And we fight.

Ah. His ear flicked, catching the sound of hushed whispers beyond his sight. A short silence.

A bloodcurdling scream from the cavern.

Grimwald sighed, not needing to see what monstrous acts his former king was committing; the sound of crunching bones and the agonized wailing of the pregnant female was enough.

Wretched old fool. He admired his bloodlust, but he could not condone the wanton barbarism of a doomed man. One had to calculate violence carefully, nurture it like a flower, raise it up, then slowly - lovingly - withhold. A little less water. A little less light. Less, and less; then perhaps venture to inflict a little pain, maybe pull out a claw or two, just a few, maybe force the creature to drink snake venom on a whim (but not enough to kill it), make it hallucinate the voices of friends and family come to save it at last - but no.

Gro'Mash was a greedy bastard, and he savored the thrill of instant gratification too much.

If it had been up to him, Grimwald would have allowed the children to grow in captivity all the way up to the point where they started speaking full sentences, just until their mother had invested so much time and love and longing into their developing bodies, and then one by one whisk them away to Thornson for... scientific pursuit.

They would all die anyway. He just wanted to enjoy it a little longer.

Instead, the sudden cacophony of howling wolves on the hunt surrounded their little glade, and thank the gods he wasn't the idiot on the receiving end.

Thornson trotted up, disheveled hair a little more unkempt than usual, expressing his gratitude toward the general for ensuring his safety during this siege - and even went so far as to call him King. The boar's eyebrows shot up, surprised, but said nothing of the title. It would be a discussion better suited to calmer surroundings.

“It is the least I could do, old friend,” Grimwald rumbled, the closest to uttering a statement of affection as he'd ever come. “We need not all suffer for one man's folly. However, I suppose it would be prudent to check in - Gro'Mash is a stubborn old lord, and even the might of one hundred dogs such as these may struggle to fell him.”

The scientist gave him a pointed look.

“Yes,” Grimwald continued reluctantly, “I must ensure his demise.”

Without a further word, he turned and walked up the small hill to their lair, and beheld a truly gruesome scene. Blood, chaos, fangs, tusks, all whipped into a frenzy of violence, and Grimwald waded through the crowd of raging bodies to behold his former liege, roaring and kicking as a pale wolf straddled his back while the other she-wolf who had smelled of brine close at his heels.

He said nothing, standing peacefully at the cave's entrance, looking in.

He hoped Gro'Mash would see him.

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Stupid sharpfang try to take Gro'Mash eye!  Gro'Mash will crunch their bones.   Laughter boomed from the pig as blood red spittle flung from his mouth, ejecting a horrid stench.  The woman had carelessly lashed out towards him directly in the line of his tusks.  With a step back and an upward trust of his head the great pig countered making contact with the flesh of a wolf, or maybe two.  The feeling of tusk on flesh overjoyed the great barrel of a swine. Evidenced by his rotten grin.  

His rotten grin began to fade once he realized that he must have hit a new wolf. Where new sharpfang come from?  Then there was another and another.  The cave was flooding with wolves attacking him and his wife, rushing to his victims and darting around.  

Gro'Mash confused.

"GRO'MASH WILL MAKE YOU SUFFER!", he roared and with a shrill squeal.  Racking his brain over the situation, he looked to the entrance to the cave. 

That was when he saw it:  Grimwald 
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The woman let out a guttural noise as everything went to shit. As three of the pups became meals, everyone seemed to freak out, making the Queen snort in frustration. However, before she got the chance to do anything, she saw the deer thing run towards her. She tried to back away, but underestimated the stupid things speed and reach, feeling the kick to her head. She had backed away enough where it didn't kill her, but it did hurt like a bitch and she was sure she could see stars. 

With a roar of rage, she would scream out, anger filling her words. "Kill them all!" She would aim to try and rush towards @Hawking tusks out. Her goal was to slam into his legs, though her movements were already slightly slowed due to the kick she got to the head.

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Decided to have Ragnar show up for obv his Pack's sake.

---

Valmua's call commanded the attention of the pack and so Ragnar followed it, for every good leader did their best to be there for his pack in all manners. Sindri had been given the wish to stand back, to gather those which remained in their claim and protect it should anything arise there whilst he went beyond, seeking out the pit of the boars and those captured.

He heard cries and squeals, he heard snarls ans roars and he heard the horridous cries of those wolves trapped within.

Ragnar, zoning in on one of them, rushed after the flank of one black and pink boar (@Zifyne) in attempts to sink teeth into the flesh of her thigh and hopefully slow her enough from rushing the...wait, deer!?
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Feline nature drove the cat to wait, hoping the wolves down below had some clever plan to lure the pigs out for an ambush.  Though much like the last time his lupine friends had gone rushing directly in.  Hearing the sounds of combat erupt from the mouth of the stone cave, eventually the striped beast lying in wait could wait no longer.  

Hopping down from the rocky crags above, Kuhn landed into the line of battle. Even to the striped beast, the sight before him was horrifying, boars the size of which he had never seen. The smell of fresh childbirth attacked his sensitive nose and the wails of a crying mother pierced his ears.  

If they where going to do it this way Kuhn would lend his claws, aiding at pushing the boars deeper into the cave.  Throwing a claw filled blow at the first massive swine blocking the way the cat threw all his might into a strike at  @Zifyne the first swine blocking the way.   

"Good of you to join us Ragnar!", he half cheered with a guttural snarl in the midst of throwing another blow into the enemy line, shooting between the gaps of wolves and tusk.
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^^There were not many things that activated Mean Boy Archon. In fact, Archon had the patience of a saint, with the heart of gold - and could hold out on being mean or using his Mean Voice, but tricking him to eat a doctored up ferret, and separating him from his bestest friend in the entire world whilst that friend was still a captive of piggies was just enough to break him.

Nevermind that he had been tossed around and beaten, and now had a series of open wounds. No, no; what was important was that he had, somehow, been released - and now he was going to go back in there and save his friend.

His very best friend in the entire world.

So when they had led him back to the den, Archon released his Mean Voice - a very deep snarl - as he lunged under Harper and straight for whatever pig his friend was actively beating the shit out of. And as she tried to get Hawking with her tusk, Archon made a bold move and went for her face; whatever he could grab.

Honestly, things would have gone a LOT smoother if the majority of them had all teamed up on one pig at a time, and thus, Archon was thrilled when he saw others joining in after the same pig (Zifyne) that he was going after.

^^
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 He thought Archon was dead. Thought this all might be a hopeless endeavor. But at least he would take a pig or two down with him. Starting with this ugly thing. His hooves connected with a sharp force, causing him to have a moment of glee. His first real battle... if only his mother or Archon could see...

 And then--

 He saw the flash of brown as Archon rushed forward and beyond him was his mother. She was here! They were here! He felt joy soar through his chest, joy so strong that he thought he would start to cry. It choked him up and made him falter for a moment.

 But this was no time to get distracted.

 If it weren't for a huge --yuck-- tiger and another wolf, he might have been too distracted and been gored again. However, he managed to dodge to the side. Catching a tusk on one of his legs but not enough to break it or damage him too much. He took a moment to correct himself, look at Archon again with unbridled joy, and then run forward. This time he didn't turn to kick but instead would lash out at one of the boar's legs with a savagely aimed stomp.

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Dust spewing left and right, Absinthe ran as quickly as his legs could carry them. With so much weight to hold, it had proved difficult time and time again; but nonetheless, he pushed onward. He had not been far off when everything hit him. There were weeps of loss, blood from the injured, and a sorrowful, vengeful aura filling the air. 

Once close enough to make out a few figures, the dark dragon sought out Vendrussel in the crowd. He advanced forward, stopping only when near to her flank. “What has happened here... where am I needed?” If he even was needed. As it seemed, he'd just about missed all the fun. If not a dire situation, the dragon would have sunk his head in guilt and embarrassment. Shortly after promising his aid in the battle he knew to come, he had been absent entirely. He had reason, but it was no excuse... there was no excuse fitting enough for this.
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^^

no mind me, just taking the opportunity to kill off another museless character.

---

Late to the party as always, Belial was in his own little world for most of everything. He hadn’t cared about Vendrussel killing some kid he had not known; had not been sure what to do about the boar situation, as they’d tried to take one of their own - so he hadn’t done anything. What was the worst that a pig could do?

They took hostages, one of them was a leader of a pack out east. Well, that wasn’t good, now was it? Perhaps the dragon in him had grown too prideful at being the apex predator. A group was gathered, and Belial had joined them as a dark lady of Elysium (harper) and Vendrussel lead the charge.

He was one of the few Ford wolves there, as well as their own enemy, the Northfall; it had been their wolf, which had been once a Ford wolf, that had given birth - only to have her heart shattered when the boars did their thing.

The smell of canine blood took over, almost, followed by the screaming of the mother which, of course, felt like someone was bursting his eardrums. Was that enough to distract the pigs? Belial, like the other dragons, quickly found Vendrussel, and leapt in front of her & took a tusk right into the chest.

^^
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She prepared to face the fruits of being pierced, to shield the innocent ; relief flooded as more wolf would comes, even the enemies she so scorned, but the pursuit of more of Dragonford members to the war efforts. Through the scorning of the boars, many wolves faced the the wild evil that plagued the beach, many going after the king, the female one, though it seemed like the small child of them all was slowly running away — Vendrussel, was about to shout to Absinthe to chase after before her piercing ;

yet it never came.

The horror of realization that crossed her face ; the reborn dragon scorching across to not only shield the Priestess, but her in the process. The blood that sprung in the air that was not of the birth or other brawls, but instead of the then slouching member that collapsed to the floor, and the King who turned toward the boars who betrayed him. She looked at him, and looked at her fallen comrade, rushing to his side within a haste, "Belial? Belial!" but her words, would never be heard from.

Her head to his chest, the feeling of warmth but his heart was not drumming to the tides of war ; lifeless, there he lay, chest pierced and bloodied from protection he gave and he.. He died.

And she howled — a rage, a vengeance, to a war effort they were there to help ; but at the cost of saving an enemy, to a friend, to the loss of her own packmate. How much more would she have to howl? To firstly grabbing her packmates, to the trumpet of war, and finally, for the long cry of the fallen dragon who was before the floor.

And Vendrussel was enraged — ignoring those around her, even to those who rushed to her side such as @Absinthe and @Jun, she lunged toward the King of the Boars, who looked to be inching toward those they made a deal with — who in the midst of blinded anger, never heard the speech the rebelled boars made.

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Gro'Mash not really know what going on, not understand why Grimwald just stand there, Gro'Mash PUNISH later.  The confused swineking was snapped back into reality by the pearly white fangs of @vendrussl, lunging toward him.  Meeting the threat head on he met her lunge with an advance full of tusk, intent to plow her over or gore her in the same motion.

Continuing his rush from the back of the cave the multi ton swine charged forward through the narrow cave, intent to get to the light. His hooves and weight could almost be felt shaking the stone floor as the hoof-beats thundered out.  With tusks pointed forward Gro'mash would gore anything that stood in his way, or trample anything that was unlucky enough to fall under his hooves. 

"SHARPFANG DIE HERE! GRO'MASH WEAR YOU GUTS ON TUSK!"

It not matter if, pointhead, sharpfang, or sharppaw, Gro'mash stronger than all! Gro'Mash feast soon!  Hoping to feel flesh rend across his tusks, with all his fury, he would charge toward the light.
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Fascinating.

He had never been a third party to their own scuffles before. It was almost comical, watching the once-great King floundering about like a man lost at sea. There were so many wolves, an undulating mass of colorful pelts amid the cacophony of feral snarls.

Grimwald stood off to the side, a quiet spectator lounging against the far wall, when Gro'Mash let out a desperate war-cry and turned to charge through the crowd, hell-bent on exiting the hot confines of their cave. Smart. Probably one of the smarter moves he'd ever made.

The general leaned back a touch at his passing, feeling the wind rush past him as the great mass of his liege seemed to suck all the air out with him. He raised an eyebrow, casually turning his head to follow his path as a rush of wolves howled and screamed after their prey.

He grunted, and against the chaos still left within the cave, made to trot after the hunting party.

Absolutely fascinating.

In short order, he had caught up to the small crowd, seeing where the charge had taken them. Ah, well. Of course the bastard had managed to back himself up against a cliff. So much for smart decisions - he pursed his lips, moving slightly closer so he could get a better view of the scene unfolding before him.

If those wolves thought they had him here - they were mistaken.

He waited.

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Peaches was not let off. Instead, two full grown wolves chased after her, both massive in their own way and terrors. Her small, lil' legs meant nothing for when they cornered her to the cave wall, and she looked over to Grimwald with a pleading help with real tears, "Papa!" would the piglet scream, although he was barreling out of the cave already and heading straight to somewhere, leaving.. Peaches behind.

"Don't kill me!" would the small white pig oink and plead, cowering.

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Although angered ; she was not rash or foolish. It had been well learned of the consequences of that ; the year that came by of those who viewed her a monster, and each action, each word she said would be looked upon and scrutinized. She did well to avoid his attack once more, before he turned and again and ran full-force, ramming anyone within his direction. A snarl, upon her face, for a wolf who tried to protect her, who only wanted to be a guard to another — was slain by this beast.

As she ran she was not alone, the Priestess coming toward and fighting brilliantly so as they cornered this swine beside the cliff. His tusks dripping with the blood of her slain comrade, and a snarl rippled from her mouth. Vendrussel wanted nothing more then the charge recklessly, even if it meant throwing both of them off of the cliff — and yet she knew it would mean nothing, especially at the sacrifice of Belial. At the moment, her own life felt so small ; but held firm, as blue eyes gazed at the silver-tipped woman who charged toward the leg.

She followed, her fangs attempting to dip into the other one to bring him down. She bit hard, every intention to tear the muscle or even break the bone to make him stand still, as he would face their consequences of terrorizing the northern packs. She wanted to make sure to immobilize him alongside of Valeska, so just then, they could tear at his throat.

The dragon wouldn't let him run.

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Between he, a yearling of Duskguard, a young buck and now Kuhn, there was no telling how quickly they might fell the pink and black swine. Ragnar would not stop until she was dead.

“Ah, I figured you guys would be lost without me!” The northern King chuckles between bitings of boar meat. The littlest of the pigs being trapped between Harper and a wolf of the Isle, while the largest of them all trampled through any in his path to escape the cavern.

Ragnar remains focused to his single target, not taken note of Valeska and Vendrussel's attempt to fell the King on their own, nor one of the islanders who had already fallen.
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The boy was ready to fight, and fight he did. As everyone moved to attack different boars, he helped attack the female, jumping into the fray to help take her down. Sure, he was likely not needed, but he wanted to help and that's what he was doing. What he didn't expect them to fight back as harshly as they did, tusks slamming into him and cutting a decent sized gash into his shoulder. But, he refused to yell out or let anyone know that he was injured, not wanting the high fish bitch to say some shit about him not being useful. 

As the female fell, he would turn to the male, watching the two women attack him. He would position himself behind the large boar, aiming to help @Vendrussel and @Valeska pin the boar down, though he was smaller than the other two, he had put all of his training into this. He would let them kill the boar, though simply wanted to tear at his hips, his slightly sadistic nature peaking out from his normally quiet demeanor.

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Fighting alongside various wolves, the tiger swung over and over again, taking chunks of flesh from the swine with each swipe, staining the white sections of his paws red.  The sow's tusks where nothing to scoff at leaving a gashing his forearm somewhere in the adrenaline filled fight. 

Wolves did what they did best, wearing the opponent down, taking a chunk here and there, encircling their prey.  While the massive boars fight was one of the fiercest he had ever seen, eventually the swine's fight began to slow.  Somewhere in the frey, the tiger thought he was seeing things when the hooves of a deer flashed through the rhythm of battle.  

Seeing an opportunity with the slowing beast, one claw strike found deeper purchase.  The swine must have been distracted by the the rest of its attackers, and it failed to guard properly.  Taking this as an opportunity, he used his claw filled purchase on the flesh to quickly pull himself up onto the back of the massive swine.  

Using claws from all four limbs, riding the creatures back, the cat clamped down on the back of the beast's neck.  Sinking his fangs in as deep as he could muster.  All he could do was attempt to control the head of the pig, keeping the tusks under control and trying to expose its neck while the wolves attacking from below.  Adding his weight to the expiring prey, he held on as she kicked and bucked with fury, their combined efforts, eventually made her buckle at the knees.

Seeing as one more even larger swine rushed by, sending bodies every which way.  Kuhn, quickly hopped off of the current kill, knowing she was practically finished he left grizzly task of the finish to his comrades.  With ears perked he looked on to the next battle.
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It didn't seem to end.

She couldn't remember the last time she had hunted prey this stubborn, this massive, this completely unbothered. As Vendrussel tore chunks of flesh from his scarred hide, the boar only laughed all the louder, his merriment carrying in echoes down the chasm that lay beyond the cliff's edge.

An edge that suddenly grew dangerously close.

Hissing through her teeth, Valeska narrowly avoided the brunt of his great, swinging hooves, instead taking a hard clip to one of her hind legs as she leapt to get out of range. In any other circumstances she would have registered the pain and fallen, but all she could feel in the heat of the moment was the pounding of her heart and the rush of blood and adrenaline urging her ever forward. As long as it could still move, she had no time for injuries.
Her body was made of fire, and she wanted to light him up.

Gritting her teeth as she stumbled, feeling her leg give way as trembling muscles and tendons struggled to recover from the shock of impact, she scrambled again out from the way of bloodied tusks as they swept a gory path before her. She now stood at his front, snapping her jaws, feinting lunges toward his face at intervals, hoping to drive him back against the edge again. If he could just get close enough to fall, the plunge would surely kill him -

But he stood, confident and boastful and bloody, like a fucking rock.

She suddenly made a decision: she wanted that eye.

Bristling, she sprang into the air from an angle, hoping for purchase against his shoulder as she drove her fangs toward his glittering eye one more time.

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Vendrussel did not notice the slaughter that was behind. The ending of the female swine and the soon piglet that lured many to this cave. Although she could hear the sounds of roaring and howling within the distance ; none was paid to the mind except for the King before her so. Who slain not only her comrade but attempted to continue to take down more — backed to the cliff he stomped and thrusted as three cornered so. The boy of Northfall, clamping onto his back in a desperate attempt of a help or a distraction, and Valeska ; who charged to the boar. A fury was within her golden gaze, straight to the eye she went, and the boar thrashed angirly around in an attempt to either crush them or throw them off.

She jumped backwards, knowing quite well in this situation the wolf held a better defense to dodge and go. One upon him, another — and she too lunged straight at him. In any moment, as one for the eye and the other elsewhere, Vendrussel aimed to throat of it all. Flesh was taken, he laughed at them, and she wanted more of that to occur.

He would be the last supper for Belial.

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