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When Hunters Become the Hunted ... [Yuna&Alleyway Ravager's 1x1]

He thrusts began to slow as Redfang braced his legs for the final assault. His large hang grabbed the cheeks of her ass, pulling them apart as he spread her as much as he could. His knot was barely inside of her, something he planned to rectify, and she was as tight as a virgin should be. He licked his muzzle in anticipation. This would be fun. "Take it, bitch."

Pulling down hard on her he dragged her up and over the barrel onto his knot as he pushed forward, the bulge having much more difficulty than the head of his cock did when spreading her virgin tunnel. Heaving grunts and pants accompanied each push as took her in an act that most other lycan simply gave up on with human women. This girl would feel it though. She would definitely know what it was like to be completely filled with lycan cum.

Finally the midsection of his knot began to slide in, the widest part of it forcing its way inside the crying teenager. Her struggled were futile as he let out a loud and long howl, his hips suddenly surging forward as he forced himself inside of her. With his knot in place, sealing the cum that was to come, he began fucking again in earnest, his grunts mixed with wolfish laughter at his domination of her.
 

At this point, Celeste had given into logic and was letting her own instincts take over. They were all saying this was impossible ... this wouldn't fit. Or if it did, she'd be damn lucky to walk afterwards. "Please please don't! NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" As it went from the first bit to half, she felt her muscles squeezing as frantically as she was squirming against the Lycan. Diana ... Juno ... Venus .... someone! Please! Make this stop! They hadn't seriously abandoned her now ... had they? The thought made her tremble more.

By the time the entire knot slipped in, she hadn't even noticed the lycan playing with her ass. If any human was still alive within Verona ... they definitely would know she was also as she screamed; longer and louder than she had been the whole time. After a couple attempts to pull away, her eyes widened in horror. That ... thing was ... stuck? "....Oh gods ...." Her head shook in disbelief. This ... wasn't really happening, was it? The continued thrusts she felt, burying the knot and cock deeper into her, said otherwise.

Her body stopped at that point, feeling there really was no escape. Burying her face in her hands, she felt herself shaking hard. Her body had been confused on how to react for so long. The knot slipping in ... seemed to have activated some sort of switch. All she knew was she felt so very full and her muscles were squeezing more around every inch. She went quiet ... as she tried to understand what she was feeling. What's happening?! Why ... why am I getting drenched? Her face buried itself deeper in her trembling hands as more confused moans began leaving.
 
His nerves were going crazy the way she was squeezing him, her tight core squeezing him for all he was worth. And she was so fucking wet! Humans were usually dry and screaming, but this one...wet and quite. An infuriating combination, if the feeling was highly pleasurable.

Grunting over her, his fur-covered body dipping back and forth, he could see the frightened girl hiding in her hands as if trying to hide her moans. That sent a deep growl from the bottom of his chest out. "No, my little bitch." He grabbed her by the hair, wrenching her face out of her hands and pulling it up to meet him. "You will watch this! I want you to witness how the gods have placed you here to be fucked by me and my kind!"

He suddenly pulled back from the barrel, the knot pulling her along with him as he grabbed her legs for support. Standing on his hind legs he lifted her up into the air, her back hitting against his chest as he forced her up and down his length. His muzzle rested just over her head, grinning as he gave her a clear view of his knot tying them together. "Behold the power of the sons of Mars!" He held her legs wide open letting her sexual juices that had already been sliding otu when he knot filled her slide down between them, dripping down his thighs and into his fur. From this view it was also highly apparent that they were not alone, the dark forms of his fellow lycans watching from the shadows, eager for their leader to finish his conquest.
 

Another scream - though this one mingled with anger and frustration - left as her hair got pulled back. It shook adamantly in the Lycan's grip as her eyes quickly shut. "No ... I won't. I'm not .... yours .... " Keeping her eyes closed, she began relying on her hearing and other senses to help her figure out what was going on. Unfortunately, she didn't think of another factor in the process of doing this. The knot seemed even bigger somehow ... making her gasp and shudder. ...W..what now?

Her juices ... were falling faster? Why?! A few more growls not too far off hinted ... gods they weren't alone? It made her eyes close tighter. ".... No more ... please ...." She pleaded, trying to pull her legs back together. Being raped like this was bad enough; being exposed? And in front of more of the enemies? It wasn't helping her at all. Still trembling, she felt herself squeezing. Every time she tried to make her muscles stop, they seemed to do the exact opposite ... and wrap faster, tighter around the cock. Another frustrated scream left ... as she felt another weird sensation. "I ... ahhhhh!" Though she didn't understand it, she could feel she was close to her peak.
 
He could feel his knot bulging, readying to seal her off to accept his seed. He picked up the pace, his strong arms bouncing her on his shaft faster and faster trying to make it impossible for her to ignore what was happening. He could smell her confusion, her fear, and her burning sexuality. She would make a fine bitch for the pack. Briefly he considered keeping her for himself, but no. Too young. He needed someone more experienced, stronger to bear his pups.

"Ready bitch?" he growled, his body tensing up as he felt himself on the edge. "SCREAM!" His neck craned back as he let out a ferocious howl, his black fur bathed in the orange glow of the fires around them. Hot, thick cum exploded from the head of his shaft inside of her, filling her insides with his seed. With his knot connecting them both it had only one place to go, filling her womb and walls with cum as more and more shot out into her. As her insides grew heavier his pack brothers let out their own howls to match his own, the night sky filling with the cries of wolves wallowing in their victory.
 

No retort of any kind left. No nod of her head, no verbal reply ... nothing. She was still trying to understand why her body was acting the way it was and - a bit more importantly - what was happening. She could feel something trying to build up ... but she didn't know what it was or if there was a meaning to it. Letting a few strands of hair remain in the Lycan's hand, she pulled her head away, whimpering in agony as she placed her head back in her hands. A lot of her wanted to die ... right then and there. The pain and humiliation was almost too much. A lot of her questioned what was making her want to live at all anyways?

Panting and moaning, her head weakly shook no. Then again, it didn't matter it seemed on if she would be ready or not. Her body gave in ... as she came. But even with her stuck like this, she did not want to give him anymore pleasure or satisfaction. Moving her left hand away from her face, she hesitated for a few seconds .... before biting down into her right arm. A muffled whimper - near scream left at the contact of her own skin, blood falling as her teeth broke through. If she had to scream ... or do anything for that matter .. it would be because she did it on her own whim, not the lycan's.

Tears fell down her face as she kept firm contact with her arm, breathing and panting heavily through her nose. Letting her teeth move off from her arm, she shakily covered her breasts, trying to regain even the slightest bit of composure. Her head lulled forward as she felt fatigue beginning to overtake her. "No more ... please...." She murmured, not sure how much more she could endure. But the feeling of the knot still very hard and stiff inside her suggested .. it would be longer than she wanted before he was done.
 
He let loose another howl, the echoes of it trembling in her backside through his chest, as she came around his cock. Their juices mixing, trapped inside of her by his knot, felt hot to touch where they joined. As he slowly came down from his sexual high the lycan pack leader lowered her to the ground as he sought to rest. He let her nude body, riddled with scratch marks, bruises, and sweat, fall to the ground in front of him. Her hips stayed propped up in the air against him though, her body still trapped by the hard bulge that connected them. Getting on all fours over her he spied his fellow wolves watching him, looking on in respect. [undefined=undefined]"Heh heh heh..." [/undefined]his deep voice chuckled over her. [undefined=undefined]"Waiting their turn..."[/undefined] he let the threat hang in the air, letting her experience the fear of it.

His claws wrapped around her neck, drumming aloung her skin as he raised her head off the ground. "How many wolves will it take to make you scream?" he whispered as he slowly ground against her. "Two? Ten? Twenty? You're city is mine, you're people will be slaves. And you...you will be lower than a slave. A pack bitch, used by any wolf for his pleasure."
 

Her head shook no weakly. Even with her voice now being hoarse, there were still hints within it -- determination. She didn't quite understand what it was ... but something was begging for her to hold on; to not give up. "...None. I'm not ... going to. Not for you ... not for any of them. I do what I want ... on my accord." Feeling and realizing she was now on all fours, her mind had tried to block out the rest of his words; especially regarding that even after he was done, the others would have turns.

Her head slowly - reluctantly - looked up. Anxious eyes gazed around and tried to do a quick head count. ... Too many. Maybe if the bow had stayed intact ... Cursing mentally, her head lowered, looking away from the rest of the lycans before her eyes. Once his claw made contact with her skin, her left hand quickly guarded the fragile destination, placing it in front of her neck. Her eyes looked back up for something .... anything to help? Even a spare blade within reach would do something for her. Keeping her hand in front of her neck, she moved her head away from the claws.
 
"Hmph. Insolent," his hand tightened over her one, squeezing it against her neck as she tried to protect herself. "The bitch says she does what she wants while bent over, ass up, and with a cock inside of her." His other hand moved over her bottom, rubbing her warm, scratch-covered skin. "And how wet you are...that was done on your accord?" He pressed his hips down for emphasis, his knot pressing into her. Some of his seed, undoubtedly mixed with her own release, leaked out from her now. "Your city fell to us. What hope do you have? The claws over her ass flexed at that, digging over her skin until they found her asshole. Grinning he poked his thumb against the tight ring, adjusting himself lightly to make room. To shove anything in their now, with his knot still in her, would have been an impossibility.

Or just very painful.

His fun was stopped by the presence of anther wolf, one separating himself from the rest of the pack to approach them. Though the threat was real, the other wolves would indeed have their turn with her, their where other women to be had at the moment and work to be done. A few remained behind, watching their leader and exploring the buildings around them. The city would be burnt of course, nothing left behind for anyone else, but her resources! Food, livestock, people, tools, books, all of it would be taken as bounty. That would take some time but pillaging a cites corpse was something the wolves were getting good at.

The other wolf approached on all fours, bowing his head in respect. "Redfang..."

Redfang responded by lashing out, shaking the young girl under him as he bared his fangs at the intruder. The other wolf did not flinch, the action apparently not so much a threat as their was of things? It would have been difficult for Celeste to understand the world of the wolves. Though if Redfang had his way she would find herself underneath the lot of them.

The other wolf continued, his human speech much more rough and foreign from him. Each word seemed to be a task. "City...ours. Last human fighter...killed...his corpse dragged to the others. Victory!" He stood proudly in front of Redfang, chest puffed out, looking almost like one of the humans dogs expecting a treat from its master. "Many things...women! Children! Food!"

Redfang let out something like a growl only much more pleasant-sounding, almost a purr but far to canine. "A celebration is in order...!" With a sharp tug he freed his knot from her once-virgin body, a torrent of thick cum spilling out from between her nether lips as he left her laying on the dirt. Laughing he grabbed the same barrel he had laid her out on and propped it up, the sloshing sound of some kind of liquid inside giving a hint to its contents. "Yes..." he sniffed the rim of the barrel. "This will do." Raising one arm he brought it down hard on the rim of the barrel, breaking his fist through the top and ripping it off. He threw the piece of wood hard to the ground beside her body, the wood splintering off into sharp pieces of various sizes.

"A drink!" he toasted, holding the barrel of dark red wine open for himself. Pushing his head in face-first he greedily lapped up the human concoction, the alcohol burning his wound but not stopping him. The other wolf laughed at the sight as did some of the others watching from the sidelines, on or two ushering in a new howl of victory.
 

Even with the verbal assault, she didn't reply to the Lycan. She had meant it when she swore to herself he wouldn't get anymore satisfaction from her. Retorting and trying to back herself up would count in his eyes. As his hand tightened over hers, she began to choke and cough. Feeling her ass get teased and played with, she bit down on her lower lip. He'd already shown her begging wouldn't do anything, so she had been waiting. Thankfully, however, another one of the wolves interrupted and made him forget about his physical acts upon her body.

Her heart sank at the news. If they'd really killed all but her ... the chance of her parents having survived this just went from what she used to believe it to be, around 20% or so, to 0%. A sharp gasp mixed with a hiss of pain was the only thing she allowed to leave as the knot was yanked roughly out. Her arms trembled but they kept her from falling on her face. Gazing back around, she found the fire nearby ... and got an idea at the sight of the alcohol.

It hurt like hell to move ... but if she didn't try, she probably would die. Crawling shakily towards the broken quiver, she smiled as she found the arrows to have been intact. This was - had to be - the best sign that during this night, Diana had not fully abandoned her. Her hint of having remained merely ... was altered to make it seem like she had indeed left. Smirking, she grasped three of the arrows. That should be all that the girl would need.

Crawling back to the fire, noting the others had been too occupied to 'take their turn' with her, she put each arrow to the fire. Lighting the tips, she then tossed one after another, forming a triangle around the Lycans. Not only did they surround them all, but they all landed into at least one of the alcohol-soaked areas that was now around them all, thanks to the rough opening of the barrel. It would keep them still .... allow her the chance to get to Sparta. She would live ... and personally hunt and kill Lycans after this night. Giving only an arrogant smirk to Redfang first, she turned and ran ... knowing even if he would want to try to go after her, the fire would need to be dealt with first. And from she had just seen, there was nothing - not immediately close by anyways - to help put it out.
 
It took quite a bit of wine to get a lycan drunk but Redfang was well on his way there. The other wolves laughed and howled around him, a small celebration breaking out leaving Celeste ignored while she made her plans. Throwing his soaked head back, wine splashing up around him Redfang let out a howl of his own, his good eye only catching the the small fireball when it was too late.

Immediately he looked in her direction, their eyes meeting once as she got back to her feet to run. How...? She shouldn't be able to run after what he had done to her. Where was that...human...getting the strength? The grim realization that he had severely underestimated the human female entered his mind just as the alcohol ignited and traveled up the height of the barrel. Instinct taking over his leg shot out and kicked it over but it was far too late, the resulting fireball sending the group of lycans back several feet as the street erupted into flame. Redfang screamed in agony, fire overtaking him as he fell to the streets rolling in the dirt along with his fellows. Chaos took over, the lycans on the outskirts believing another attack was taking place and fanning out to locate the human army the assumed was meeting them. The sound brought more wolves from the square, the better disciplined pack quickly organizing something to get the fire out as they couldn't allow too many flames to take the city before they were through with it. Howls echoed through the city of carious pitches and tones, a kind of signalling to let others know what was happening.

And Redfang...no matter how far she had gotten she would have heard his howl apart from the others. Long, loud, and angry, the lycan was making her a promise that one day he would find her. And on that day she had best take her own life least he get his hands on her first.
 

Before the fire got too high, Redfang would see an aura of sorts. It was the only thing giving her strength at the moment because otherwise, he was right. The last thing she should be doing was crawling, then getting up. Before it could be identified as to which exact goddess had helped her out, that was when the fire became too much. It also was when a light shiver trailed down the teenager's body -- when she heard, very distinctly, Redfang's second howl. Compared to the first one from the eye injury, this one had been louder; a feat that seemed hard to believe were it not for the fact she definitely heard it.

Mourning the entire run now that she didn't have to worry about feeling weak for crying, she would find a place to make camp at. It would be much too far to reach Sparta in one night. She would - at least - find somewhere to remain hidden away from the Lycans though. The aura remained even as she cried herself to sleep.

Days turned to weeks; weeks to months and months to years. Even though the now 21 year old Celeste had grown up, her mind had never been able to forget the night Verona fell. It had taken several months for her to have actually arrived within Sparta. But once she did manage to find it and speak with the leader, they agreed to eagerly take her in. Her surviving such an act was a blessing from Minerva and Ares; to them anyways. Ergo, she would be a valuable aspect with their army despite their typical preference in training more men over women.

The same double shot trick she had used upon Redfang was now mastered, improved even to a triple one. Her hair was longer, her eyes more determined, her body more defined. Her bust had grown to a rather respectable 38D. Though it had been done a bit late, she had been approached and proposed to by Cleomenes, one of the best tacticians throughout Sparta.

With the future of Sparta seeming to get better, between their massive expansion and the future wedding that would occur between Celeste and Cleomenes, it seemed as if nothing could go wrong. The main obstacle that now seemed to remain was the very obvious growth and expansion of another group; though ironically, it wasn't from a city-state. But rather ... the Lycans and the slightly sinking feeling within Celeste's heart was making her certain that somewhere in the midst of those ranks was Redfang.

This time, however, they would go to the Lycans; not vice versa. It had taken a while but some scouts had managed to find a good portion of them. Now clad in more appropriate studded leather armor, a cape draped over her shoulders to signal her rank as a commander, the more impressive thing was the new longbow and quiver she had been given as gifts upon being proposed to. It was said to be blessed by Diana herself. The quiver would forbid her from ever running out of arrows as it would continue to replenish any ammunition that got used. Not only that, but the tips of these arrows were blessed with silver tips to better wound the Lycans. Both the longbow and arrows were made to be much sturdier than her last one. Even some of the best heroes had tested it and not so much as a bend or break had threatened the arrows or bow.

Standing 100 feet away from where the Lycans were supposed to be hiding, Celeste raised a hand up. "Regardless of the results, fear nothing! Be proud of all you accomplish, in life or death!" Notching three silver arrows the seemed to glow in the moonlight, she pulled back on the string of her bow, adjusting her aim. "Melee warriors, await for them to arrive! Only then do you proceed! Archers .... take aim with me!" The simultaneous pull of more strings rang through Celeste's ears.

Gazing back out of the corner of her eye, she waited for all to be ready. Letting her eyes refocus on their original target, she counted down from ten in her head. Once it hit zero, she cried out, "FIRE!" Soon, a volley of arrows would fly out, though only Celeste's had silver. Some were normal, others had fire as well. All the same, the amount added up to well over one thousand arrows; all beginning to rain down upon the area where the Lycans were and - if any were unfortunate enough - some of the creatures themselves.
 
The lycan empire had steadily grown throughout the years, their aggressive expansion only checked when they stopped to consolidate their power every few years. Even so their empire was far stronger than the few hundred-strong packs they sent to Verona, their numbers now in the thousands and boasting the resources of several grand cities behind them. War had brought them supplies, resources, and most importantly: slaves. The empire was built on the backs of human slaves. Their grand city of Rome, named for their Alpha Romulus, was built from the sweat and toil from those they had conquered. The stories men spoke about Rome were horrendous, with the blood sacrifice of human children happening in the streets every day. Women were raped repeatably, their bodies eaten when they were no longer appeasing. And the life of a human in the empire...better to die by your own sword then let them add your town to their own.

Of course no one really knew for sure what went on in the Roman Empire as none had ever ventured far within it.

The lycans stood in formation, their dark forms nestled in the forest adjacent of the Spartan army. Fangs barred and lips curled the forest was alive with the low sound of barely held back growls and snarls. Each one was ready to fight, kill, and even die for Rome, but not before taking out a least a dozen Spartans for each wolf. The smells of humans carried on the wind, mixed with the smoke from their torches and the leather of their armor, let the wolves know their enemy was just as prepared to fight as they were. With all the confidence the wolves carried they knew this would be no one-sided slaughter of a town. They were up against a human army, a real army, one that could threaten Rome herself if left unchecked. They would be victorious however, knowing their General had not lost a campaign yet.

Redfang marched before his troops, bronze armor looking new in the haze of moonlight around them. For all the years that had passed his mind always returned to the night they sacked Verona. Upon his return to what would become Rome he had been hailed as a hero, their Alpha Romulus giving him high honors and his pick of females and and any other slaves he desired. The affair with the human teenager, the fire she started, had been but a footnote in the story of how they had hunted through the streets and killed Verona's warriors. But Redfang couldn't forget and couldn't forgive. His reflection always chanted him, her arrogant smirk as she threw those flaming arrows looking back at him. His eye had never healed from her injury, the organ now a moonlit white contrasting with his dark fur. The fire had seen fit to scar his as well as if Mars himself was punishing him for his failure, leaving several patches of mangy fur along his chest and right arm. No, he would never forget Celeste and the sight of her running away...

That aura...he had not been sure if he had seen it then but now he had no doubts. Why?! What goddess would help her?! What deity would favor her over him?! He had gone to the priests, sacrificed in the temples many times thinking of this. It was only recently when scouts returned with news from Sparta that an answer finally came to him. One that seemed right and just, one that made the years fighting for Rome all the more worth it. The stories of the Spartan women, who could kill three men with one shot and killed every Lycan she found. He had known the moment they described her to him that it was her. And now, with the wind picking up around him he was sure. Her scent, burned into his mind with fire, was easy to pick out amongst the army she commanded. She had come far, but then again, so had he.

He looked over his legion, his pack. Each was donned in tough leather armor, the higher ranking ones wearing metal like his own. But these were not the trinkets taken from the corpses of their enemies. Their armor was forged within the empire itself, the lycans slowly raising themselves up above the status of mere beast. Still they wore little, the armor designed to allow ease of movement while sacrificing some protection. No lycan carried a weapon though for none would use more than their fangs and claws on their prey. The Spartans knew this and would use it to their advantage, but Redfang had a few surprises of his own.

All at once humans lifted themselves up from besides the lycans, large heavy shields raising up and offering protection from the attack. The wolves dug for cover as the volly fell upon them, some arrows deflecting to the ground, some getting stuck in the shields, and some hitting their targets and causing roars of pair throughout the pack. Redfang stood his ground, unflinching as the arrows fell around him. With lighting reflexes he snatched one out of the air in front of him as two lycan by his side fell down dead. He sniffed the silver-tipped weapon and grinned. The hunt was on.

"Archers!" More humans moved in from behind the lycans, launching their own rain of arrows. Their numbers were no mach for the arrows of the Spartans, no more than a hundred or so, but Redfang knew the humans would not expect it. With luck it would sow chaos through their army, but if this 'Spartan woman" was the commander they said she was he was sure she would hold them together.

With another roar he fell on all fours and commanded his wolves. "ATTACK! HUNT! KILL!" The cry was echoed by the lycans as the surged forward, knowing that soon enough the battleground would be soaked with blood.
 

The returning of the volley was indeed something that Celeste had not quite seen coming. Thankfully, however, Spartans were famous for a very specific item. "SHIELDS UP!" Letting her longbow temporarily hang around her right arm, she pulled a massive diamond-shaped shield as did most of the others. Not all were fast enough to get them as most of the others hadn't expected this type of retort. Then again, she couldn't blame them. Lycans using arrows was something even rarer than their own race. It wouldn't be fair for her to lash out on them not having done the 'proper' procedures when this wasn't the typical enemy to expect such a tactic from.

Those whom had, however, been able to get them up let them fall down as the rain of arrows stopped. Following suit with those whom remained standing up, she put the shield upon her back and beside her quiver. "THOSE IN MELEE ... ADVANCE NOW! THOSE WITH BOWS OR CROSSBOWS ... STAY BESIDE ME!" Notching three more arrows, always taking a step back after every shot, she shot as figure after figure came to her eyes. She would always look for Redfang. He would be there; that she had no doubts on.

What she did, unfortunately, have uncertain feelings on was how close he would truly be to the front. Tactic-wise, he would probably be more near the back, waiting for the perfect time to ambush. But then again, he could as easily be near the front, knowing she would not see that coming either. A bit of a frown crossed her lips as she kept her focus in front of her. She would continue firing ... up until too many were far too close. When that happened, she would give another order.

"EVERYONE ... SWITCH!" An array of blades - even from the archers - were pulled out. This, she knew, was a risky tactic given Lycans were almost always best with toe-to-toe fighting. However, they weren't just any blades either. "WITH THE SILVER-BLESSED BLADES THAT VULCAN MADE AND DIANA BLESSED, WE SHALL DEFEAT THEM! DO NOT STOP UNTIL YOU BREATHE YOUR LAST BREATH!" Raising a longsword, she gave out one last cry, "FOR GLORY ... VICTORY ..... AND DEFENDING SPARTA!"

And at the last word leaving her lips, they all charged. The first set of footmen had the same swords and if the Lycans had yet to notice, they would soon enough. Blades danced in the air, sounds that hinted people were quickly hitting - or sometimes missing - their targets echoed. Screams and cries of agony, victory, even a few of fear resounded.

For a bit, Celeste stayed back ... watching. She was trying to ignore the racing of her heart. Her head shook no quickly as she reminded herself that she was stronger and smarter now. Besides, it would seem hypocritical of her to remain still while all the others had been so obedient to her. It wouldn't be right for her to keep staying near the back. She had only remained there for but a minute. Exhaling deeply, she then sent up another silent prayer; though not only to Diana but also Juno. It had been revealed in a dream years ago it had been her - the Queen of the Gods and protector of Women - whom had given her the aura.

With a lot more confidence and now two goddesses on her side, she charged forward. Though she was normally better at archery, it was obvious a few things from it were aiding her in being rather swift at swinging a sword. Because of how fast she had to pull back on the string and take aim - no matter how many arrows she used - her speed with swinging the longsword was much faster than it should have been. Since archery relied so much on aim, her own was as accurate; as if she were still using her longbow. Thrusting through the midsections or slashing across the throats of each Lycan, she would then move onto the next. As she continued to repeat this pattern, her eyes would keep looking, gazing about .... for Redfang. She knew for years that when they met again, on the battlefield or otherwise, things would get very personal. All that had been occurring before now was nothing. The real fights were about to begin ...
 
Redfang joined the lycan berserkers in the front lines of combat, meeting the Spartan army head-on. The berserkers were the most feral of lycans, their animal instincts barely kept in check by what little rational thought they possessed. One couldn't rely on them to use sound tactics on the battlefield as they could do little else but charge at their prey and kill everything in their path, even if it led to their destruction. It had been enough challange to keep them from turning on the humans in their own ranks. But what they lacked in mental prowess they more than made up for with sheer ferocity, Redfang knowing that for every beserker felled at least several Spartans would go down with it. A small sacrifice for Rome, even if Redfang didn't expect many of them to survive.

He was close behind them, leading the charge of the legions. These were the true wolves, smart and strong, their hunters instincts as sharp as their claws. Under Redfang's leadership the pack split into two colums, his second in command leading one while he took the other, as they began to go around the Spartans and attack from the sides while the beserkers kept them busy in the front. Several tacticians had come to Redfang, most of them human, saying he should not be in the front lines and that the general's place was in the back to lead. Redfang had dismissed the idea. Tactically sound yes, but it was not the lycan way. One could not lead from behind.

It was a bloodbath. Teeth met steel and silver as the two armies collided. The beserkers seemed to feel no pain even when the silver weapons were drawn and pierced their flesh. Unfortunately this made it far to easy for the Spartans to whittle the beasts down, hacking away at the creatures until they fell atop a pile of Spartan dead. But they did their part, allowing Redfang and his legion the entry they needed on the battlefield. The sight of silver-blessed weapons made some lycans hesitate, their weakness to the metal one of the few things they feared. The sight of Redfang jumping into the middle of a Spartan grouping, claws tearing the humans limb from limb, urged them forward despite the humans new weapons.

Redfang could only see red now, tearing through Spartans like they were paper. Many charged forward at him hoping to earn the title of hero by slaying the fearsome general only for him to quench his thirst with their blood. The lycan stood tall over the human warriors, moving swiftly against their ranks and unleashing the wraith of Mars upon each one. He almost lost himself in the frenzy when he felt it, the burning sensation in his bad eye. It was a families feeling, one he sometimes felt on the full moon, but now it felt like it had a purpose behind it. Then he saw it, in the corner of blackness that marked his lost vision, the burning figure standing out amongst the Spartans.

It was slight, like the aura he had seen on her so long ago, but now it wasn't aiding her. This one was for him, to guide him to his prey. Mar surely was looking upon him now as his eyes met hers across the battlefield, the beautiful female warrior with a sword dripping in lycan blood. He felt a stirring inside of him at the sight of, her full figure so much more developed than the young girl he had taken all those years ago. Now she was a woman and the most worthy prey on the battlefield. He could see everything so clearly now, the fighting around him falling away as a path seemed to open up between them. This would end tonight, here and now. For the first time he thought he stood a chance of dying by her hand, but the thought was soon pushed away. He was Redfang, and he would bring his prey down.

Time returned to him suddenly, the burning aura dissipating as quickly as he had seen it, and he charged forward. Spartan's moved in front of him trying to stop his movement only to be thrown back or ripping apart. Nothing would keep him from getting his claws on her!
 

The mix of charging and some wincing from nearby made Celeste quickly turn. Even with her knowing he would be here .. it did not mean she was looking forward to this. "MOVE AWAY! THAT ONE IS MINE!" Oh she definitely got a few confused looks ... to which she retorted with her own glare. "DID I STUTTER?! MOVE AWAY! FOCUS ON THE REST!" Her heart was now most definitely racing, an adrenaline rush beginning to take over her body. It was mainly thanks to all she was feeling - along with motives of her own - that made her charge forward, a display of a new-found courage she never had years ago. Not never, though not often enough for certain.

"THIEF! I WILL MAKE YOU PAY FOR ALL YOU TOOK!" Her hands were steady, her grip firm as she swung the longsword at the tall and massive form. That had been another that had altered; her height. She wasn't too much shorter than Redfang; not compared to what she could be. Standing at a full height of five feet nine inches, her blade went for the Lycan's neck. This ... would be the quickest way to end it all, she knew. Take the life from Redfang .. and the Spartans would win due to a huge drop in morale. She also knew, however, that just because it would be the quickest method would not - unfortunately - make it the easiest one.
 
He returned her cry with an inhuman snarl, dodging her longsword as it aimed for his neck. He could almost feel the anger radiating from her, the silver longsword acting as a vessel for all of it. He stepped back again from the next swing, and the next, waiting for the precise moment to strike. He let out a grunt of pain as the silver made contact once, cutting his arm as easily as if he had been a human. It burned as well, but after Verona he was used to the feeling. Still, he needed to get past that sword and get in close if he wanted to finish this.

He lashed out at her, claws going for her limbs every time she gave him an opening. They were just test though, seeing her speed and reflexes react to him. Then he saw it, the opening he needed. As her sword came down on him his arm went out and deflected the blade with his bronze armor on his forearm. He barely deflected the sharp blade but allowed him the moment he needed to swipe at her chest.
 

Celeste had stepped back; but not fast enough. And with her going toe-to-toe ... she did need to remain close to the bastard to even have a chance to hit him. The fact she had gotten some of her hits to connect fueled her on ... her speed with her swings going faster it seemed. Her eyes widened as she had finally seen what he was going for; but a few seconds too late. Shuddering, she covered the wound, refusing to drop her blade. "....B...bastard .... " She hissed, screaming in agony as she took another swing, though this time one handed as opposed to using both.

Quite the number of simultaneous voices, all screaming things along the lines of, "Lady Celeste!" rang out. Many had been around the two to try to make up for not being able to aid out. Her head shook adamantly, "I SAID KEEP GOING UNTIL YOU CAN'T ANYMORE! FOCUS ON THEM, NOT ME!" Even with her trying to slow - stop even with enough pressure - the bleeding, she was losing more than ceasing. This ... was it, wasn't it? She doubted he'd seriously spare her; not after everything.

Ready to accept everything .... save perhaps the fall of this army, she moved her hand away from the bleeding wound. Keeping her eyes upon Redfang, her head shook after a bit. "SHIFT PLANS! RETURN TO SPARTA! NOW!"

"And leave you?! But --- "

"YOU WOULD IGNORE MY ORDERS?! GO! SPARTA NEEDS YOU ALL MORE! GO!"

Those that could turn and get out alive began - though it was clear in their movement and eyes - reluctantly obeying. It seemed Celeste had gone from being a small, scared girl to an actual warrior. Keeping her eyes upon Redfang as she continued swinging, she kept her ground. "This is between us. Leave them out of it..... or I will, so help you, make you blind somehow .... incapacitated ... unable to ever fight again. Leave them be .... and I will let you kill me. That is, after all, what you want .... is it not?" Still, she wouldn't cease until she got a reply.
 
His claws came back bloody and his hair stood on end. This was it, this was the turning point. As she cried out for her army to retreat he smirked, her concern for her own pack earning her more respect though it did nothing to diminish the anger she caused him. Around them his wolves continued to chase the Spartans down, warriors continuing to fall around them as small packs of lycans took down men.

Still she continued to fight him like a true warrior, egging him on with every swing of her sword and every word she screamed. Still he didn't take the bait, staying just on the edge of her sword as she swung one-handed at him.

"Let me?!" he snarled. "You think I am some pup who needs to be brought half-dead prey? I would slay you as you are now, fighting and SCREAMING!" He clawed out her, missing by inches as her sword struck his other arm. "My legion will tear the stragglers of your army apart, but rest assured that the majority of your retreating army will survive...until our next encounter on the field!"

He moved in again, snarling and clawing at her. "As for you...do you think you be let off that easily?! I will not kill you this day, Spartan bitch. No, I will make sure you live long enough to see Sparta fall and our Empire take all of Greece! So come, blind me if you can!" He surged forward, his claws going for her sword arm and jaws for her throat. His fangs were sharp but he would not let her die so easily, not when he knew the gods meant her for so much more than that.
 

She was annoyed that he wouldn't leave the army alone. But at the same time ... she was simultaneously intrigued. Enough ... to dare to laugh. "Next encounter?! You jest! I do not intend for there to be another time! THIS ENDS NOW!" Though she wasn't a berserker or barbarian in nature, she allowed herself to go as mad as if she were one, forgetting even that she had a rather nasty wound. "Would hm? What's wrong? Gone soft?! No matter ....."

Gazing up while using her peripheral vision to keep her eyes gazing towards him, her voice went higher than it had, "ARES! YOU'VE HEARD HIM! HE HAS SHOWN YOU WEAKNESS BY DISPLAYING MERCY, SOMETHING YOU DO NOT ENCOURAGE .... SO SIDE WITH ME LONG ENOUGH! IF HE WON'T END THIS, LET ME!" Side-stepping to her left to allow his jaws to latch onto her shoulder rather than her throat, she went to thrust her blade through his chest ... through his sternum ... and if not through the heart, at least a lung.
 
He felt the warm rush of blood in his mouth, the familiar taste of her on his tongue as she decried him to the heavens. He had thought victory assured when the burn of silver pierced his flesh, her sword skewering him and doing untold damage to his organs. But he did not back away, did not falter in taking her down to the ground with him. His body atop of hers, his legs barely supporting him as he raised his chest up and pressed his arm to her throat. He was in so much pain, his breath coming out in agonizing spurts. As he pulled away from her wounded shoulder he coughed up blood, his blood.

"Gra....You misunderstand...Spartan Bitch..." he struggled with the words, his head cocked to view her in his one good eye. "You will live...but will not be leaving with your army..." he pulled back slightly, her sword sliding out slightly and scrapping against his armor. "You will see...how merciful I am...when I drag you back to Rome as my slave!"

She would have seen it then, the slight aura that enveloped him. She wasn't the only one with gods on her side. He felt his own urge to laugh, the sight of his blood oozing from his chest and the hatred in her eyes just setting something off in him. His arm pressed harder against her throat, cutting off her air and giving her few options as her main weapon was still lodge in his chest and armor. "YOU DARE CALL WAR UPON A SON OF MARS?! INSOLENT BITCH!"
 

...Is he mad?! He was .... walking forward?! Not ... back? Just that by itself was making her ... uneasy, for a lack of better word. Not only had he gotten closer, but upon a silver blade! For a Lycan .... that was practically like suicide. And the blade had hit it's destination ... so what the hell was he doing? Staring upon Redfang, the only reason that seemed possible with him doing this and living ... was ... was he immortal?! No .... no fucking way .. she tried to convince herself, finally beginning to step back.

"Tch, I will do no such ..." The sight of his own aura made her step back more. The final set of words that made her certain to try to gain distance and get her bow, however, was the hint of his relationship to Mars. "....What?!" That was a lie ... right? She didn't have time to think on it as his hand found her throat. Coughing and gasping her left hand went upon his.

Now here was where it got really annoying. He'd done this once before ... she already knew it'd take both hands to have a chance. So it'd come down to focusing on being able to breath but ignoring her chest wound .... or trying with one hand only, though giving herself a high probability to pass out in the end. Worse off, she knew that if she used both hands, he would have reach of her weapons ... all of them at that matter. Think think think .... ! It seemed stupid ... but in the end, she let go of the hilt of her longblade and began using both hands. Frantically trying to pull the Lycan's hand away from her throat, she continued coughing and gasping.
 
He felt stronger then he ever did before, his blood feeling like it was on fire as she fought against him. He tightened his grip, her one had not enough to slow his assault on her air passage. But he wasn't stupid; he could feel the silver eating away at his insides. When she finally let go of the blade to try and free herself from his grip he took the opportunity, hurling her with one arm away from him and into the muddy earth of the battlefield. Hands free he grabbed the handle of the blade and pulled and for several moments it looked like whips of smoke were escaping the wound as he pulled it out of his chest, a testament to how deadly silver actually was to his kind.

With a grunt of pain the blade finally came loose and he hurled it away from both of them, loosing it in the battlefield. Staggering slightly he charged for her, grabbing her by the hem of her armor and scruff of her neck and hurling her head over heels across the field and against a pile of bodies. Again he was on her, claws slashing at her back as he threw her again. "The Spartan Bitch is out of tricks?! Out of fight!?" he roared at her. The field now clear of her army his lycan brothers were starting to surround them, an audience that silently watched as two small legends fought it out. Redfang continued his assault, never ceasing, never relenting, knowing he couldn't stop until she was unconscious or unable to move. Anything less...and she would probably be the death of them both.
 

Coughing and choking a bit even as she got tossed, she felt herself roll a few times. As she landed and finished blinking her eyes, she noted a ring of sorts had began to form around her. And something told her none of the ones that were already there would even begin to play fair. More than that .... she had to do something about the wound. She had begun to rip the cape off ... before the hem got roughly grabbed. With an "Ngh!" she felt herself tossed yet again, rolling a few more times.

Her head shook. "Tch, don't assume such things ... " She murmured. "Spartans .... know perfectly well how to fight without a weapon .... " Thrusting an elbow back towards his chest, she wouldn't care if that connected or not. It was mainly used to make him move away. Assuming he did, she rolled, getting quickly on her feet. The range wasn't as much as she preferred ... but it would be enough. The bow would also - this time - be much stronger and harder for him to break. With deft fingers, she got her bow out then notched three arrows. Normally, she'd take more time to aim; but she was pressed for that. Letting them fly loose once she got them all ready, she went for three more, shooting a threatening glare at the other lycans surrounding her ... almost daring them to test her as opposed to ensuring their leader would get out of this alive.
 
He fell back a step as she jabbed him in the chest in his bleeding wound. He snarled, lashing out with fangs as she rolled away and managed to lay a hand on her bow. The air around them changed again, ever second slowing to a crawl as she drew her arrows. Three of them...an impressive feat and he found the time to appreciate the hunters eye she had. As her fingers drew back he steadied himself, getting into position as she prepared to loose her killing shot. She hadn't been the only one training all these years. She hadn't been the only one to try and kill him with arrows, though her skill far outmatched any of the others.

As he watched the arrows fly towards him be finally moved. Three arrows...the past repeating itself it seemed. The first missed by inches, the second grazed his skin, and the third would have found its mark in his shoulder...had he not caught it in his hand. The tip had sliced his palm on the way he held the shaft in his fist like a prize, now charging forward as he tossed it aside. She would need time to draw, time he needed to use, and he lunged at her in what could have been a fatal jump if she managed to get her next shot off. He wouldn't let her up this time, wouldn't stop until she was face down in the dirt and his claws digging into her chest until she either begged for mercy or passed out from the pain.
 
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