Why Tear the Banner?

As the storm swallowed the last bits of his foes, he watched their faces disappear into the white abyss.  Remembering their faces, one by one he a made wicked note to carefully and methodically disassemble every one of them.  His eyes lingered last on @Reiko, treacherous; a mouth full of honey, a putrid soul full of the vile will to power.  Giving special detail on how he would treat her once she was clamped in his jaws, his imagination was only pulled away by the blizzard covering her image with the frigid white sleet.   

A moment later and he turned to flee with @Valmúa, already staggering.  The adrenaline kept him moving for awhile, at least until they broke into the blowing sleet of the open tundra.  Tremoring, his hips fell to the tundra floor, breathing heavily it was all hitting at once; his eyes wide.  Holding himself up on his front legs, he knew he could not stop here.
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 As she ran, Valmúa could feel heat running down her neck and hip. She felt her ears hot with fury. She felt demand and anguish and terror and horror all in what felt like a small and crumpled body. She could feel weight as she ran. What adrenaline had been fueling her began to fade the moment that they were out of view. Snow flew about in what seemed like every direction. Nothing felt sanctified. Nothing was safe.
 As snow began to pile onto her fur in huge flakes, Valmúa found that she could no longer hear the hunting party that had ambushed them. This did nothing other than increase her nervousness. Kuhn at once fell at his backside to the ground, and the she-wolf leaped to help him back up.
 “We must leave,” she half-demanded, half hissed. With all of her strength, she pressed up to his side and pushed herself slightly beneath him to lift him back up. They could not stay here. When the storm died, these monsters would be back.
 Fury and emergency thoughts flew through her mind like gusts of the sharp wind through her fur. They needed to get to safety, and she knew that there were enough of them to kill both of them should they pursue after the snow had stopped.
 “Northfall.” But it was too far. “We will stop between.” They would have to. They were both in bad shape, with the prince far worse than she. There was no salvaging the skin on her hip and leg, which had been torn terribly. It hurt, and was the opposite side that the ice shards had hit her during the Olive rescue.
 @Ragnar had offered his home to the both of them. They needed it badly now.

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It was uncommon to feel the cold this way, today it seemed to have an extra ache, chilling the cat to the bone. He hadn't had a moment to take inventory of his wounds, and for his own state of mind he figured that it was better he didn't, he was painfully aware that they where numerous, burning in the cold.

Trying to rest here, his princessa helped lift his back legs back into position. She would not let him stop here, he wasn't sure if he would have gotten back up on his own. There was something so tender about her touch, contrasting from the battle. Tremoring, his hind legs found purchase, taking another step. Looking at his princessa, he could see her own wounds now. He could see his own blood just deposited on her. That deep gash on her hind mocked him.

The wolves of Shiroshika where sick, what had they done to deserve this? If he died here than he couldn't put an end to @Reiko 's filthy bloodline, he couldn't feel the crack of @Ira 's spine. Bubbling up from his very core, anger and rage returned. Gritting his teeth, he followed Valmua, hitching strides full of rage.

One day, he would taste royal blood.
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 Movement caused her wounds to continue to open and bleed. The cruel, late winter storm made her wet, bloody fur freeze to itself. The journey to Northfall was far enough that it would challenge them both. Valmúa did not know if there were pursuers after them. She moved with the assumption that Reiko and Ira had sent any that were left uninjured forward.
 Anger bubbled in her chest, even as the pain sent terrible shockwaves through her. She walked only slightly ahead of Kuhn so that she could assist him if needed. Occasionally, she would glance his way and the rage would create a sharpness in her gaze — to see him in such a state infuriated her. They had tried to reach an agreement with those terrible beasts. The red woman had even put in extra effort to speak to Ira as an equal.
 But like Kuhn, her faith in them was left in ruin. She wanted nothing more than to destroy them all. She wanted every last one of them, and all of their children, dead.
 When the storm began to die back, the pair came to a woodland somewhere between the Everfrost and Northfall, close to the borders of Frostchant. At last, Valmúa stopped, digging into the fresh snow a decent-sized pit to keep them warm. She lay down in it, curling into a ball, licking silently at the wound on her hip.
 Her once cream-coloured neck was so stained with blood, it was difficult to make out any of its original, clean colour. She said nothing, watching Kuhn closely, remembering the sound that Orlaith's body had made when it hit the ground.

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Rage got him here fueling his adrenaline, taking every painful limping step.  The pain came and went in flashes, but worse still where the thoughts. Why had this happened? He never intended to hurt anyone, and yet he was betrayed and he would be forced to play the role of devil. 

Watching the fire wolf dig he stood silently with his thoughts, not bothering to clear the snow from his face or shake out his coat.  Throbbing, Kuhn's thoughts drifted to his cheek, throbbing.  A gash left by someone he once considered his friend: @Izumi.  Dabbing the wound with the back of his wrist, he stared at the crimson stain, half frozen.  

Waiting until she had set herself down, Kuhn limped over to join her.  First straddling himself over her, he curled his large tattered frame around her, closing his eyes.  All he could do was hold her close, pressing his bloody muzzle into her, wrapping her with his tail. Her warmth was all he had now.  

As he began to relax the throbbing of various wounds began to set in, his mind at once began to almost go numb. His large paws held her tight, his chest tremoring with every breath, almost as if he was holding back the desire to sob.  Though, it wasn't clear to him why.
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 As he stood over her, Valmúa found herself lost in his ragged fur, melting into the warmth even as the rage in her burned. She did not know why they had all turned against them. It had been weeks since Valmúa had wandered near Tsukiishi, and thus weeks since she had bothered to harass them. Such annoyances were hardly worth a life, so the red woman had to assume that this was not what had sparked their hatred.
 She remembered that @Sachiko had left the walrus carcass quickly after he had been felled. At the time, she had thought nothing of it. Now, she began to realize that the kin of Reiko had, in fact, told the Shiroshikans their location. They knew that they would return to the Everfrost. They knew that they would be wounded, tired, and perhaps unable to fend off any attack.
 Valmúa decided that she would die first.
 As her mind spun, it was impossible to keep herself in this angered state as the scent of Kuhn's bloodied fur wrapped about her. She closed her eyes for a moment, turning toward his face to lick at the gashes and cuts. He buried his face in her fur.
 They would rest here until he had the energy to keep on. She had been so distracted by Ira, that she had been unable to keep them from him. She knew that he must have fought valiantly; Orlaith was no pushover, yet he had thrown her aside like a ragdoll. Many had been injured when they ran, though she didn't bother to take stock of how many.
 Tenderly, she began to lick the blood and dirt and filth from his dense fur. His injuries were graver than her own, and she was not a healer. She hoped, prayed even, that Northfall would save him.
 “Sachiko must have warned them of our timing. She was at the girl's rescue.” She said softly aloud, cleaning after she spoke around his neck.

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He too breathed her in, taking in the scent of his princessa mixed with blood. Comforting him, he kept his muzzle buried in her, breathing softly into her pelt.

Not protesting, as she turned to groom him, he exposed himself to her rolling somewhat on his side, exposing his vulnerable chest and underside, which had been torn pierced in various places. As she groomed his wounds he half rumbled with pleasure and growled in pain.

As she made her way around his neck, he exposed it to her, listening to what she had to say. She was right, one of Reiko's spawn had left to tell. Anger flooded thought him as he meekly bared his teeth, with his eyes still closed. There was nothing they could do about it now.

With his eyes closed resting his head in the snow, he could remember flashes of the battle. Valmua had not left him, she fought at his side. Even now she was here. "Val..." , he strained waiting until he had her attention. "Thank you ..."
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 In quiet anguish, she cleaned dirt and filth delicately from each metallic tear through his fur. He moved such that the fire prinsessa was able to reach the places where he could not without straining. Upon him was the saliva and blood of Shiroshikans and Vanderfell bastards alike. With each gentle and healing lick, so too did Valmúa memorize the flavours of the ones she would seek to kill. Her mind tired as it turned and spun, wavering between adoration and hatred.
 As he thanked her, she stopped, placing her head over one of his great paws, tucking her face so close to him that it was as if they were one animal, injured and seeking refuge within the snow.
 “Thank me when you are safe,” she answered in a cooing, but hard voice. “— and they are dead,” she added, heaving a great sigh as she quickly mapped out their road to Northfall.
 As the snow quieted the nightmare, she began to grow sleepy, tucked beneath him.
Bleeding, yet calm.

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