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 Posted: Tue Feb 19, 2008 4:55 pm
She didn't give her children a second thought at the moment, focused instead on her own upcoming fight, in the back of her mind already aware that Ashi and Zari would handle themselves accordingly. If she lost a child or two in this battle for reckless behavior or idiocy, it wouldn't be those two, at least it wouldn't be Ashi. She couldn't speak for the rest, at least... she couldn't speak for Zita and Kadoto. Zita was still an uncontrolled hot head, and Vita she simply hadn't spent much time with, training the girl ((Don't know, never got to RP Azula with Vita.)).
There were plenty of traditionalists that Azula would have her pick from, but she didn't want just anyone. Certainly not the old storyteller, Firekin or no, she doubted if the orange elder could keep up with her, and Azula wanted at least something of a challenge. As her black painted paws carried her swiftly over the sands the rebellion came within view, already splitting off to begin their individual battles. Where would Azula find hers, she wondered, as she almost drew close enough to hear the words spoken?
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Posted: Wed Feb 20, 2008 11:44 am
What Azula got would be a challenge indeed, for Azachamorel soon charged from the dens, intent on finding her own fight. But here, how did you choose friend from foe? So many were of the Blood, so many. And so many were spitting on that heritage today, in the name of something 'better,' for a cause. The wayward heir had corrupted them all, the wayward heir with the Pridelander blood. In his father it had not been so strong, but in Kidondo it had risen up in force - what other reason for such madness?
Aza threw her head back and roared, daring one of the fools to come for her, to add to her many scars as she drove them down to their final resting place into the sand.
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Posted: Wed Feb 20, 2008 1:08 pm
Ears perked, golden eyes narrowing to glance towards Aza, and the huntress turned to face the other, tail beginning to lash about behind her.
"Azachamorel...." She crooned tauntingly, claws already at the ready, fangs baring themselves, but she would not rush into a fight with foolhardy vigor. "Good. I'd hoped I would have the pleasure of someone worth fighting this day!"
The bared fangs gave way as her mouth parted wider with a challenging snarl as she finally now charged for the other, eager for the excersize of battle.
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Posted: Wed Feb 20, 2008 1:25 pm
"I knew better than to hope for someone worthy," Aza sneered hatefully. "You are all cursed, traitors!" She let Azula come to her, readied herself for the impact of body on body, claws unsheathed and muscles ready to spring. This was a fight she would not, could not lose. For Finar-si, for the future of her pride and her children, she would fight this heretic and any other with everything she had.
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Posted: Wed Feb 20, 2008 5:18 pm
Aza's words, as hateful and demeaning as they might be, did not phase Azula, for the lioness cared nothing for the opinion of others. The only thing that mattered to her was she herself, her ambitions, her goals, and perhaps the pawns and the very few allies that helped her along the way.
There was no room or need for words then, reaching the loyalist. Azula lashed out with obsidian colored claws, rearing up on her hind legs to launch her further forward with a deadly pounce, easily falling into the language that their kind had used to beat lessons into outsiders with for decades. Azula had learned to add her own words to this tongue, however, sometimes reveling in angering her opponent, sometimes not. It wouldn't always produce the desired results but it usually made things more interesting, for the time being she'd simply let her claws and fangs do the talking.
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Posted: Thu Mar 06, 2008 4:47 am
There was no doubt in Azachamorel's mind that she was the stronger lioness, the better fighter. She had sharpened her claws on many a rogue, bested multiple opponents; and she fought for her pride, and for her goddess, and to protect her children. To ensure the future of the Blood, and the downfall of heresy.
She battled with the one she might once have called sister and run the dunes with in search of prey, lashing out with practiced claws as Azula made to pounce.
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Posted: Sat Mar 29, 2008 5:04 pm
Azula took the sting of Azachamorel's claws in the interest of making contact. She'd not back down or be unnerved by a few gashes or scratches, though to lessen the damage she did restep, pouncing higher so that Aza's claws would find purchase on her shoulder rather than any vital spots. With a roar enough to rattle the very sands they stood upon she collided with the huntress with an echoing THUD. Bodies clashing, tangling, Azula's fangs sought purchase on Aza's exposed face, neck, or shoulder, claws raking to dig in deep in hopes of getting a good grip so that she might wrestle the lioness to the ground. If it failed, she'd simply try a different tactic, but for now she was testing, fighting in the moment and not daring to plan too far ahead. A huntress would be skilled at improvising, at least if she was truly worth her grains of salt, and Azula didn't plan to be caught off guard for underestimating one of the blood. She might think them weak for her own reasons, but that didn't mean they were incapable.
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