Duel:Kjarden v Mahri
Kjarden vs. Mahri
- Judges: Satoshi, Jacklin, and Parsithius
- Winner: Kjarden, Split Vote.
Kjarden, a born Lycan, stands rather tall for one dressed in such a filthy fashion as himself. Gray eyes peer through the openings in his charcoal-colored hair, studying Mahri; his foe for this bout. Everything thing slows down for this brash young male, the smell of the foliage looming up about the pair, as well as the trickle of water. Yet this is all soon pushed from his mind, as his keen senses affix on the Lycaness. A slow breath is drawn, and then he springs. Filthy bare feet kick off from the ground, beginning a long charge to his combatant, though this distance is bridged within the breadth of a second. A dip of his left shoulder, his left hand is able to scratch across the ground, picking up… something. For now, the born Lycan resorts to using a dagger, rusted beyond comparison. A quick jerk of his right hand would free this trusty blade, lifting it over his head in a prepared, and very bold, thrust. Holding the blade in reverse, it is brought down with tremendous force, hoping to in fact knife the other through the collar bone. And yet, this was not to be the finish. No, for Kjarden, being as quick and wily as he was a fist full of dirt, and rocks would then be thrusted at the eyes of his opponent. Dirty, dirty.
Mahri eye's Kjarden as much as measures her up, a slight twist to her pale lips. Deliberately, the alpha reaches for the dagger sheathed at her thigh, the smooth hilt gripped casually in her right hand. The blade is specially made of silver. No, this doesn't mean she is immune to its effects, but it does come in handy when faced with one of her own kind intent on maiming and hurting. Leather covers her hands, all except for the fingers which lay exposed to the same threat as the lycan rushing towards her. A gleam in silver-grey eyes announces her anticipation, the adrenaline that races through her once completely human veins as he rushes forward. Crouching, the alpha readies herself for the onslaught of his weight and forward momentum, right foot planting just behind left for leverage. Just as the rusted dagger comes swinging down towards the female, quick reflexes raise her own dagger to meet in a clash and ring of metal on metal. Hilt guards lock then, allowing her free hand to reach for the male's wrist in an attempt to twist and press the nerves that'll allow for the numbing of said hand. From the corner of her eye, the movement of his free hand is caught and a snear twists her lips once more. A fragment of rock breaks open a gash just above her ear, a trickle of blood seeping from the wound earned when she turns her head to avoid being blinded. With a low growl of irritation and through a wave of dizziness, the lycan brings her right knee into play, aiming a well placed joint, the knee of course, for Kjarden's stomach. Failing that, that most male part of his anatomy before wrenching her dagger away and dancing back out of his reach.
Kjarden grunts, obviously disheartened his tricky, although dirty, attack did not meet its hopeful target. The Lycan did not have much time to think on this, as his right wrist is grasped, and forcefully squeezed. It was not enough to make him lose control of his blade, but it was enough to enrage him. As for the quick knee, however, a simple block of his own right shin would provide enough of a defense to protect his stomach, as well as his… manly bits. The sting of the collision of bone against bone was only a minimal distraction from his intent. That right hand of his just wouldn’t regain any feeling. The rogue Lycan shakes his hand quickly, trying to throw off the numbness, yet to no avail. This does not disturb him the slightest. Shrugging his shoulders, the blade is quickly discarded to the side, and wicked long claws lifted in the daggers stead. Quickly, Kjarden runs after the backpedaling Mahri, both hands are lifted back, and once within close proximity, unleashed ‘pon the Lycaness. A flurry of blows meant for her face, neck, and torso would ensue; his face harboring a look born of pure animalistic instincts.
Mahri isn't going to lose her wits just because her knee is a bit banged up now, nor is she going to allow her wolf free reign when the lycan comes for her with claws extended. The giddiness that wants to bubble into laughter is suppressed as she allows for him to once more race towards her. This time, when she reaches for the swinging arms with her left hand it's to jerk forward and fall backwards, lifting a foot to plant it in the bigger male's gut and push, hopefully sending him up and over while completing the reverse summersault to land with both knees pinning down shoulders, the grasped for arm released and the silver blade poised to sever an artery in the male's throat. It's about then, when she's looking down if her maneuver was successful, that she notices the parted material of her loose shirt and a thin line of blood that trickles down and over her exposed belly. Bringing down the silver dagger, her aim changes from throat to the shoulder joint of his left arm, intending to part flesh and tendons or even a small cut for the natural poison of the blade's material to work its way into the male's body.
Kjarden exhales sharply, his very air ripped violently from his lungs once that brutal kick slams into his stomach. Now it was his turn to backpedal, though it was done more to keep his own balance, rather than to get away from the female. This would in turn, change the outcome of her hopeful attack, and keep him from harms way, for the moment. Whereas the opposite Lycan was seemingly locking away her… bestial nature, Kjarden did not, and refused to. He enjoyed the hunt. That rage and blood lust was utter rapture. Once he regains his breath, another attack is launched. The Rogue Lycan springs forward, literally jumping out of his skin, and changing almost instantly into a half-man, half-wolf. Charcoal fur encases his sinewy body, blood red eyes lit up with anticipation as those now even more deadly claws are swung at her with a hope of tearing flesh from bone. The impact of this, now massive, creature was enough to do it's own damage, should he indeed miss with his claws.
Mahri is jerked forward when Kjarden changes course. With a grunt that sounds more like a growl, she drops to the ground, thrusting both dagger and fingers into the soil. Eyes on the shifting lycan, the alpha twists her fingers into the ground and forcefully utters a single word. One that was taught at a young age in a forgotten language that has the ground trembling violently beneath the feet of the hybrid wolf. Small fissures appear and swiftly widen just enough to catch an unwary step and twist an ankle or break a leg. As if that weren't enough, another series of arcane syllables escape, drawing from the depths of the ground forgotten seeds that have lain dormant for years, possibly centuries. From these come vines, thick and thin, whip-like as the twist and roll up from the gapping ground to reach for the male. Tentacles unfurl and roil, searching for their prey, the almost sentient veggitation seeks to wrap around a leg and creep over the furred form of Kjarden, pulling him to the ground in their serpentine grasp.
Kjarden growls with frustration at missing his prey, whom simply ducked to avoid his assault? An enraged werewolf lands in a skidding halt on the opposite side of Mahri, face skidding across the earthen floor. The Lycan cannot help but nearly slip into a crevice, which opens up like some big black maw, ready to gulp him whole. Yet his footing is quickly regained, and the rogue springs into a nearby tree, remedying the cursed ground. The vines that undoubtedly follows him to up the tree, are met with raking claws, and snapping jaws; his blood thirsty rage being taken out on this apparently living… thing. A few make purchase, lashing across his arms, only to be ripped away violently, and causing crimson, stinking liquid to begin flowing freely. Soon, the mayhem ends, and the beast is left within the tree, shoulders rising and falling with heavy breathing, red eyes glowing from within his shadowy confines.