Fennick vs Straia

[Fennick]

Fennick felt a contented hum of anticipation. There was something deeply satisfying about meeting allies on the battlefield. Surely nothing could strengthen a bond more than blood mutually and willingly spilled. The Valley king smiled, and imagined the way his daughter would roll her eyes. She would call him soft and sentimental. She didn’t realize that war would always be fought for those that followed. This, however, was not war, this was just fun.

Fennick stretched his neck and enjoyed the pop of joints falling into place. His crown had come with a few new tricks, and he was eager to try them out. The stallion’s smile grew dark and mischievous. His eyes twinkled at his sister queen.

“Straia.” He said congenially in way of a greeting.

“Remind me to thank your general for this charming event.” And truly, it was charming. In this moment, Fennick was perfectly happy and contented. He was satisfied in a way he so rarely was. With one more nod at his opponent he leapt towards her. With little fanfare, the battle began.

Fennick enjoyed the surge of power his own muscles gave him. He reveled in the push of his haunches as he raced towards Straia’s right side. He could have covered the distance in three easy strides but before their bodies crashed, he shifted into his new form, a large silver black wolf.

Fennick howled with glee as his fangs stretched toward’s Straia. He intended to mark her ribs with his teeth, just enough for it to hurt. This was a mock after all. As a wolf he was a much smaller, but much deadlier target than he had been as a stallion. He hoped that his last minute shift would disrupt any defense or counter attack Straia had intended. The downside of this form was that a kick could do serious damage. Even as a large wolf, a well aimed back hoof could send him flying. Fennick knew he couldn’t linger long in close combat.

For the briefest moment, Fennick focused on how the wind felt on his face. He inhaled it, captured its essence and shifted again. As the wind itself Fennick soared up and away. With no body to express delight, he felt it inwardly. He felt it wherever his soul stayed when his body changed. When he thought he floating directly above Straia’s back, Fennick shifted back into his wolf form.

As the beast he dropped, jaws snapping, paws splayed. With any luck he would land atop the Chamber queen, and could leave a few bite marks on the crest of her neck. Even through his savage glee and his primal bloodlust, Fennick tried to keep at eye on Straia’s hooves. He liked his dog body, liked the way the animal snarled and snapped, but if need be, he would shift.

His attack completed, Fennick sprung away, putting distance between himself and Straia. He licked his lips and grinned, but this time, instead of a contented smile, there were two rows of pointed, gleaming fangs. Yes, he was certain now, there was no better way to meet an ally than on the battle field.