The shadows lengthen as the sun sinks towards the bleak line of the indigo horizon scraped by insurmountable and distant mountains. Darkness crawls over her skin, oil pouring over her coat, the hideous mask on her face gleaming with faded yellow. Cool sunlight silhouettes the hard lines of her shoulders and hindquarters, illuminating the curve of her back, glittering on the sweat collecting in the hollow of her spine.
Demon.
Her Mongrel, too young to be of any use, sits to the side, hidden within the sullen branches of a low-lying bush, eyes two gleaming circles of amber. Rain falls heavily, a torrential downpour which turns everything to little more than a bedraggled and soaked thing of pity. It drips off her skin, turning her wet and sleek, and glistens on the pale bone armour materializing over her charcoal form. Her eye, brilliant amber, penetrates the darkness, seeking out a form. She would prefer ambush, the slither of soaked grass beneath her hooves as she stretches out, jaws parting silently, ropes of acid snapping as they draw apart, and then the lunge of her mouth to skull, the lift of her hooves to crush and break, the snap of her tail tangling on her legs. Unfortunately, he does not come wandering, even after what seems after many days of agonizing waiting, and moment by moment her patience wear thin.
At long last she inhales, letting the frigid sundown air burn in her lungs. Confutatis, reaper of lost souls, killer of fools, destroyer of enemies, lets forth her battle-cry to rent the air and split skulls. "APOLLO!" She roars, lifting off her forelegs, the rumble of thunder and the shatter of lightning brightening the world for a split moment. "Face me, coward, and fight me like a man!"
CONFUTATIS
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