[ P ] The Beginning

When I was given Lieutenant, I had felt nothing but burning pride underlined with boiling ambition. It was just the first step. I had to accept and recognize there were still others above me, but I didn’t lose my temper over it just yet. The journey to rectify would be a long one, and one I wasn’t sure
I was particularly equipped to handle with patience and care, but damned if I didn’t try. And so, a taut line fixed my silvery, marred lips as I walked proudly to the training grounds. My head was held high, stoicism painted my expression, my gait demanding respect.

I will kill for this.

I have killed for this.

I entered the area, watching as some soldiers sparred loosely.
"Straighten your hind leg…watch your tail…better footwork!"
I snapped at the strangers, baritones booming like overhead thunder. They squabbled a response, which only fueled my ego further, before taking up an empty space with my massive frame. My one working eye scanned the area. Any takers to practice against me? I stood with an inflated chest and a challenging glare. Who’d be brave enough, I wondered.

For Ryker.

Ryker Verlice

Little did she care for the heat, sweat, and dirt that soaked into her fur, she wanted nothing more than for the day be long over with and ending with her finding a creek to wash the day away in. But alas, it was only noon, she paid little attention to what happened during the morning routines, finding herself busy and less prone to lurking around for that filth that was Colonel Mascarada. Her own blood was still boiling with anger as he simply toyed around with the thought of a promotion for her. She was glad it was only play, and not anything he was willing to give her. She didn't want such a blessing bestowed upon her by him, he was nothing to boast about, and a promotion from him could also be questioned, argued. And for the sake of her sanity, she withdrew any further thoughts on the subject. However, she would find herself back amongst the dirt and the sweat that stained the training grounds.

Quietly, she would stalk from the sidelines, or slither about her comrades, using them to help blend her with the commotion. She was watching them, ever so closely and criticizing them ever so harshly. A lieutenant would burst into the arena as if he owned the very ground he walked on. A harsh tongue striking the soldiers and their skills. A low rumble would churn in her chest, not quite making itself known yet. Using the soldiers as her cover, she would weave between each body, steering clear of the maneuvers being used. Amethysts watched the man of smoke through the dry dirt and dust kicked up by clashing bodies and heavy foot falls. His face, quite ugly and riddled with, likely, poor choices from the past that were a reminder to him. Her focus was drawn in sharply by the clouded eye he wore so shockingly well. Her figure pivoted, moving herself to remain hidden from an eye that already could not see. She planned to strike, but only to first deter his stance. She moved silently and steadily, each paw cast forth moved her fluidly in his direction. Her hind legs coiled and sprung her forward, forelimbs guided her as she dove towards the mans front legs. Her ears tucked tightly against her skull as felt her crown connect with his body. Forelimbs wrapped around what she could of the colossal man before gravity took her, and whatever was in her graps with her. Just enough to cause a disconnect between his sturdy stance and the ground beneath him. She would fall to the ground almost gracefully, paws catching her in a roll as she fell. As she slid against the dirt, she locked her appendages until she felt herself steady, then tucked her chin just so as a tail went erect. Pearly whites glistened in the light of day, before they snapped at the man with a wicked tongue. It's a wonder you're not learning new tricks yourself, what with that fucked up eye of yours letting you down. she crept forward, accepting his open invitation, simply waiting for what was next. Surely, she had his attention.


speaking

The spar was short lived but it was fruitful in its fruition. Ryker struck with authority and precision, a sort of refined focus that only natural fighters held. It was an honor to have been bested by her this day, even if it cost me. The feel of the tear wasn’t registered until after, when we both stood opposite one another, heaving with labored breath and eyes locked in intensity. A drop of blood fell to my cheek, then to the edge of my snout, seeping into the old scars there. Brows furrowed. What on earth? Was it mine?

Searing hot pain came then. I growled in response, lifting a forelimb to the source of the pain and when I drew it back down, it was covered in fresh blood. My ear…it had been ripped further. It stung, almost unbearably so, and the blood continued to drip in delicate droplets, painting my face. Surely it soaked into the deep grooves of my bear scarring, and with absolute shock, I regarded Ryker. One dead eye, one bright golden, maw slightly ajar, her body poised for yet another attack.
Miraculous.
I could only smile then. A booming laugh of rolling thunder escaped me and I let joy overwhelm every part of me, even taking away the pain rather briefly.
"Impressive!"
I winced then, exerting a sigh of agony rejoiced.
"Captain, you honor me."
Baritones half groaned as I tilted my head slightly, the pain gaining traction while my body still sizzled with jubilation.

Ryker Verlice

Their invitations to one another were so eagerly accepted, his first blow rather heavy, and almost precise- something she didn't quite expect from a half blind wolf. Dust and dirt clouded the air, but other soldiers had ceased their maneuvers to pay attention to the two iron clad warriors that were so eager to tear out one another's throats practice their moves on one another. He had made rather noticeable purchases on her shoulder, at one point she could only exhale with frustration as she worked through the sting and ache that he sunk into her body. She threw away the plan of seeking out his most vulnerable spots, his blows were much too hard to take the time. She would grab hold anywhere and everywhere, making sure purchase was made and not wasted with each move. At one point, her teeth were postioned on such a delicate spot, so close to his much needed life functioning arteries that lay within the neck. Somewhere, malice was hiding behind the innocent intent to ensure this lieutenant was no dead weight to the ranks, what with his one functioning eye.

It wasn't until she felt a piece of his own body come loose with the hold she held with her jaws. He had aimed for the face, but fortunately for this man on this day, she missed. What was unfortunate, however, was the last bit of his ear that she would spit out in front of him. With a heaving chest, she glanced up to the man as she watched and waited for a reaction- her paws planted firmly, readied for another blow, or to deliver one. Ribbon would slick across her kissers, soaking in her crimson prize for the day.

Impressive! Captain, you honor me. clearly, he conceded. To the eye of the soldiers, this was merely a test between captain and her lieutenant. To her, it was another game where she only sought to prove herself better than the opponent. Her body would slowly begin to lose its rigidness, her eyes though never fell from the man. Let's go to the infirmary, see what they can do for that... misfortune of yours. she would nod in the direction of the medic's set up, her limbs would loosen so as to step forward, moving past the bleeding man of iron and Crimson. Or, you can atleast wash your defeat off in the water just over here- just quit bleeding on our goddamn training grounds Lieutenant. there was a dry laugh at the end of her almost command, it wasn't much, but it was a laugh nonetheless. Plume would tick as she walked away, her ears remained forward, not quite caring whether or not he chose to get himself patched up or cleaned off.


speaking

Ryker was a woman that wasn’t exactly hard to read, but wasn’t exactly easy to digest either. I had always been impressed when I could be bested, leading to some set in stone forged friendships, but she was my Captain, and seemed to be too rigid to let herself love. Which was fine. I didn’t need her to be terribly fond of me to actually get anywhere in my life, but I did admire her as a superior and as an inspiration. I nodded at her command to stop bleeding all over the training grounds, stifling the smirk that threatened to take over again.

In a few strides I had caught up to her, heading toward the infirmary. Even though she did rip what was left of my ear off, her shoulder looked like it needed attention too. I observed it as we walked.
"How’s that?"
Baritones almost crooned. I meant it in many ways. In jest, in sincerity, in gluttony, in slight concern. A brow arched over my one working eye and my silver slips curled up in the slightest half grin before falling again.
"Who trained you, Captain?"
Thunderous tones were now much more genuine in execution, where I was humbly curious. Her precision wasn’t only naturally inclined, but honed by rigorous training, I’m sure.