shortly after, having left his cloak in the possession of one of the younger slaves. He trusted them to keep his cloak safe.

It was rare to see the tom without a covering of some sort and it was now rather obvious why. Scars littered his pelt from top to bottom, each telling their own story in some way. The most obvious was the twisting scar that ran down the right side of his face, marking him from his forehead to his chin and appearing to split both his eyelid and his lips. Muscles rippled under his skin as he fell into an aggressive stance, golden eyes glinting and maw twisting into a cruel smirk. Wings that had been previously flattened against his body would flare out, casting shadows in the harsh sunlight.

He saw a domestic that had split from the group, looking split between fear and rage. Conflicted enemies always proved fun.

The large Savannah would begun to rush at the significantly smaller feline. He would aim to bite down on Arrows scruff and slam her into the ground, if this worked, he would use the disorientation from that to lash out at her underbelly with his claws.

[ Leo is open to attack! he's very up to killing, capturing and maiming others. he can receive small to serious injuries himself but it's not terribly easy due to his extensive fighting experience. if you are open to it, Leo often takes a tooth from all those that he fights.]
[glow=white,1,400]text[/glow]

[ninazu]

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© lexasperated

I WISH YOU COULD SEE THE WICKED TRUTH
CAUGHT UP IN A RUSH, IT'S KILLING YOU

With the midday sun high in the sky, the erudite remained uneasily situated by the opening to the underground cave system. The golden sand cat dared not escape the shade's confides -- if she did, the sun's glare would most certainly drive her into a spitting fit. She once set herself on fire, a month or so ago, as she attempted to guard herself against demons she knew were both there and yet not there. Her ears flattened against her head as she slunk back into the darkness as a few Pittian NPCs raced by, screaming battle cries just after Stryker gave his order.

[ open for a fight / attempted capture -- but if someone tries to get her to leave the caves, she'll either flee into them or die attempting to fight 'em off ]

WRITTEN BY AXIOM * TAGS

© LEXASPERATED

[HAMMOND]

[align=center][div style="text-align: justify; width: 60%; font-family: georgial; font-size: 11pt;"]With a battle now underway, and a distraction proved to be mostly successful, the Heeler was left with a choice when blood rushed to his ears. A Pittian had broken off towards Arrow, and Morgan was being eyed up by what appeared to be their commander - why must he be victim to yet another dilemma today? Who was more important here? Why did you forsake me? he took a sharp breath, adrenaline kicking in. Me or them and you chose them! WHY WHY WHY?!. Vision momentarily going black, a roar seemed to bring all light back into his eyes, the spotted creature springing into action. "Arrow!" he called wildly, hoping to bring the shorthair's gaze over towards the main party so she could see the stranger lurking closer towards her. He could've been shouting to anyone, anything, his gaze didn't betray the location of the feline - he was glaring at [member=1738]Stryker[/member], instead.

His jaws were leaking like a bad engine, with the very distinct possibility of him choking on his saliva had it not been trickling to the ground. As the Pitt's leader launched, the Heeler hoped to slip under the lion with help from his noticeably shorter stature. Axle lifted his head, he aimed a swift bite or two to the other's belly before high-tailing it out the other side. With an angle too awkward and the other's momentum affecting his grip on the soft flesh if he succeeded, the canine had never been hoping for noticeable damages. Anything that could distract those deranged eyes from Morgan, at least for a second... it gave the samoyed a small advantage in an unfair fight.