[CHAL] Seeking (Aelin/Fashaq)

[oo Ded]

Fashaq felt tense, but he didn't really have the words to explain why. It had been a little while now since his last viking, and he felt as though he were a bit... cooped up, maybe? Maybe that was it. Or maybe he was just spending too much time with his sister and her apparent intentions to drive him mad were finally taking a toll.

Either way, his muscles felt stiff and itching to spring into action. Other than taking another leave of the pride (which he didn't feel physically nor mentally prepared for, given how the last journey went), the best course of actions seemed to be taking a good walk around the borders. Maybe something interesting would show up.

A breath of relief left him as he heard the roar. It was an unfamiliar voice, but the call was one he knew well enough. An Askorun.

He was close enough to where he felt confident that he'd be the first reaver on the scene, so the lion quickened his pace until the lioness came into view.

Fashaq was a quiet lion by nature, something that didn't change in greeting the rogue. No words were said--they both knew what they were here for. His muscles tensed and readied and he gave her only a nod. A sort of 'after you' gesture.

_ p a o cx

 

[oo Ded]

Perhaps he hadn't accounted for the lioness's speed, or perhaps he simply hadn't been prepared. Either way, the strike hit him full force.

When the had time to talk later he would have commented on the moxy it took to go for a straight shot to the face, but at the moment the navy lion was more concerned about not getting his face clawed and bitten at. It would have been a sore embarrassment to get some new scars not from some great conquest outside of the pride, but from the challenge of a singular rogue lioness.

Fashaq reared back to take the attack, the brunt of the lioness's force hitting him in the chest. He winced as the claws met his shoulder, but he didn't pull back. Though he didn't have a particularly large frame for a lion--he was rather average in that regard--Fashaq was sturdy and built with muscle. He used that weight to his advantage and dug his back paws into the ground, pushing forward into the lunge with his own claws and weight in an attempt to topple the lioness over.

_ p a o cx

 

[oo Ded]

There was a pause when the lioness tumbled. A pause to check his footing and feel out his shoulder. In retrospect, he would have just went for it. He would reflect on this, later. About how in a life or death battle, that second pause could have cost of life. Here, it likely meant costing him the fight.

Fashaq lunged towards the downed lioness, but a few seconds too late. She had already pounced forward and by the time his claws were extended, she had already made contact with his shoulder.

The pain that radiated from it pulled a growl from his maw, but he was already committed to the forward lunge and he had no choice but to follow through. The navy lion weight more and so he topped forward, tumbling over her. The lion rolled forward, flinching at the shoulder before getting back to his feet. He'd have to watch that shoulder. No use in making for a legitimate injury just from a rogue challenge.

But he still had to put up a fight. Still had to do all he could for the good name of the pride. And so Fashaq jumped forwards once more, aiming his weight towards the bulk of the lioness's mass in an attempt to get on top of her and bright the fight to close range.

_ p a o cx

 

[oo Ded]

Now he had a nice pair of symmetrical wounds in each shoulder. That would be annoying later.

Fashaq clenched his jaw, his lip curling in a snarl. If he wanted to end this he would have to do it quickly. The lion's weight shifted beneath him once more and, just as he got his footing after his lunge, he turned and pushed towards her again.

His full weight moved towards her as he attempted to pin her to the ground. Fashaq recognized that he couldn't waste time with strategy or waiting for the perfect opportunity. Even if it meant leaving his vulnerable wounds more open, he had to do what he could to turn the tides in his direction. He could only hope that his opponent wouldn't take advantage of his weak spots.

_ p a o cx

 

[oo Ded]

Though he might have been successful in getting that last push in, the flailing claws didn't do him any favors. A paw hit right in the mark, a not insignificant blow dealt where his shoulder was already wounded.

Fashaq's leg buckled and he stumbled to get his footing. He was bleeding, now. His shoulder felt tender and he didn't want anything permanent. It wasn't worth it to prove that this lioness didn't belong. She clearly did. Even if the last blow hit out of luck, it was a successful hit.

"That's enough," Fashaq growled. The navy lion stepped away, a clear limp visible in his front left limb. He slowed his panting breath. "Welcome to the Stormborn," he continued, letting the lioness get up.

"My name is Fashaq, by the way. And now..." his eyes turned from her towards the pride, then back to her, "now we need to take you to see a Lawspeaker." And him to a medic to stop this bleeding.

_ p a o cx

(Feel free to end this!)