Finally "home"

[Alena Wulf]

London. Of all the cities in Europe with its vast history, varying architectural influences and bustling populace, London was the worst. With the infernal infestation of Bats, the city was one of the most depressing and foul Alena had ever stayed in. She knew that was part of the reason Raven had chosen the city as his capital centuries ago, and since then the conditions had only gotten worse. London stank; stank of garbage and the piss of the homeless; stank of the Undead. It was all the Werewolf Queen coul do to keep herself from physically cringing as she got closer to the heart of the city. Needless to say, this was not a place she enjoyed being. The whole city needed to be nuked, and with any luck the Vampyre population here would be killed out. Tonight would be the next best thing, though. Alena's daughter and one of her top Lycan Lords had been kidnapped by Dane. So, the Mother of Lycanthropy was going to be paying the current Vampyre King a visit to take back what was hers. Tonight, the deaths of many Vampyres would be on her paws. She'd slaughter the whole mansion if she had to, to get her Kin back.
Streaks of dark orange stretched across the sky as a light drizzle started up, casting a premature darkness throughout the city. As Alena approached the mansion with Szandor and Xhel in tow, she could see feint light coming from some of the windows. The mansion was already coming to life and the sun had not yet completed it's descension. There was something incredibly dark about the mansion. The Mother of Werewolves could physically feel the energy in the air, the product of something other-wordly. It was something she hadn't really noticed until two decades ago when her interactions with Raven became less frequant. But it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end and it excited her. It some ways it did remind her of her beloved Raven, all of the energy around her, the adrenaline coarsing through her. But tonight would be different. Tonight there would be blood. She owed Dane blood.
Nearing the mansion, Alena bid Xhel luck, reaching out to his mind softly, though the bloodlust teeming throughout her body could barely be contained. She was sure he'd have his own way of entering the mansion. Meanwhile, Alena would take the simple route, and use force, making her way through the Vampyre lair the old fashioned way: through the front door. Szandor had advised her against such an action, but subtleties were not something the Wolf Mother took particular care for these days. She was arrogant, and had the strength and energy to back up her convictions.
A quick mental probe of the area proved to be fruitful, she could sense both Pablo and Lucia within the mansion, and reached out to their minds, Wake Child, and be ready. I've come for you. She spoke intimately. She was talking just to Pablo and had come just for him. And she was talking just to Lucia, and had come just for her.
Without the slightest outward hint of what was to come, Alena's pale body shed its skin and grew. She blended into the night now, with fur as dark as pitch, ice blue eyes peering out toward the mansion. With a speed unrivaled, she lept toward the front door, tearing it off its hinges and howling long and low into the foyer. The Undead smell was overpowering and fueled her hatred; she was prepared to kill everyone in her way.

[Dane]

Waiting... waiting was rarely an issue for The Vampire King. He had almost an overabundance of patience; it was after all what allowed him to remain hidden in the shadows for many lifetimes before making his move for the figurative vampire crown. Yet despite his ability to endure the boredom that came with time; at this moment he did not find himself at ease. At the back of the mansion; sitting quite casually on a lone rocking chair in front of the backdoor Dane found himself tapping his foot. This was common behavior for any being; immortal or not; for Dane this was a beyond rare occurrence. He could not recall the last time he had done such a thing. Making a forced effort to keep his foot still resulted in his index and middle finger of the hand that his face rested against tapping an arrhythmical pattern against his temple.

Though he believed that if he had a functioning heart it would be racing what he felt was not fear. Anxiety was perhaps the best word he could use to describe the feeling. Tonight he would face the Lycan Queen. A being more powerful than himself; in this current age few of this existed. She was perhaps one of three. Their battle would not be like any he had experience before. A single mistake would most certainly result in his death. Alena was not his equal; though he hated to admit it she was his superior. To say other wise would be a lie and an underestimation of her abilities. Dane was never one to take his opponents lightly. It was the reason why Raven was dead, Viktor lived in exile, and why Dane held the title of King. Would his opponent respect his ability tonight? That was doubtful; it was the one advantage he would have.

His train of thought was interrupted by what felt like a minor tremor. His chair shook as did the entire foundation of his mansion as well as the nearby trees that for a moment all appeared to be on the verge of falling over, but this was no earthquake. Something very nearby had broken the sound barrier and the vampire king believed he knew what or rather whom. His answer came in the form of the sound of the mansion's front door being battered down and the continuous shaking of the building. I swore they would come through the back door. The vampire thought to himself as he stood up. The door would be down in a matter of split seconds; fortunately that was more than enough time for him. With a kick against the ground Dane was gone. The chair behind him exploded into a million tiny pieces as a cloud of dust, dirt, and grass followed in his wake.

As he rounded the corner to the front yard of the house Dane's eyes lit up. There she was The Lycan Queen in all her splendor standing almost a dozen feet tall with the front door to his house in her hairy paws. Lowering his shoulder he charged forth. Every step he took resulted in destruction behind him. He did not hold back, he moved with as much speed as he could muster. The patio split into two as rushed towards the Queen, countless tiny splinters were shot in every direction. Once within about teen feet he leaped forth crushing his shoulder into the lycans side.

[Szandor Colden]

Spring was approaching. No one could deny that. The snow that had blanketed Europe just weeks ago was melting, and slowly, ever so slowly, the sun was starting to show itself once more. The Human populace would sleep easier knowing that Days were getting longer. That the creatures who dwelt in the Night would be restricted to a few measly hours out of each day. As the rain picked up and the sun retreated behind the buildings, the smell of spring infected London. It smelled earthy, like fresh grass and morning dew. It smelled... almost hopeful. Yet ironic at the same time. With spring would come new life, new chances; or so they'd celebrated in centuries past. But this night, too, reeked of Death.
Never had it been said of Szandor to be a coward; but he could feel the omens. He'd follow his Mistress to the doors of Death itself. Many times had they rung its bell and escaped to tell the tale. But this night, just starting, felt dark and endless.
A warrior always went into battle with the mindset to defeat his foes. But also to accept death at the hands of a worthy opponent. Dane was a worthy opponent. And it was Dane that they sought this night. The Vampire King had kidnapped Mistress Alena's daughter, Lucia, whom he'd helped to raise. As well as Alena's fierce and loyal lieutenant, Pablo. This blow to the Werewolf race was the worst they'd seen in years; needless to say, Alena was not happy.
There had been a time, thousands of years ago, when Szandor had fought Alena's battles for her, whether they were against Vampires, hunters, or even other Werewolves. But that was long ago. She'd since found her strength and confidence; to the point where Alena had truly been calling the shots, instead of only being the face of Lycanthropy. There were not many Wolves, or Bats for that matter, remaining who remembered the Queen of Wolves as anything but a war leader. And perhaps his mistress preferred it that way. In any case, Szandor now fought at Alena's side. She had chosen not to heed his words about approaching the Vampire headquarters straight on, but he had to respect her wishes, and so followed as Alena charged the door, ripping it off its hinges.
Szandor could no longer feel the transformation to the Wolf. It was neither good nor bad; it simply was. As the hulking grey form, Szandor towered over Human and Vampire alike, but he paled in comparison to his Mistress. Her cry rang out into the city, setting off car alarms in the distance, and Szandor felt compelled to answer in kind. Lifting his head to the darkening sky, he howled his cry of battle and unity to his Alpha.
Holding up the rear, his heightened senses could pick up the light sound of the softest footsteps heading rapidly toward him. Alena stood, holding shards of what was the front door in her paws, and then there was a blur as something made contact with her. Szandor heard the Vampire coming, and moved to stand in front of his Mistress, but was stopped. Something small and sharp struck his chest painfully, making him even more acutely aware of his surroundings. From inside the mansion, like ants crawling out of their hill, a small horde of Vampires charged through the open door. So many poured out at once that the light from inside the foyer was blocked out. And every single one of them were headed straight for him: moved purposefully around Alena, straight to Szandor.
His objective was clear: Lucia and Pablo's safety; so he stepped forward to meet the Vampire horde head on. They hit him hard, attacking him from every angle. It was clear most of these Vampires were young, probably unblooded from actual combat with a Werewolf. But the sheer number of them attacking Szandor was slightly disarming. However, he pushed on, lashing and snapping with claw and tooth at each Vampire who put themselves within reach. Blood caked his muzzle as his teeth found the neck of one unlucky Vampire, who dropped like a sack of potatoes. He couldn't see where Alena had gotten to, the only thing he saw were the endless pale-faced Vampires.

[Xhel]

"Knives, check. Ammo, check. Explosives-" The hunter ran his hands down and across his armored body as his hair tussled in the wind. A slight smiled appeared on his lips as he felt the small metallic disc like objects strapped to his belt. This was his third and final check; the first before boarding the plane and the second right before jumping out. Preparation is important, but even more so is remaining aware that you're prepared; especially when facing creatures of myth and legend. One could act freely and without hesitation knowing they have a solution for every problem prevented to them. It allowed somebody like him; weak and slow in comparison to his opponents, capable of standing toe to toe with even some of their strongest.

He was surprisingly at ease as he descended upon the vampires. Nerves were never an issue for Xhel. In that regards he was nearly immune, but to anticipation he was not. He could recall the butterflies in his stomach as Alena and Szandor approached him and forced him to relive his old life. There was little to not love about the adrenaline that came with these moments. He never felt more alive than when he was fighting largely heartless creatures. Perhaps it was all his time spent in the temple meditating or maybe he was finally realizing the gravity of the situation. Pablo his sole relative in the hands of the new vampire king. An enemy he had little to no information on. A enemy that even Alena could tell him little of; despite the fact he was rumored to be at least a thousand years old. How did something powerful enough to defeat his cousin go so long without being noticed?

He glanced down as he quickly approached his destination. Normally a dimly lit and quite house deep in the forest; his landing zone, the vampire's mansion was alive with the sparks of gunfire and the sounds of mayhem. All the while the vampires seemed completely unaware of his approaching. Of course when fighting lycans there were few scenarios in which they would ever have to look up. The roof; where he hoped to land was currently occupied. Three vampires armed with rifles took aim at Szandor, firing at will. His 'comrade' swarmed by bats seemed to not notice or care, even when a single perfectly aimed bullet could put him down. The trees that appeared no bigger than ants quickly became the giants they truly are. As the roof of the mansion grew close he cut himself free from the chute. Dropping a few dozen feet up from the air the hunter landed with a crouch on top of the vampire. Quickly drawing his hand gun he blasted a bullet into the creature's heart. Of course his companions did not stand by idly. Instantly the lunged at the human. Moving quickly he dove away firing at one of his attackers. His aim was true as his bullet found its home deeply lodged in the vampire's brain. As Xhel hit the roof he rolled back up to his feet. His enemy was already upon him, swinging its arm with enough power to leave any human headless. The maneuver was almost laughable. Like any baby bat this one wished to end the fight with a single power blow instead of taking advantage of its strength. This much power was not required to down a human. In when smooth motion Xhel ducked and drew his silver combat knife. The vampire whiffed completely leaving his chest exposed. An agonizing cry followed shortly as the blade plunged deeply into the vampire's heart. As the blood suckers turned to dust Xhel stood proudly. Though they were only baby bats the rust was not as apparent as he thought it would be. The parachute collapsed ontop of him as he was consumed by thought, knocking him off his feet.

It took a few moments to cut himself free and once he did he glanced upon the 'battle field'. Szandor was swarmed by vampires, Alena was also in the heat of battle having been confronted by the vampire king. "So that's the vampire king." He murmured to himself. He didn't seem like much; skinnier and small then his predecessors, but appearances rarely matter. A smirked crossed his lips. The hunter was a far better aim than any of the vampires. He could easily get rid of Szandor, and just like that one of his problems would be good. Alena and Dane were highly distracted too. However he would have to hit both shots if firing upon them. A single miss meant certain death by one of their hands. He mused at the thought for a second before deciding against it. He was not here to kill them. This was a rescue mission. Reaching behind his back he pulled free one of the small metallic disk. After quickly hitting a few buttons he placed it down and took a few steps back. It quickly explode and left about a 6 foot wide hole its in place. With both of desert eagles drawn he descended into the hole.

[Lucia Drusa Severa]

An urgent pounding at the door woke Lucia early that evening. It was too early, she felt. Grogginess filled her eyelids and muscles. She could tell the sun was still in the sky, which meant that she had no business being up yet. "Go away," she commanded firmly.

The pounding persisted. The Vampire on the other side of the door mentioned something about Dane's orders... Lucia was too sleepy to fully hear or comprehend what was being said, "Go away!"

Rolling over to her other side, Lucia tried blocking out the Vampire and returning to sleep. Half an hour passed before she felt she could fall back asleep, but as soon as the sleepiness fully returned, she felt something familiar in the air: a subtle presence in the room. No, not quite in the room, but it was beside her, or within her. It was only the slightest feeling, like a soft tickling on her neck that crept up through her skull. It was a whisper without a body or voice. But it was there. Lucia knew for certain it was there, and she knew what it was. Then: Wake Child and be ready. I've come for you.

Her mother was here. Though the message was soft and personal, it hit the Hybrid like ice and had a sobering effect, waking her immediately. She bolted up right, looking toward the door as if her mother were standing right there. From somewhere outside, dozens of feet below her room, her mother's voice rang out in a loud howl. Though Lucia had grown up hearing the wolf's cry on a monthly basis, they always sounded sad to her. She couldn't understand the call, but imagined it was some sort of mourning ritual for the soon-to-be deceased. A second voice was added to her mother's, one the girl could discern as belonging to Szandor.

Dane was right. Lucia had harbored some doubt that her mother would actually come for her, herself. But here she was, and Szandor too. Dane was good.

All at once, her thoughts caught up to her: her mother was here for her and Pablo. No. She wouldn't let that happen. She would go down and face Alena. Lucia would fight her mother and defeat her, showing Dane how strong and capable she was.

Leaping out of bed, Lucia went for the door, reaching up to her neck to make sure the cell key was still there. The moment her hand touched the doorknob, a blast rang out above her, almost deafening the girl's sensitive ears. She ducked slightly, bringing her arms up part way to shield her head. Debris fell from the ceiling into the room. Turning back, Lucia looked horrified that something would defile her father's room in such a way. This wasn't her mother's style, nor Szandor's. She barely had time to come to that conclusion before a man came down through the hole in the ceiling, landing deftly on the floor in front of the bed, guns drawn.

Squaring off, Lucia clenched her fists, hesitating only because of the thought that this man might be with her mother, come for her and Pablo. She knew Dane wished to let Pablo go. And despite the girl's dismay at this, she did plan to allow it to happen. Pausing a moment, she could tell this man was ready for combat, he seemed like he'd seen his fair share of it in the past, and he smelled... Human. That was strange. Assuming this man was indeed here with Alena and Szandor, there were a couple of things Lucia could do. She could attack this man, and likely kill him, which would leave Pablo in his cell and probably anger Dane. Or, she could try to talk to this man, see his intentions, and allow him to leave with Pablo. Personally, she wanted the fight.

Resolving herself and keeping her body light on her feet, Lucia spoke, "Who in Satan's name are you?" There was a bite to her words.

[Pablo]

Wake Child and be ready. I've come for you.


The young lycan warrior's eyes shot open as a voice quietly spoke in his head. Immediately he felt a comforting warmth overcome him as his lips slowly formed a smile. Normally he was not fond of mental intrusions, normally he would not allow it to happen, but these were not normal circumstances, and it was no average lycan reaching out to him. The voice belonged to the Pack Mother, Alena. Her mental touch was one that Pablo would never forget. For a moment he felt an overwhelming amount of emotion. His Queen had personally ventured deep into the enemy territory to save him, and he supposed Lucia as well. Though something told him Lucia would need protection from her mother after the Queen learns of her daughter's betrayal. None the less it was a honor to be rescued from his Queen. She had already given him much; a family, and now she was providing him with a second chance at life. It was nearly enough to bring tears to his eyes.

And then Alena roared; her war cry echoing through the mansion and sending a jolt up Pablo's spine. He felt a wave of adrenaline and strength surge through him. While her howl may have brought fear to his enemies it excited the young lycan, and the standing hairs across his body were proof of that. Soon Alena would free him and together they would make Dane pay for everything he had done to him. The thought of vengeance was sweet and it only seemed to provide him with more fuel. His eyes wondered over to his bound wrist and ankles. They were in constant biting pain from the silver and though they weakened him greatly, he almost felt capable of breaking free from his restraints. It was a foolish thought, yet still he tried to break free, throwing his arms forward with all his strength. He recoiled backwards once again hitting his head, this time against the wall. Dazed he mumbled incoherent words to himself. He had another way to free himself.

With a makeshift lockpick in hand he began to tinker with the locks around his ankles. As soon as his the first lock clicked opened a nearly deafening explosion from the bedroom shook the entire mansion. Caught off guard his fingers snapped the pick into two as he covered his ears. It was to not avail as his ears were already ringing. Fortunately he had other senses he could rely on. Sniffing the air he smelled an all too familiar presence. The scent was not too different from his own. Pablo gulped, that could only mean one thing. Xhel was here, in the same room as Lucia. She would kill him, he thought, or he she. Either way it did not bode well. If Xhel were to fall Pablo would no doubt seek vengeance, even if it meant harming the Pack Mother's own flesh and blood... and if Xhel were to kill Lucia.... He could only imagine the atrocities Alena would bring upon his cousin.

[Alena Wulf]

The wind was pushed from her lungs as a strong force plowed into her stomach. The speed of the hit was what took her by surprise. The Mother of Lycanthropy, was thrown off her paws, pushed sideways across the porch. Never before had Alena seen this Vampyre King in action, and it excited her. As the air came back to her, she growled low in her throat. Dane had cinched her right arm to her side, but her left arm was free. Shards of the front door were still held fast in her grip, and Alena thrust a pointed chunk of wood in her right claw up to Dane's stomach, while stabbing down at his back with wood in her left claw. If nothing else, she figured, it would make Dane move and allow her to get back up on her feet. Though the Vampyre was light, the act of standing up would be easier without having her enemy clawing at her body the whole time.
Alena wasn't sure what she'd expected tonight, where she imagined facing Dane, but it made sense for the King to meet her at the front door. She wasn't just any Werewolf, after all, she was the fucking Queen of Werewolves.
Adrenaline rose within her, coarsing through her body eagerly. Dark desires came up with the adrenaline. How this King had hurt her, he could only guess. How Alena would hurt him, he would know soon enough. She wanted to drag his entrails all over the mansion in full view of all the Baby Bats. When he finally turned to dust, she'd keep his ashes in the Lycan Den, for all her Pups to see. She'd cripple the Vampyre race so drastically that any new 'king' would be too terrified to take the throne publically. Any Vampyre gutsy enough to show its face Anywhere would be humiliated and exterminated.
Her heart beat faster, and if one knew to look for it, they would see what would equate to a wicked grin on Alena's muzzle. This felt so new, so fresh and invigorating. Since Raven's murder, the Wolf Mother had hit a depression; hunting had lost its appeal. Even torturing Vampyres no longer had its thrill. She'd go through the motions: tearing people limb from limb, culling Vampyres where ever she found them, and providing direction for the younger Pups. Yet none of it felt the same. Something deep within her had gone missing when Raven died, something important. Suddenly, all the hurt, the years of fighting and stabbing each other in the back (sometimes literally), it was all for naught. The centuries of war and pain fell hard on her shoulders. How could she bare all that? What was she supposed to do now that he was gone? This had been her life for over a thousand years, and how many had been lost? So many...
Now. Now, though, she'd been awaken from her depression, and her thirst for vengeance had been sparked again. Dane had reinvigorated Alena's passion for the fight once more, and that would be his downfall. Using her strong legs, she pushed herself upright, following through to tear at Dane's neck with her sharp teeth.

[Dane]

Inwardly Dane scowled. He was not pleased with the effectiveness of his attack. Yes he had successfully knocked the mother of lycanthropy clean off her feet; an honor that surely only a few vampires could ever claim, but by no means did she seem to be in pain, and when it was all said and done all he wanted was for Alena feeling as much agony as possibly. Her invasion of Italy was a great insult to his pride. One would imagine she might have respect for her lover's successor. Alas that was not the case. She thought she could take his city without consequences. A den full of dead wolves was proof otherwise. Did she not thing coming to his home would have no consequence?

"What brings you to my humble adobe." The Vampire King smirked as he broke away from assault, lightly jumping back and narrowly avoiding the left over shards of his front door. The vampire acknowledged that Alena was far quicker than advertised as she stood back onto her feet. "Really though, I am honored. I am told that these days the Pack Mother rarely leaves her den." That is at least what his spies told him, and as of yet they had not led him astray. He stood back still grinning. Cautiously staring down Alena eye to eye waiting for her attack. He swore, the millisecond before she lunged forth at him he saw a glint in her eyes, something had changed. Perhaps he had strung a chord, there was anger in he eyes, or was it pain? He stood his ground until the last second. Dashing away straight into the walls of his mansion as Alena's jaws snapped at thin air.

He reappeared from the newly mint hole in the wall with a long silver sword in his hand. Dane believed it once belonged to Raven, but it was truly hard to say. He could not fight the lycan weaponless it would lead to certain death. He stood silent. It was clear he could not allow Alena to dictate the fight, but charging her head forward seemed like madness. "I made him scream." Dane said bluntly while twirling the weapon. He truly did not know how to approach the battle. Most lycans would have found his fist deeply lodged into their chest after his opening attack. To be honest, he expected to have Lucia on her side for this battle. None the less he charged forward, with sword raised above his head he swung forward as he landed within a couple feet of his enemy. He would have to rely on his sheer speed, ever move had to be calculated to perfection. He would not relent, ever swing of his blade was followed by another. After ever couple strikes he shifted the point of his attack, attempting to quickly move to her sides and catch her off balance. He would not relent. For the first time in many years he fought simply for survival.

[Alena Wulf]

He was fast, incredibly so. Maybe even faster than Raven. It was more annoying than anything, though, like a fly buzzing around her face. Even flies, however, were caught and killed after awhile.
Dane, Dane, her words came through with a subtle condescending hint. We both know the boy told you nothing. Alena had every confidence in her lieutenant, Pablo.
As Dane disappeared into the mansion, the Mother of Lycanthropy took the opportunity to advance further into Vampyre territory. She recognized the sword Dane brought out immediately; another insult added to the list of offenses this King had given to the Werewolf Queen. Another nail in his coffin. The sword was of course silver, Raven had always preferred the precious metal, especially after the War began. Strange, though, how Dane was wielding the weapon. The Vampyre was clearly faster than Alena, held her great weakness in his hands, yet he swung rashly at her. Cuts, even those made by a silver weapon, do not kill people. If she were a Pup, still wet behind the ears, maybe a cut in an opportune place would mean the end, but not for the Queen of Lycanthropy. Hack'n'slash was just fine for causing pain, but stabbing was the way forward if Dane wanted her dead. Would he risk opening himself up for a jab, though?
All that came calmly into Alena's awareness in a fraction of a second. Amazing how clear her head was in conflict, it had always gotten her high. If causing her pain was Dane's goal, she could respect that. She often sought merely to cause pain to those who annoyed her.
Taking each swing in stride, Alena moved out of the way of some of his strikes, blocking others with her large forearms. The silver burned her arms, but caused only cuts and mild irritation. Her hide provided excellent armor, and her age took much of the heat off items cut with silver. Dane would have to do better than that to harm the Wolf Mother.
She would give him credit, though: his attacks were relentless, tireless. There was no break in between them, no wind up beyond his first attack. Just the sting, sting, sting, of the blade cutting through air, and occasionally, through tough skin. Eventually, she caught on. There almost seemed to be a pattern here, a method to the madness. One swing, two swings, then a change in direction; Dane would pick a new area to attack, trying to cover her whole body. Then, one strike, two strikes, three strikes, another area... All of these attack occurring without pause, in such quick succession. Yet, for Alena, time seemed to slow down as her adrenaline kicked up. Every move was clear and concise and there - as Dane shifted targets on her again, she found an opening. With a sword, the Vampyre King's reach was long. As the Werewolf, Alena's reach was just as long. Shifting her body as Dane attacked, Alena swung with as much power as she could center at the Vampyre's side with claws as long and sharp as daggers. The Queen of Lycans expected to follow through with the motion of the attack, such was the risk when using so much of her strength. But it would be worth it to land this attack on her enemy.
On the other hand, if Dane managed to slip away unscathed, the Werewolf Queen would still have enough energy to bounce back into the game. One of the many perks of being a Lycan, Alena found, was the limitless energy granted to her.
Behind her, Szandor fought recklessly on, trying to push through the sea of Baby Bats assaulting him.

[Dane]

Dane smirked as Alena spoke to him mentally. Most vampires would find it alarming. His species did not possess that ability and were accustomed to such intimate methods of communication. He though had a life far more interesting and lasting than most bloodsuckers. She was not the first creature to speak into his mind. He expected and to an extent hoped that she would not be the last. "Of course; the boy did not say a thing, at least nothing of importance, but it was not from a lack of effort. There was screaming though, much of it. His loyalty has been the cause of much pain to him, yet it did not whither." He continued to speak throughout his attacks. Though it was evident to him he had at some point struck a chord in the malicious Lycan Queen he was looking to strike at least a couple more. He could not win this fight, that is not unless his opponent made a mistake. He believed that would not happen until her rage got the best of her. "I wonder, how does one instill such loyalty in their subjects?"

"He was not the only one of my guest to receive a private session with yours truly." He said dashing forward for another attack. Perhaps there was too much order in his assault, perhaps his opponent had made a lucky guess. "Your daughter did more than her fair share of screaming." It mattered not, one way or the other she had shifted her body in the right direction for a should be lethal counter attack. Luckily he was just as agile as he was fast. Slamming his feet into the ground he slid forward while spraying dirt and grass into the lycan's face. "Though she seemed to be enjoying herself far more than your slave." As she swung her claw he jumped narrowly avoiding certain death and then jumped once again, this time using the lycan's head as a launching pad. He found himself in mid-air. High among the trees, perhaps not the best position to be in considering there was a very angry wolf waiting for him to land, which he would eventually. With his free hand he reached behind his back and grabbed an 8-shot revolver tightly tucked behind his pants. With it he would cover his fall. Though lacking in shots, his bullets were silver laced and the gun itself was more than powerful enough to get the job done.