on a bed of needles

[Kana]

It's worth the pain, always take the blame...

Curse this place... curse it all. Needle's growled rumbled through the empty place. It was devoid of life at first glance, but a few hares and birds were around. A lizard was sunning on the rocks and a quill covered creature walked on through the blazing heat of mid-day. The former fighting dog's breath came in deep huffs as her body demanded more oxygen to supply the energy needed to keep her muscles going. Every muscle in her body screamed out with every step, but she knew the feeling well. The leather attached to her body in multiple places seemed to pull in heat and burn her skin, again she was used to it. She was also used to the weight of both a thick pelt and the many patches of massive needles attached to the leather that was in turn attached to her. Needle finally sighed and stopped in the shadows of a large boulder. The sound of water and bugs made her ears twitch. An oasis amoung the barren?

The gut wrenching smell of death clung to the place. She knew even 40 days and 40 nights of rain wouldn't wash away the smell, though she was also sure this place would never get that much rain in a century. Finally her weary paws met the shadows of a thinly filled forest, the trees few and the undergrowth fewer. The massive Leonberger followed a small trickle of water under she found a miniscule creek. Needle lapped up some of the water, letting out a groan when she noticed how warm it was.

"Disgusting... the taste of rot. Like I haven't had enough of that in my life."

With a gruff clearing of her throat she moved on, scenting the faint whisps of dog. It was not until then that she noticed this barren world was a claimed one, recently but it was indeed. Needle's fur bristled at the itching feeling of eyes on her. Maybe it was paranoia, but like the former fighting dog she was she'd stick around and face it. Only three dogs had beaten her before, one she let win because her father would have been ashamed to have his pack led by his daughter. No he'd always wanted a son and when he got one... No. That was in the past. No more thoughts of that, Needles had more things to thick about. Like the pair of eyes she KNEW were on her.

[First. Post. What. Now?! >3 You all just got owned on your own land *snap snap snap!*]

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...I'm walking on pins and needles.

[Sawyer]

Heat. The unnaturally hard earth that made up the majority of the territory was bearable, at least when you've nearly the full excent of your life sleeping on concrete. Still, heat was a problem. The prison confinement of their past may have been a bloody hell, but at least it was for the most part a cold hell. Small clouds of dust erupted behind their paws as they continued their sweep of the area in spite of the heat.

Each step went forward thoughtfully, forelegs especially raised with each motion and silver talons retracted as far as they would go, for if he didn't his metal 'paws' would surely scrape across the rocks and give away his postition. It was already difficult enough to quiet his breathing, the black iron of his mask absorbed the sun's UVs like a sponge, trapping heat between his mask and maw directly on top of his nasal cavity. Every few seconds, he exhaled a breath that out sounding congested, like a course cough. It was silent enough so far, though if it progressed he knew he would need to stop and send Giselle ahead without him.

Features relaxed, she faced forward unwaveringly, though her mahogany gaze constantly shifted. Perhaps it was all a mask, a way of concealing her intentions, her thoughts and feelings, or something deeper. Was it an effort to prevent her opponents from guessing her next move? It's impossible to tell as only she knows, and that's what Giselle prefers.

Honestly, she found patrol dull, given how new they were to the area, it wasn't like a full scale invasion was being plotted by another pack. Twitches her nose slightly, she could smell the decay in the air. Who the hell would want to take over this place. Glancing over at Tigre, his chest visibly heaving as he struggled to remain composed in the heat, she couldn't help but wonder why he had picked this territory in the first place. The blood-stained walls of the canyon, dying plant matter and carcass' of prey animals were no improvement from the stench of the walls and floors of the pit they left behind.

However, it was faint enough to not be able to conceal the scent of other dogs. The fresh odor of a traveller. An intruder. Both canines stopped in their tracks, shifting their sight to meet each other's gaze, silently confirming they each knew the reason for the pause. Nodding at the same time, they went into action, Giselle darting into the sparse forest while Tigre leapt at a nearby tree, sinking his claws into the dry trunk and heaving himself into the canopy.

Though the area was deprived of a thick set of cover, it wasn't void of it, for which Giselle was thankful. Hugging her body close to the ground, she took long, quick strides that carried her effortlessly over the landscape. True to her blood-lines, she kept a sharp eye in her surroundings, searching for the slightest twitch of movement ahead of her. Finally, the scent became strong and she slowed, crouching low and craning her neck in a way that looked uncomfortable, making the horns on her helmet almost parallel with her body so they didn't stand above the shrubs she hid behind.

Meanwhile, Tigre balanced on the branches above. Unlike, Giselle, he did not race to the clearing, taking his time to move between trees without disturbing the pale green and brown leaves that clung to them with frail stems. At last, he could see the break in the forest ahead, Giselle's once blurred form frozen in place like a statue, waiting in position.

Lowering himself on the branch, he gazed down at the intruder, and seeing the figure before him, he wished he could say it was the strangest sight he'd witnessed. Yet, in the class of fighting he and Giselle were raised in since birth, you got to see alot of bizarre things. The dog was a large female, her long, thick body hair increasing the appearance of her size. The part out of the ordinary were the quils protuding from leather strapped to her back, no doubt sharp and dangerous. Should the encounter lead to an altercation, the needles may prove to be a complication.

Seeing Giselle had appproached upwind like a true strategist, holding pose that would be difficult to catch sight of her, he was content that she was out of immediate danger. Just the same, he felt at ease high in the trees, and showed it by lowering himself onto the thick branch, observing the stranger in a cat-like fashion. Finally he spoke to the tresspasser, his voice deep and scratchy like that of a smoker, "Afternoon." The quiet greeting was more of an attention getter that just barely came off as polite. "What business has caused you to cross into Blood Justice lands?" A slight smirk curved beneath his mask, sunlight glinting of its silver fangs, and a trace of subtle eagerness was visible in his sanguine iris'. There was a promise of action finally coming to his little world standing before him. The thought excited him and he could help but think, Bring it on.

[Gomez]

<sub>This day had been better than the usual. Only thing that wasn't the greatest was that oh-so-lovely stench that tainted the air. Everything seemed to be like a desert, but with trees. It was so humid and insane, though if he wanted this chance to be in this pack, he might as well start getting used to it. Scare water, dead creatures, no permanent cover to last throughout today. Surely this land would be perfect for those who needed or desired a challenge. He was definitely one of those, and now, he decided, he needed to take this for granted to make himself even more stronger.

So far, the pack seemed to just get aquainted, not much conversation, which was appropriate. So far, he was just doing his own thing. Looking around at the packland, maybe even scout out some areas. His eyesight was terrible, so he knew he wouldn't be cut out for that duty if the leaders granted it to him. Now was one of those days where he could actually see better than most other days. He could see base colors, the browns weren't gray, the blue of the sky was pronounced. The only problem was that everything seemed to get blurry at moments.

After licking his paws, burrowing the dirt that became caked to the imprints of his paws from their bleeding, he lifted his head up. He was resting against a large shrub, which covered most of his body from the sight of one of the angles. His one open eye that hadn't been damaged from scars moved around to the right, his ear flickering to the same direction. He could hear two dogs moving, though it was very faint, as he knew they were trying to hide while they moved. From the scent he picked up, it was Giselle and Tigre. They were the supremes in the pack so far, maybe in the future. For now it would stay that way, as his body didn't need the stress of such troubles as trying to take over.

After a moment, when the padding had passed, he rose and flexed the muscles in his shoulders, relaxing and stretching them before he moved. Then the strode out from his small hiding place, and headed north, soon finding the small imprints of prints in the dirt. As he moved, and the sun beat down on his black coat, his tongue lolled out, letting him breathe correctly. Atleast he was a short haired breed. If his hair was inches longer, he'd probably be dying by this point. He strode down the path that the prints had lead him. As far as sneaking, he wasn't planning his trip like so. He was just following the leader's scent like a normal subordinate would.

Soon he found another dog. Due to his shortmindedness, he didn't think to look up in the trees to find more. He stayed far away from the stranger dog, to where he could still catch sight of the stranger. Moving out to where he would be sitting behind a large tree's trunk, he sat on his haunches, and stretched out his forelegs. Trying to keep silent, he wondered if anyone else knew of his presence, as he was quiet, but wasn't smart when it came to hiding.</sub>

[Kana]

It's worth the pain, always take the blame...

Three against one.

Giselle. Foolish being may not have noticed, but there was a slight enough breeze to cary scents on. Maybe she thought the smell of rot and blood would cloak her scent, but either way it was wrong. Needle had lived in the scent for far to long to not be able to distinguish between the scent of the living and the dead. The massive Leonberger knew good and well the dog laid in wait there.

Sabbath. Great. Hiding place. Needle watched the doberman slink through the sparse underbrush and sit infront of a tree trunk. It was obvious he didn't really care if anyone did see him. More curious if anyone did. She was barely listening to the words above as she examined the cat-like body of the doberman. She'd fought many and had found their acuracy humbling. Never once had she "quilled" a doberman.

Tigre. The most obvious of the bunch. He was the first to speak and above her in the trees. Being the first to take charge and being higher than the rest she assumed he was the leader of this land. Needle didn't bother to raise her head and look at him to see his breed or face. She knew two things: He was male. He had a mask of some sort. His words seemed to echo, the sound hitting the metal on his muzzle and bouncing back towards his face slightly. Time to address the group.

"Blood Justice. The irony. There is no justice in the spilling of blood and I should know that well for my many years in the circuit of fighting dogs. There should be no worries for I am not here to invade, merely to inspect. My name is Needle for obvious reasons."

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She lowered her head once more to lap up water from the trickle of water passing below her paws. With an eerie calm she swayed and the sound of needle hitting needle resembled chimes. The hulking behemoth would wait silently like such until the others either spoke or revealed themselves. She refused to talk to them further if they were going to be so rude to a visitor.


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...I'm walking on pins and needles.

[Sawyer]

A subtle shift in the wind was an unexpected setback, luckily the trespasser made it clear her intentions were more curious then hostile, at least for now. Giselle scent even reached Tigre up in the safety of the branches, and he signaled her to break stance, there was no need to follow the proceedings of an ambush when cover was blown. Rising from his place in the trees, he climbed, or more accurately ran down its trunk, digging the claws of his gloves into the bark to avoid falling.

Once on the ground he approached Needle, of which he thought a proper name given her appearance. The stranger intrigued him. So another one escaped the pit of hell. The dogs quilled armor reflected that of those who took part in his class of fighting rings, however, he was sure they'd never met before. he openly reflected this with a quiet statement, "Fighting dog huh, I don't believe I've seen you in my circuit." The dog claimed to not want to invade, but that didn't mean he was going to put blind faith in the hands of any random stray, Tigre kept his distance. "My apologies, Needle, I only prefer to find out who's wandering in my territory. Forgive me for forgetting my manners, but why waste pleasantries on those who may not deserve them. My name is Tigre."

Damn it. Giselle thoughts cursed the breeze as she could feel it suddenly change to blow across her back. Even before Tigre nodded to her, she began to rise from her stance. Leaping over the thorny shrub she had been using for cover, she landed gracefully on the other side and immediately dropped to a stiff sit. Eye's narrowed slightly, her otherwise unreadable face stared at the sky distantly. Now that there were no signs of impending conflict, she had lost virtually all interest in the conversation aside from introducing herself in monotone, "Giselle." The only attention she gave it was her hearing.

Tigre had heard Needle's comment regarding his pack's name and with a light chuckle quietly remarked, "Now, that all depends on who's blood you're spilling. Don't attempt to make me the bad guy here, Miss, I no longer shed blood for meaningless purposes and i don't kill without reasonable excuse to." Pausing for a moment, he dragged his claws across the hard ground thoughtfully, still managing to leave four long cuts in the rocky ground, and looked up, "I assure you, you're impression of the name is false. Surely someone like yourself understands that our world is filled with traitors, murderers and other scum of the earth. My representation of Blood Justice is merely weeding out the guilty blood from the innocent."

[Gomez]

<sub>Some moments passed, and Sabbath soon looked to the sky. Not a cloud to be seen, or to hide them from the sun's blaze and rays. Hearing some scuffling some feet away from him, Sabbath turned his head dully, thinking it was a random smaller animal of prey scattering from one area to it's destination. Maybe it would soon be dead as well, along with the rest of the misfortunate souls that happened to stumble upon this land, and end up loosing life.

Glancing over to the stray again, taking a second look out of curiousity, he noticed that she was a medium sized, shaggy breed. She also had armor, a regular characteristic among the pack members of Blood Justice so far, and there were many needles protruding from her shoulders. It would be fatal to get into a tiff with this dog. Sabbath would be sure to keep his distance if this confrontation would take a turn for the worst.

The pack leaders showed no concern for Sabbath's approach on the confrontation, so he considered that it would be alright for him to move closer to the group with no problems to arise from it, except maybe a little uneasiness from the stranger. Sabbath stood, stretching his muscles once more, and clawing a few times at the tree to sharpen his dull claws. He winced, ending up breaking one of them straight from the paw itself. His paw began to bleed lightly, though it didn't seem to hurt that much for an after-pain. Thanks to his age, the minor part of his body was becoming weaker. It would be a while before he would let that show in a first impression.

Licking his paw lightly to get rid of the excess red fluid staining itself on the ground, he padded lightly at a slow pace to where the conversation was being held. He got close enough to where he could hear what Tigre and the stranger were speaking. Amazingly, he paid no attention to Giselle, though he probably should. From his time away from a regular pack, he seemed to forget some of the manners and rules that came with it. Maybe it was just the heat and uncomfortable atmostphere of the land.</sub>