It wouldn’t matter though, if they arrived then they would be disposed of in a neat manner. He had Wolfeite and even if he hadn’t then he would have been capable of dealing with them alone. Previous encounters had shown he could handle multiples.
They stood beneath a grove of trees that stretched up high, looking as those they were reaching for the heavens. The branches near the base of the trees were thick, easy to stand upon if needed and there were a few broken branches that scattered the area.
In the center, stood Labyrinthite in all of his powered general glory. A sinister grin was on his face as he held the staff of his scythe and eyed the wolf across from him.
“What are you waiting for?” He taunted, tongue darting to lick his lips. “Don’t you have something to prove?”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The answer to Labyrinthite’s question was too easy for a myriad of reasons, because Wolfeite had too much to prove.
He stood now, surrounded by the thick forest that surrounded the Black house, inhaling the woodsy scent of moss and leaves and trees, dark eyes alight with intensity as he watched Labyrinthite from across the clearing. The general’s grin was nothing short of mocking and fierce, and Wolfeite had a conflicting desire to both scrape it from his face with his nails and cover it with his own mouth to see what that smirk tasted like.
The taunt was a blatant one. Wolfeite let out a low growl from the back of his throat, upper lip curling back into a sneer.
There was no verbal answer given, of course; he didn’t have anything else to say. Instead, Wolfeite launched himself across the clearing, a blur of black and red and a flash of gold as his eyes set upon the man in front of him.
He needed to focus. And to watch out for the scythe.
He went low, Wolfeite darting to try and avoid the inevitable swing of the weapon, his clawed hands aiming to rake across Labyrinthite’s knees.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Taunting his wolf was something that Labyrinthite did with an emotion akin to glee. The subtle shifts in posture and facial expression gave much away to the man who had trained himself to watch and acknowledge them. He waited and he watched for Wolfeite to take the bait.
He swung his scythe out, high with the blunt side facing its target, but it was predictable and easily avoided by the captain.
Labyrinthite stepped back almost in the nick of time, claws grazing the fabric of his pant leg and tearing it open. He spun in a smooth movement, kicking out with his other leg as he moved. The skull head of his weapon came back around and this time, he was aiming for the legs.
“Come on Wolfeite, I expect better of you,” he taunted.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He managed to at least dodge the full brunt of the scythe, though it grazed his side, knocking him slightly off balance. Wolfeite gave a snarl of mingled impatience and annoyance, his claws barely missing Labyrinthite’s legs, feeling fabric ripping as he lost the target he’d been intending for.
Labyrinthite’s taunting voice was in his ears.
“b*****d,” Wolfeite hissed, and the general’s leg caught his shoulder, just as the scythe cracked against one of Wolfeite’s legs. He collapsed to the ground, practically spitting with rage, and was up again a second later, throwing himself bodily at Labyrinthite, once again aiming for his legs.
His head was buzzing with a need for violence, a heady rush of adrenaline coursing through him. Wolfeite dragged in a sharp breath, his eyes flickering with a hunger for more.
Wordlessly he dropped low again, tail flicking, and swept a leg out.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Labyrinthite clucked his tongue in disappointment when Wolfeite resorted to an insult . A single word that the captain tended to overuse, especially towards his general. That was unacceptable, he would have to teach him such.
“Ah-ah,” he scolded, head shaking as he side stepped the lunge.
He’d been reaching downward with his free hand, intending to grasp Wolfeite by his hair, when the kick swept against his ankle and his movements staggered. There was soft hiss of pain, Labyrinthite’s teeth bared and one knee hit the ground. His grip on his weapon faltered and the beast of a scythe slammed into the ground.
It did not deter him however and he was on his feet in a fluid motion. He reached for Wolfeite’s throat now that they were in closer range and he looked angry even if it was just a flicker. “Watch your tongue wolf,” he growled. “Or I’ll rip it out.”
Wolfeite could call him whatever he wanted when they were alone, intimate, without as much repercussion but they were training and Labyrinthite would demand respect.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He did not like the dismissive way in which Labyrinthite was speaking to him; as though he needed to be disciplined like a child receiving a reprimand from an adult. The general had always been violent and vicious in his insults, and his attacks, and this was no exception, but for some reason it razed Wolfeite more than it had before, grating against his nerves.
He let out a snarl of anger, and his foot connected with Labyrinthite’s ankle. There was a thud as the scythe’s blade hit the ground, but the general was back up in an instant, fingers wrapped around Wolfeite’s neck in a vice-like grip that made a choking sound escape through clenched teeth.
”Try,” snapped Wolfeite, twisting harshly in the man’s grasp. His ears were flat against his dark head of hair, his tail lashing back and forth in rapid movements behind him. Gloved fingers rose, clawing at Labyrinthite’s wrist in an effort to yank him off.
Wolfeite drew a knee up and tried to swing it at the general’s stomach.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Unsurprisingly, Wolfeite responded with aggression instead of obedience and something dark flashed across his expression. “Ah, ah little wolf,” he sneered, grip tightening enough to restrict airway access without cutting it off. The nails scraping at his wrists stung, but didn’t deter him despite the blood that was beginning creep out his skin.
“You will address me respectfully,” he ordered knowing that he would likely have to force the man to. “Or I’ll make you regret every single choice you make today.” It was very much a threat and a promise.
The knee caught him in the gut, hard and painfully, and the general grunted through his teeth. He released Wolfeite’s throat only to grasp the offending knee with both hands and use his strength to throw the captain onto his back. “Do not test me pup,” he warned, closing the distance between them that he’d accidently created.
His foot drew back and then he made to kick Wolfeite in the ribs.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There it was again, that mocking, dismissive tone. Wolfeite hated it almost as much as he hated everything else about this damned man that he couldn’t stay away from, even if he’d wanted to. Labyrinthite’s fingers were vice-like around his neck, cutting off the air supply, and Wolfeite’s chest was rising and falling rapidly, body desperate for a breath.
His fingers clawed uselessly at the general’s wrist, and could not make him give way. Words were there, in his head, but not able to be spoken, all that escaped Wolfeite a choking a sound, his face steadily reddening from oxygen deprivation.
But his knee had hit its mark, and Labyrinthite’s fingers were gone. Air rushed back into Wolfeite’s lungs, fast and painful, and he rasped out a half strangled gasp that wrenched in his chest. There was no time for recovery; Labyrinthite had grabbed ahold of him and thrown him, and this time the air was knocked out of Wolfeite a separate way, his back slamming into the hard packed dirt beneath.
For a few seconds, blackness encroached in his vision - and then again, as the toe of the general’s boot caught him in the ribs. Wolfeite rolled over, a buried yell swallowed before it could escape as he half staggered, half crawled to his knees again, one arm clutching his ******** you,” Wolfeite hissed, and threw himself at Labyrinthite now, the wolf inside howling.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Labyrinthite’s jaw ticked in response to Wolfeite’s blatant disobedience. His face darkened as his foot connected and he stepped back to watch the half-youma writher in pain on the forest ground before him.
“What. Did. I. Say.” He all but snarled at Wolfeite threw himself. Claws grazed his knees but did not stop him as he side stepped and lifted his foot, taking advantage of the crouched state to drive his heel into the captain’s back. Instead of moving away, Labyrinthite chose to press his weight into the foot digging into Wolfeite’s back, a movement designed to pin the man to the ground.
He leaned over, grabbed a fist full of hair and jerked the wolf’s head back unforgivingly. “Watch your tongue.”
This session was as much about physical training as training Wolfeite to watch his tongue. “You will show me respect.” He gripped locks of hair more tightly. “And you will watch your tongue or so help me Metallia.”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He was in one of his moods, it seemed, because every nerve of Wolfeite was on edge, fraying at the ends, until he felt electrified and vibrant and violent all at the same time. It was a dangerous path to tread; Labyrinthite was not a forgiving man in any sense of the word, and he did not ever take lightly to insubordination.
And Wolfeite seemed to be full of insubordination right now.
The general’s heel cracked against his back, slamming him to the ground, and a feral snarl tore from Wolfeite’s throat, his gloved hands dragging ridges into the grass beneath him. All of Labyrinthite’s weight pressed upon him, and there were fingers in his hair, yanking his head back painfully hard so that his ears flattened, a razor of pain and discomfort slicing through him.
“Or - “ Wolfeite ground out. ”What?”
He reared back, aiming to slam his elbow backwards into Labyrinthite’s gut if he could, Wolfeite twisting and writhing to free himself.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
For every inch of progress, Wolfeite appeared to regress a foot and it was grating on the general’s nerves.
His foot lifted momentarily as he moved out of the way of an elbow, only to stomp right back down. His body shifted and he replaced his foot with his knee, pressing right between the captain’s shoulder blades. He repositioned his hand, grasping hair from the base of the neck, before slamming Wolfeite’s head into the dirt below them.
“Do not test me.” Labyrinthite snarled.
His own patience was wearing thin and it was slowly being replaced with anger. Labyrinthite pushed down against the base of Wolfeite’s head, aiming to smear it across the grounds. “Or I will treat you like one of them.” There was no mistaking who he meant, especially when he suddenly stood and crossed to where his scythe was.
He bent to pick it up, heaving it into the air.
Labyrinthite tossed it between his hands almost effortlessly for it’s size and weight as he walked back over to where the wolf lay. When he swung, the skull of the scythe was pointed down - the only small mercy in this fight.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There was only a second’s relief as Labyrinthite lifted his foot - and then his knee came down, knocking the breath out of him once more. Fingers seized his hair and before Wolfeite could do anything more than snarl, his head was slammed viciously forward into the ground.
Stars exploded in his line of vision, pain ricocheting from his forehead all the way down to his toes. Wolfeite’s scream was more one of rage than agony, a roar of a feral howl tearing from his throat, He snapped his head back up, blood pouring from a nasty gash across his temple and from his nose, though he didn’t seem to care, Wolfeite flipping onto his back in the few seconds that Labyrinthite disappeared.
“I am not - “ the scythe was rushing towards him “ - one of them.”
It was skull side down, but that was nothing. Wolfeite twisted violently to the side and the edge of the weapon caught his shoulder - and this time it really was agony that made him scream, something twisted and half snarled and full of hatred. For a few moments, blackness wavered in and out of Wolfeite’s line of vision, spots flashing so that Labyrinthite was unfocused above him.
Wolfeite’s head dropped back down to the ground, his hand clutching his shoulder, coughing and practically spitting with fury, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There was a snort that escaped the general as he pressed the skull against the ground beside Wolfeite’s body. “Then quit acting like it.” His brought his foot to rest on the heaving chest, weight pressing down on his sternum. “When I give you an order, I expect you to listen. And you will show me respect and watch your tongue or next time,” he leaned in, hand sliding down the bone shaft. “You will lose it.”
His foot slid upward so the toes pressed against Wolfeite’s throat.
“Now, are you going to submit or am I going to have to break you?” He asked, golden eyes narrowing as he searched the half-youma’s face. “Don’t keep me waiting,” he warned, pressing his foot down on Wolfeite’s jugular.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
”Then quit acting like it” was a jab straight to his head, Wolfeite snarling in response. He felt the weight of Labyrinthite’s foot press into him, his breathing coming out short and gasping, made even worse by the pressure of his toe against his throat. His lungs felt constricted, vision wavering again, and yet this time Wolfeite did not reach up to try and shove him off.
Focus. What do you want to accomplish?
Blood was hot and sticky on his face, making it difficult to breathe. He sucked in a rattling breath, and felt it sear through him, his shoulder throbbing with pain, and the hand not gripping his arm clutched to the grass, his fingers digging in.
What do you want?
Wolfeite’s snarl abated as he swallowed it down.
”I yield.”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Labyrinthite’s glare was harsh and unforgiving as he waited for the strained words to come out his wolf’s mouth. His jaw was set so tightly that it ticked when he shifted and brought his foot back to the hard forest ground. Normally, after training the general would pull his opponent to their feet but this time, he didn’t. Instead he left Wolfeite on the ground as he stepped back, disappointment clear in the way he regarded the captain.
“I expect better of you,” he stated simply, waving his hand so that the scythe returned to subspace.
Labyrinthite had expected Wolfeite to progress not regress as he appeared to. “Get up.” He ordered, hands curling into fists that pressed against his thighs to reign in his irritation.
Today, the general was not in a forgiving mood. “It appears I have to beat the disobedience out of you today.” His lips curled into a dark sneer.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He dragged in a sharp, painful breath as Labyrinthite moved his foot off, air rushing into his lungs. Wolfeite coughed, lifting his hand to drag his arm across his face, wiping the blood from his nose, though he didn’t bother with the cut on his temple. The disappointment and anger in the general’s voice was evident enough of expected discipline and it aggravated him.
Wolfeite climbed slowly to his feet, his body tense and tight as a strap, as though any wrong move would make him snap. He lowered his arms to his sides and watched the man in front of him his heart pounding in his chest from a rush of adrenaline and pain.
His shoulder was throbbing. Wolfeite swayed slightly ears still flat back against the top of his head.
“Yes,” he said, voice a low growl, ”Sir.”
Dimly he wondered whether he would walk out of this or if he would have to be carried or if Labyrinthite would simply leave him where he was after he was done.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Come here,” he demanded after, extending his hand towards the captain. “I have a very specific punishment in mind for you.” He didn’t bother to hide the threat or the double meaning in his words.
Fingers flexed as he waited for Wolfeite to be close enough for him to grasp by the back of his uniform, right by the collar Wolfeite was made to wear. . The grip was tight and unforgiving as he yanked the other man closer to him. His canines were exposed as he leaned in, voice deep and raspy with the promise of danger and violence.
“It’s time to remind you of your place,” he hissed, taking his other hand and grabbing a fistful of dark locks. There was a glint of violence and threat in his eye as he concentrated and they disappeared from the clearing, with only dents in the forest floor.
Whatever punishment Labyrinthite was going to dole, it wouldn’t be there.
nuxaz
