Thinking (Braythe, OPEN)

[.:Fawn:.]

Lyrielle saw her life flash before her eyes; the first time she'd ever held a Claymore, the first time she'd ever won a fight against an opponent. The first time she'd decided to wear baggy clothes and act like a buck...the first time she ever got a crush on somebeast, or the first time she ever got to fight alongside her father...
It had been a short life, though uneventful at times, Lyrielle liked to think she had lived her life as honorably as she possibly could in the short time she'd been given. She had never discussed an early death with her parents, but she hoped they would at least bury her with some of her favorite books... And tell Cassie and Lulu how much she had enjoyed calling them friends... And she hoped they wouldn't forget to-

Dallas's eyes flushed a deeper pink as he shoved his blades into his belts. With a short run and a quick jump, Dallas lept on to Braythe's large back and locked his thin, but well muscled arms around Braythe's thick neck and tightened; the classic sleeper hold. If Dally could just get Braythe to pass out. Maybe, just maybe Corporal Nightfur would have a the time to run before the blood starting running with furvor...

The black hare's face awash with shock, she stumbled backwards, Braythe's roaring causing her ears to ring as her eyes locked on the brave hare with it's arms wrapped around the badger's enormous striped head, his eyes gleaming with bloodlust. Gasping in horror, Lyrielle tried to scramble away as Braythe staggered after her like some kind of zombie badger, roaring and bleeding and frothing, his sword arm forever raised in a motion to strike.

"H-hey! Come this way!"

Who? What? Whipping her head around so fast it hurt her neck, the black haremaid saw the startled face of Victiore Fawn beckoning her over near the bleachers, and Lyrielle scrambled towards the white mouse -- just in time too. Braythe, who had slowly begun to lose consciousness with every step he took, rocked back and forth on his massive footpaws, until finally, the Badger Lord slumped forward. Smashing the already cracked floor a second time, Braythe fell onto his face, cheek pressed to the cold stone, sword forgotten at his side, with Corporal Dallas Dwayne Delory Devereux still hanging on for the ride.

Lyrielle's entire body was shaking, and she stared from Braythe to Dallas to Victiore in something like shock, unable to even utter a word.

A Badger had nearly cleaved her in two. A BADGER. Stunned, Lyrielle dropped down onto her scut and placed her face in her upturned paws, trembling still. That had NOT been how she'd envisioned herself dying. That was certainly no blaze of glory -- that was a mistake in the training hall. What should've been a harmless attempt to stop a very HARMFUL fight had ended so horribly wrong. Stealing a glance to the unconscious Braythe, the haremaid's violet eyes blinked back tears.
Good heavens, they may've broken their Badger Lord's jaw!

Can anyone say demotion?

[Prankster101]

Note to bolly self: Ridin' bloodwrathbadger-back is not a jolly good idea...

Dallas clung on with all his might as Braythe roared, frothing foam and blood at the mouth. Still in his rage, Braythe tried to charge at Corporal Nightfur, with Dally clinging like a leach. Tightening his grip, Dally didn't notice that the haremaid had rushed out of the way or that their was another creature in the training hall. The bloodwrath was slowly taking over Dally's mind as his vision slowly faded to red. He had to knock this badger out!

Giving one more tightened squeeze, Dally felt Braythe slowly lose consciousness beneath his paws. Braythe swayed about for a few moments then came crashing down, face first. Dallas, not longer in control of himself, instinctively released his grip and tumbled to the ground with Braythe.

The force of Braythe hitting the ground tossed Dallas off with such momentum that he tumbled across the room and hit the wall with his back that the Corporal Nightfur had been standing by with a loud SMACK!

Collapsing on the floor, Dallas's blood covered eyes only stayed open long enough to see that his job was done before he, like Braythe, slipped away into unconsciousness, the bloodwrath quickly fading away....

((Grr..seems short, and undescriptive..Forget what I was saying about a 3.5! It's demoted down to 3! Anyways, hope this works.. HA! And on the wrong account! I'm doing well!))



_{Posted while still a member of this site.}

[Cross]

Vicky's paws flew to her mouth as Braythe crashed to the floor and the corporal was thrown to the wall. She felt the shock of the fall, small as she was. "Winter's Ice!" she exclaimed. She didn't know who to tend to first. Picking the corporal (only because she knew Braythe's pain threshold a little better), the tattooed mouse rushed over, falling to her knees by the bloody, unconscious hare.

As if on autopilot, her dainty paws checked him over, noting his various injuries. She gently opened his mouth, allowing the rest of the blood to pour from his jaw. The white fur on her paws and forearms was quickly turned crimson, but she took little notice. Wiping the red liquid from one paw, she gently opened one of his eyes. Okay, he'll wake up. That's a good thing . . . Exhaling a small sigh of relief, she was glad to find that this hare, Dallan his name was, or something like that, would be fine after a good recovery in the sick bay.

Oh, Roseleaf was going to love this . . .

Biting back a groan, the mousemaid stood, wiping her paws and moving over to Braythe. She passed by the dark-furred hare, who hadn't seemed to recover from the shock of the fight, just yet. Well, Vicky hadn't, either, but the well-being of Braythe and the corporal was a bigger concern than her own surprise.

"They, uh, they'll be fine," she assured the dark hare, offering the smallest of smiles. With a small twinge of unease, the mouse realized she couldn't really tell if this hare was male or female. The build was petite, suggesting a female, but the clothing suggested otherwise. Well, Vicky could find out later.

[.:Fawn:.]

The force of Braythe hitting the ground tossed Dallas off with such momentum that he tumbled across the room and hit the wall with his back that the Corporal Nightfur had been standing by with a loud SMACK!

The haremaid jumped, eyes widening as she watched Dallas quite literally crash into the wall right next. Sweet merciful heavens, WHY was this day going so badly for her? Lyrielle had returned to normal enough to chide herself for caring so much about her own personal safety when Dallas had quite literally saved her from being sliced and diced. Show a little heart, Lyra!
As though petrified Braythe might wake up at any moment, Lyrielle tiptoed over to where Dallas had crashed and Victiore was checking him over -- looking anxiously to the healer mouse, the haremaid's paws curled into sweaty little fists, still a bit shaken, but wanting to help in spite of it.

"They, uh, they'll be fine," she assured the dark hare, offering the smallest of smiles.

Lyrielle returned her smile, but it was a twitchy one, as if her words hadn't quite registured yet. "Is there anything I can do to help? Is Lord Braythe going to be okay?" Dallas didn't KILL HIM did he? If that was the case, they'd BOTH be booted off the mountain...or locked in prison for all eternity. One for murdering their badger lord, and the other for being stupid enough to cut him in the middle of a fight.
Oh WHY had she tried to intervene? Why couldn't she have just let those two have at each other? Lyrielle bit her lip. She tried to stop them, and they both ended up unconscious and bloody anyway.
"We should take him to the infirmary, right?" Though she meant Dallas, Lyrielle glanced to Braythe too. Yeah there was no way they were carrying him. It would take half her graduating class to pick that badger up, and even then a few muscles would be pulled in the process.

[Cross]

"Is there anything I can do to help? Is Lord Braythe going to be okay?"

Vicky knelt beside the big badger, going through the same motions she had with Dallas. Checking his eyes and various wounds. Oh, Lord Braythe . . . Sighing quietly, the little mouse stroked the bloody fur of his face. It was quickly turning white; must be the fall season. She looked up suddenly, having forgotten the still-conscious hare's presence.

"Oh, they, uh, y-yes, he's--he'll be fine," the mousemaid replied. How they were going to get him to the sick bay before he woke up was the real question . . .

"We should take him to the infirmary, right?"

Him? Oh, right! The hare. Corporal. Dallas, yes. Vicky nodded. It seemed she was quite scatterbrained today. It must be from her busy morning. Standing up, she went over to Dallas. "Would you . . . Could you, um, help me lift him, please?" Vicky asked the dark-furred hare, whose name continued to escape her. Kneeling beside Dallas, she looped one of his arms around her thin shoulders.