Hell of a Wedding Gift

[Meiyokashi]

Finding that rare moment to himself Praxton slips away from the joyous cheers and laughter filling the halls. Through the halls toward the exit he once met Raven again when she found him here just a year ago. With crates and other things moving in and out of the enclave it was a bit more crowded here than it was then but it was a spot he came back to often. Looking out over the distance as the evening sun shone a bright burgundy color through the purple leaves. Leaning against the doorway he watched out over those leaves rustling in the wind that also brushed across his face with an expression lost in reflection.

Reflection, however, which was broken from the call he heard out from behind him. Turning to see it he watched as the man approached, the red wolf emblazoned across the chest of his black armor. Though it took a moment he recognized the man, Carid, the leader of his outfit. With a nod toward him his brow furrowed at the corner.

"Praxton, right?" Carid asked as he approached, pulling off his helmet and tucking it under his arm. Revealing the tousled brown hair and worn face underneath. Praxton nodded in return. "Hell of a wedding, hell of a bride. Woman's a good match for you, I hear, if a bit-" he shook his head as he approached a bit closer. With a bit of a shrug he offered a smirk, "Congratulations, eh?" he extended his hand for a shake.

Praxton gave the other man a quick measure, but his thoughts drifted. Reaching out to match his arm he clasped his hand around the other mans forearm. Clasping down harder than expected Carid pulled Praxton in with a forceful yank. Stumbling over Praxton caught himself on the Carids shoulders. Looking down to him with wild confusion in his eyes as his body caught up and the cold sheering pain seeped up from his lower abdomen. In his side a bracer mounted blade dug deep into his chest. With a thrust it was dug in just a bit deeper before Praxton pushed back violently, the wound opening in the process.

Helmet clattering to the floor the bloodied blade was held out to the side after a deft slash through the air sprayed crimson along the floor and wall. "Mir'osik," he shouted with venom, spitting off to the side. However, as Praxton collapsed onto a knee [he] grinned and stepped forward with a menacing step, "Ret'urcye mh-" thrown into the wall he's cut off by the sudden appearance of Dredgen. Head tucked low and against the other mans body he rushed him up against the wall. An elbow coming down on the back of Dredgens head caused him to loosen his grip just enough for [him] to slip free of Dredgens grasp.

Looking up to track him Dredgen found another Mandalorian wearing the same red wolf emblazoned armor run up and raise their blaster. Ducking down he brought his arm up by his neck and the blast bolts deflected off the Beskar he wore. Each one pinging off the metal and landing scattered around the entrance. Raising his head again just in time to watch the two rush off down the hallway as he jumped to his feet but he paused. Pivoting around he looked to Praxton as he held his gut. Dredgen froze, checking over his shoulder again and grumbling under his breath as he ran over to Praxton. With a bit of forceful care he got Praxtons back against one of the checks and started quickly with a stimpack pulled from a thigh mounted pack.

Hearing the commotion Dex and Kagr were quick to their feet and nearby. Skidding along the floor Dex was the first to come upon the scene, staring blankly at Dredgen and Praxton as Kagr came up behind her. Standing there dumbfounded as she glanced around, making sense of it all. Feeling a hand on her shoulder as Kagr too slid the last few steps up from behind just on the tail end as Dredgen was already shouting.

"Bastard went that way, wolf-chest," he shouted and the hand on Dex's shoulder was fleeting as Kagr quickly took off in that direction. Still staring Dex just looked to Praxton, reading the sweat quickly forming on his brow- "Get Raven," the command cut through the reverie and she only nodded before running off. Scrambling to get her helmet situated on her head while she ran.