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10-05-2013, 07:20 AM
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But your blade it might be too sharp Her mad dash toward the buttocks of the Reaper yielded little profit, her horn slicing thinly into the margins of the muscle as he plummeted forwards in a successful attempt to minimize the damage done. Her disappointment was felt as a deep pang inside her gut, yet as her eyes raised she saw the bloodied gash that had been the result of her initial attack. The sight gave her some satisfaction as a smirk toyed at the corners of her lips. The cloak fluttered about his muscles as he moved, tarnished with coagulated blood where her horn had assaulted tender flesh. The movement the cloak rippled upwards and for a moment, her elated mood regarding the brutal gash had distracted her. His muscles hidden, she had realized her mistake a moment too late as she pushed her heavy body up in an attempt to avoid the clash of hooves against flesh. His legs came up, beating her chest as her front legs only barely raised above the ground. She threw her head back as a wild snort billowed from flared nares, feeling the deep pang of pain resonate through her pectorals and wind her. Yet it was not simply the battering of his heavy feet that she felt. There was something more to his attack. Something that filled her heart with dread. As his hooves left her chest she felt the breath seep from her lungs, as if the strength of her body was drained and unwilling to muster any form of movement. She groaned, the pain sharp, her own front legs becoming grounded from the pseudo-rear she had attempted. She knew there was no time to hesitate, yet his touch felt draining; the potency of her life seemed to ebb away by just a simple kick. Gritted teeth and ears pressed flat against her skull, she attempted to dart her body as swiftly as she could manage around his side, moving alongside his left. She hoped he remained still long enough for her to bite down upon the hood that he had managed to remove from his face. Artemis tried to pull the fabric as she passed in order to mask his face once more, hoping she might force his head lower as she did so before turning right over her shoulder in a bid to face him. There, she endeavored to rear, her front legs flailing before her in the hopes that her plot to re-mask him had been successful so that her hooves might meet with his face. Her attempt was pained and she sucked in deep breaths, her body feeling weak yet she pushed herself, not willing to give up at the first hurdle. Yet as her hooves lashed out, she felt a pang of dread that he might play the same trick if her attack connected. That fear lingered in the forefront of her mind. She had no idea who this black demon was, yet she wished this was her only meeting with the shadowed stranger. "speak" [501 words. 2/3. @[Deimos] Artemis is kicked in the chest and feels the effects of Deimos' magic. he attempts to move past his left, her right, to grab his hood and pull it over his head hoping to force his head lower. Then she tries to face him, attempting a rear in order to attack his face.  |
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