Board Thread:What Would You Do?/@comment-32347114-20190814151937/@comment-30014014-20190814165307

"Of course..."

Laurent crosses his arms, promptly sitting on the soft sand underneath. Amidst this, he shifts position, a palm on his face at the absurd scene before him "Why are they here of all places?!"

Three dominant wolf kinds slugging at each other in a rumble of flying sand. A merge of black, green and blue fur entangled with their respective owners further mixed. The same way physical might, natural harnesses, and magical anchors now strife in a three-way rumble.

"Get off your stations, you spoiled highnesses and come take it like real gals!"

"We would do no such thing, you reprobates! Our dignities are not to be squandered even amid our righteous claim to this holy vestige!"

"The fact that you have to tell them to drop to your size is an indication that your gals ain't worth this ball!"

"Shut it you black caricatures! Nobody asked you!"

"Oh, yea?! You want to go down, you generic nobody!"

"Try me, hot-dog!"

From the scene, Laurent can see a blue fur werewolf now exchanging vicious blows with a dark-coated woman spouting exacerbated flames around her eyes.

Magic and sparks fly all over the place, leading to more of the bikini-clad denizens to continue scrub after them, ever patient in their expression. Unlike Laurent, they did not seem to have a problem, seeing the balloon as a worthwhile cause for what they see as an amicable scuffle.

And the kobolds watching from the sidelines, they merely hope to have it fall on their side or at the very least, share it with whoever claims it.

Unfortunately for Laurent, nobody seemed to abate from the struggle as he facepalms again "Oh, right! They're monsters. They have all the energy in the world to bicker for a ball. Great..."

And this, they did. For ten minutes, then twenty. Eventually, his three buddies came around, curious about the dust storm kicked about sparking with arcane and fire shades.

"Yo, Laurent man, what gives?"

"I don't know, you tell me..." He broadcasts his hand toward the brawl.

"Holy...is that a gathering of dog women around?"

"Yep".

"And...that's our ball at the center..."

"Yep".

"And dogs love balls..."

"Hmm-hmm".

"Well, sh--

Thirty minutes pass, seeing no end to the brawl. At this point, the four friends had decided 'Well, if we can't get it now, might as well enjoy the show until they tire out'. One of them had made a quick run to the local KFC restaurant, looking for some delicious crunchy chicken "Guys! KFC up in this!"

"Yo, pass it around!"

"I got you, mate!" The buyer hurls a bucket at each of them alongside two 2-liter soft drinks planted on the sand. They eat and watch the triad, with no advantages becoming a decisive win, be it the Anubis' arcane, the hellhounds' natural sprout of flame or the werewolves' numbers.

"Man, they are really going at it". Speak one guy, his last piece of chicken falling in his bucket of bones.

"Tell me about it. I was surprised myself" Laurent says, also done with his meal and drink.

"Well, may be a while, but, we'll get our-- what the?" Their third buddy, Glint, had his senses telling him of a nearby presence. A kobold long seeing them speak and eat, her nose twitching with the scent of bone.

"Guys?" Looking at her sitting form, he was a bit unsure of what to do, knowing that any alert could send the pack after them. Yet, she was waiting. Patiently. Looking at his hand still carrying a bone. Her tail wags furiously, anticipating its movement.

"Ohh, she must be attracted to your bone, dude. Try throwing it away".

"Yea..." Glint hurls it afar, watching the canine wolf sprint on all four, only to catch it in a haik Mary, clasped between her paws.

They watch in astonishment for a second. Ten seconds. Twenty. A minute passes before they suddenly facepalm in unison "Seriously?"

"Holy--how did we not see that?!"

"I know, guy. That's a serious 'bruh' moment, this is!"

"Ugh, regrets".

The four lads take to their feet, buckets in hands, bones within. They walk just a bit closer to the brawl, their ball still standing at the middle of it all. And they throw their bones. All of them. Many kobolds cannot resist the allure of grabbing a bone for themselves.

However, even their number is not enough to stop the barrage of bones from landing several meters to the left from the strife mob, who immediately stop, sniffing the air.

Their piercing gazes immediately spot the lonely bones planted on the dunes of sand in their dozens. They stand immobile, spotting one they'd personally take. Silence from all of them. Fire and magic die down, replaced by whispers of winds.

Then, a step forward from one of each. The most vocal of them all, the werewolf glaring at the hellhound "The hell do you think you're going?"

"Take a guess, mutt! Bones for my sisters!"

"The hell you are! These are ours!"

"Over my dead body, mutt!"

They growl at each other, only to then growl at the hovering Anubis silently lifting the prized items. Their hands-on her hovering feet, anchoring her down and her concentration "No way, dog!"

And a brawl ignited anew. This time, for bones. Far from the ball "Holy--it actually worked?"

"I know".

"Hey Laurent--

"Yea, yea". Laurent sneaks his way to the shining balloon, gilded under the sun under a 'Be careful' from one of his buddies. There was little need, the canines' pride gambled in the improvised arena. Taking it, he flees the scene, unwanting to remain here any more than he needed.

"Laurent, my man!" They cheer as he runs back to them, the prize in hand.

"Jeez, I could feel the heat from here". He hands it to Glint who began dribbling it.

"Yea, that's scary" shivers the third one "Anyway, any of y'all got the score?"

"No".

"No..."

"No..."

"Well...sh--" They are to restart their ball game, further, this time.