Kneel in Pieces [Battle Thread]

Over the mule went at Ed's claws, and a cruel giggle slipped the pink thing's maw at the sight of its riders - three children - spilling across the cobbled street. Angel had no specific sympathy for the young things; she hadn't cared for Lilo, would happily have scratched her up upon first meeting had the initial plan not been to win her trust, and found the misery of this trio to be quite amusing. All of them had fresh bruises and scrapes from their tumble; the littlest one had burst into tears as soon as he landed, while his two slightly-older sisters huddled close to him, gripped by a silent horror at the sight of their mule being ripped to shreds by a hyena.

Unsheathing her claws, Experiment Six-Two-Four purred in satisfaction and started towards them.

"No!"

That was the man, again. Even weaponless, he seemed determined to put himself in harm's way, throwing himself between Angel and his children. It was probably intended to be quite the noble, heroic sacrifice... had the pink gremlin any intention of playing his game. Rather, Angel leapt up and scrambled over the man's back, as if he was nothing more than a lumpy and awkwardly-placed rock. Her unexpected weight was enough to send him sprawling; as he stumbled, Angel easily landed back on the ground and continued her path towards the kids.

The middle child had noticed her now. A wordless cry sounded from her lips as she pointed to the pink thing approaching, forcing the older girl to divide her attention between the two threats. Angel could almost see the child's thought process; Ed looked like the more dangerous, but he was busy making a meal of their mule, while Angel appeared less vicious but was the one actively paying attention to them.

She ignored Ed's glance her way. Angel wasn't here to tell others what to do; she was here to show her own worth to the cause. Maybe even get regarded as something more special, like she was, around the Black Keep instead of just another random ally.

Ed could do whatever he wanted, she wasn't going to babysit him.

"Meega nala queesta!" She sneered the words at the small things, even as she sprang forward in a sudden bound. It didn't get quite the affect she'd hoped for - the vulgar meaning was, it seemed, rather lost in translation - but nonetheless, the two girls cried out, the younger one falling back behind the older. That suited Angel just fine; she kicked the older girl hard in the chest, sending her sprawling in a heap on top of the younger one. Snickering at their cries of alarm and pain, the trog took a moment to survey what was going on across the square. Her antennae twitched gleefully as she watched their so-called great leader spilled from his horse by a far scrawnier man, relishing the carnage.

Did it matter to her who won or lost? To a point, it did; but Jumba's experiments were all programmed to be bad, and to enjoy the humiliation of others. So she laughed at Shan Yu's fall, just as she would have had the same thing happened to Gantu.

The moment of diversion proved unfortunate. Angel barely registered as something touched one of her antennae; but she definitely registered when that same thing yanked hard on the pink appendage. The abomination's trailing antennae were her most sensitive part; while they gave her a distinct grace when they flowed behind her, they were also vulnerable to getting snagged or grabbed. Loosing an involuntary yelp, Angel whipped around, wrenching the antennae out of the hands of the child who'd seized it.

It was the older girl. Even bruised and scared, she was defiant; standing protectively over her younger sister and brother, terror-filled eyes speared Angel with anger. The defiance would have been cute, did her antennae not hurt so much, and the pink gremlin hissed at the children in much the same way a cat would--

Then had to duck out of the way as the kids' father swung at her.

This was getting out of hand - and wasn't even what she'd been tasked with, anyway. Angel snarled at the man, claws bared-- then abruptly sprinted in the opposite direction. Quite besides the fact that wasn't her task, her sharp hearing could hardly fail to pick up that someone had singled her out as a target; and Angel knew far better than to be standing still when that happened. Whoever was targetting her would have to catch her first.



Translations:
Meega nala queesta! = Vulgar tantalog swear words, untranslatable

Shan Yu’s command was totally unnecessary. If Denahi had felt hesitation before, the annoyance of missing helped clear it away. “Nuagh!” His head snapped back, the beads in his brunette hair flailing. He tasted blood on the inside of his lip. “That’s it!”

And after getting hit in the face—by a basket— there was nothing but humiliated rage in the Inuit’s eyes.

He wrenched his spear out of the cobblestones as his horse plowed by the spot the refugees fled from. Angrily widened eyes over gritted teeth pinned the shape of the dog lady running at the back of the pack. Running on all fours. He was going to have more than a shred of that animal’s clothing on his spear by the end of this, no matter what.The middle child’s fuming was interrupted when he was a yard or so from the doorway sheltering his prey. A crack, loud as the splitting of a glacier, spooked his horse. Denahi wasn’t an experience rider enough to keep his seat when the animal reared, and found himself thrown to the street in a blue heap.

He glared around the street, heart pounding, fist clenched around his spear. Confused, the Inuit didn’t immediately see the woman who had caused the sound, but when he instinctively looked at his targets, there was a new person between him and them. A woman, tall, pale, thin, and shining in what looked like armor. She held a sword, sort of like Shan Yu’s, but much straighter. Denahi was not used to fighting women, or seeing women with a look like striking flints in their eyes. This one was fixing him with that look.

Kenai’s brother got to his feet, gripping his spear and edging closer to her. How was he supposed to get between all that armor? Could he get around her to the dog he really wanted to pin? Still angry, the young villain wasn't exactly eager to hurt this lady. Then his dark eyes caught something shining on her chest plate. A lion streaking past, shouting orders, lowered his defensive crouch and sent the point home.

Black brows stretched up. Denahi, not a seasoned soldier, turned away from his opponent to shout back at Shan Yu. “Bishop!” Screamed the young man. “Suns!”

Then he swiveled back and prowled forward, his eyes shadowed under an angrily lowered head, one side of his nose wrinkled in the beginnings of a snarl. If she was his enemy in war, he’d treat her like any animal needing hunting. When the door behind her actually opened and the refugees and collie dropped into it’s shelter, he stepped forward more aggressively and jabbed at the armored woman. They were escaping! Shan Yu would have his hide.

Chief hadn't really intended to end up anywhere near Nottingham, let alone end up in the middle of a fight. Since arriving, and getting used to life with the Enchanted Suns (which involved a lot of keeping away from a lot of the exasperating young'uns running around all over the place), he'd spent a fair while exploring the extent of Suns territory, and getting used to the fact that he was gonna have to tolerate varmints he'd normally have chased after, to drive away or kill, depending on whether or not he caught them.

He'd wandered into Nottingham before realizing it was beyond Suns territory, and he'd decided to take a rest before heading back out, initially paying the group of ragged group of humans and their animals no mind, save to try to ignore them and their ruckus, when sudden screams, bellows, and shouts, accompanied by the familiar tang of fresh;y spilled blood, interrupted any chance at rest he'd have.

"What in tarnation's going on here?" he grumped to nobody in particular as he rounded a corner and saw what was going on for himself. A bunch of Thorns, if the shouts were anything to go by, led by a man who looked part bear, were in the thick of it with some other Suns, and several unfortunate wretches were caught up in the mix as well.

Shortly after, one of those big cats, even bigger than the mountain lions he'd occasionally seen, and rarely tangled with, abruptly raced by, shouting orders to the Suns, but it seemed she'd overlooked him, since she didn't so much as glance his way. No matter. He heard her orders well enough, even if she hadn't addressed him, per se, and he wasted no time racing after the odd pink critter she'd mentioned.

His long legs allowed him to close the distance between them with several long bounds, and a low snarl rumbled in his chest before he snapped at the pink critter, not caring whether he got hold of an ear, or one of the long, trailing head-tails she had. That part didn't matter, long as he put paid to her headlong flight, and forced her to turn to face him.

Colleen only stopped pounding when Cassandra appeared, putting a nice long sword between herself, the refugees, and the man with the spear. She opened her mouth to retort sharply. She liked the silver-clad human all right, but the collie’s blood was up. Her instinctive reaction to help was never very gracious at the best of times, anyway, even if in the back of her mind the schoolteacher was more than thrilled to see Cass. Before her temper could flare at an ally, she was interrupted by pistol fire.

CRACK

Colleen flinched in perfect sync with all three humans clustered around her, and the little girl’s shock gave way to hysterical crying.

She tried to will her orange fur to flatten. It was easier to take heart when she saw Princess Nala race by—good, reinforcements—and at least the blaggard was unhorsed now. ”Well, if you’ve got any better ideas, run ‘em by me.” Brown eyes were locked on the brunette. He was still coming, and she didn’t at all like the hungry way he looked at her. Positively savage!

Another wail from the little girl had Colleen whipping back around to work her wrath on the door again. The idea of some shivering wretch locking out a crying child! ”That’s et! Ye’ve got exactly three seconds in there, d’ye hear? We’re coming in if I have to break!” Thud! the dog’s small shoulder was not made for ramming, but none would know that from the power behind it. ”DOWN!” Thump! There wasn’t much time before Johnny-O’Spear engaged their only protector. ”THIS!” Thump!

”DOO-woooa—!” The last thump didn’t land. Colleen felt a rush of relief and satisfaction mixed with the gut-adrenaline of falling when the door opened. She felt the little girl tumble against her hip and the child’s mother stumbling over the feathery tail at her back.

She found herself half-suspended, very ungracefully, against someone’s torso. Mouth faster than mind for once, the dreamsicle dog scrambled to get her own feet under her. ”That’s more like it! What d’y...”

The familiar but faded scent of fried halibut mixed with Grizzle’s Cologne hit her snout first and acted like a slap to knock the anger right out of her expression. It was followed immediately by looking up and registering the lean, pointed face that she’d been scolding out of her memories ever since leaving Tundra Town.

The refugees, the sounds of battle, Cassandra, the man with the spear, and the homely blacksmith’s house of Nottingham all trampled one another leaving her mind. Colleen gaped up at a wolf. A wolf who couldn’t possibly be—but couldn’t be anyone other than—Connor Huntford.

Not leaning carelessly out of a delivery truck window. Not sulkily glancing at her from behind crates. Not wheeling a wolf cub’s chair through snow drifts, or towing Abigail by the hoof across a street, or surrounded by taser-toting thugs.

Here. In Nottingham. WHAT.

”Y-you.” The word’s tone was completely unreadable.

Big brown eyes. Little brown freckles like chocolate chips spilled into snow. Bright orange fur. The smell of Cinnabone coffee, even though she couldn’t possibly have seen the inside of one of those places for months, and paper, of course.

These things filled up Connor’s insides in a way that blocked out everything else within reach of his senses.

Colleen DunBark. Definitely here. Just spilling into his arms. Through the dumbfounded mush that used to be his brain, Connor tried to remember the last time she’d been this close to him.

The fully armed Sun outside the door and the people with their weird, flat faces who appeared to be with Colleen were just noise in the background. The only things the wolf could make himself focus on was getting his mouth to work properly. He should say something. Ask her how she got here. Fix it.

Her voice jarred him a little. Used to be hard for the Tundra town local to catch what the Scottish accent was saying the first time around. He’d been remembering every word in it for what felt like a stupid long time.

Connor blinked dazedly and, with absent movements, sort of lifted the collie up a little higher without actually putting her on her feet. She was currently dead weight. “Colleen,” went the vacant voice.

That was it. That was all he got. The delivery truck of words for his mouth to actually use had rolled up it’s door and been proven empty.

Connor’s mouth shut with a clip of big teeth. No sooner had he decided he must not be dreaming than she was pushing him away and yelling with all the wrinkled-freckle fury he remembered. This was still better than last time he’d been on the receiving end of her snapping. But it didn’t stop the hotheaded timber wolf from reacting to that tone.

Because hold on, she had been on top of him!

So by the time the Snowflake Hall teacher was rushing on to her next snappish question the Huntford boy’s face was more thundercloud than surprised. He half-spread his arms, scoffing reflexively, but couldn’t get a word in edgewise.

Yep, she was really here.

”What d’you think yer doin’, following me?”

No! he almost retorted, but his jaw stilled halfway to spitting it. Well. Kind of. But no, not really—he hadn’t known she was in this specific town! He couldn’t figure out how to answer until she continued, ”How’d you know I was here?!” Jeez, he hated the way everything she had to say sounded like he was being interrogated. So the defensive Wing answered with the first thing that popped into his head, gruff voice mocking.

“Oh I dunno, maybe because nobody says ‘yellow livered!’” Air quotes knifed the space between them. “And hey, I’m not the one who dropped in out of nowhere—I mean what—”

It was easier to focus on clapping back when he wasn’t looking at Colleen’s face, so Connor wound up catching sight of the fight about to go down just past her, outside. “What is all this? Here, get in!” The bad-tempered mammal moved without registering, hustling forward and moving the female further into the building. His snout pointed left and right, trying to decide which human to grab first. Instinctively, he figured everybody should get away from the doorway,but that was more of an autopilot thought.

Mostly he was just very conscious of how dumb he’d sounded a second ago, and probably looked, and how that wasn’t at all how he wanted their first talk to go. But also who the fuzz could blame him with all this crud going on, and she had to come in an shoot off at the mouth—but he deserved it—but still!

The steps of Shan Yu would have seemed like a stumble to any trained eye for swordsmanship. But as the heavier man's lunge glanced off of the lightfooted Prince, his own boots tramped the ground with an energy and fury that looked more like excitement.

Long, lank hair flared behind the Hun's head. For all his greater size, his whip back to swat his opponent's stab aside was frighteningly quick. The tip grazed his ribcage and managed to nick him under layers of fur. Shan Yu only bared his teeth in a grin that was more snarl than joy. The fire of battle was exploding in every part of his well-trained body.

"What's this?" He hissed, opening his arms briefly. "Perhaps the Prince of a weak people is a challenge after all?"

With uncanny swiftness he raised his sword--then a moment later struck with his fist instead, aiming a punch at the other man's jaw. With luck, it would break like a reed. Though horrifically playful in this battle, Shan Yu was still the scourge of China. He had seen enough of this enemy's strange elegance and grace in battle now to make a deduction. The Prince had some discipline, some training, even if it wasn't the brutal strength of the Huns or the regimented discipline of China. But it was discipline that likely stood on formality, played on mannerisms and rules that, Shan Yu gambled, would make it the weaker fighting style.

He was going to enjoy picking this little challenger apart.

Then his face slackened for a moment. He'd heard Denahi's cry.

Black brows arrowed down over the villain's eyes, and he chanced a glance over at the Inuit. He was facing off a woman in armor. Another glance revealed his small team being met at every corner by mismatched heroes. A lioness sealed the assurance.

"Suns." Repeated the warlord in disgust. His attention refocused on the Prince. He'd have to dispatch the young monarch quickly now--their quarry could escape. Especially with that dragon on one end, like something out of a legend. She was small. If he could defeat this runty leader fast enough, Shan Yu was eager to test his strength against the fire-breathing reptile.

Failing that...he would not allow the refugees to get away again. This thatch-roofed pit would burn.