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09-08-2012, 01:49 AM
A snorting laugh escaped Vikram at the God's evident rising displeasure. "I only seek to buy time for my family. Something you seem to not understand." Was his only retort, given in even, rumbling tones. His hooves met the scorched grass even as the Sun God's voice built in volume, muscles tensing in preparation for what was undoubtedly soon to follow.
His expectations were proven correct when the God's mouth parted as his own had done just moments before. Knowing what was going to happen, he dove to his left, spitting a last defiant plume of flame back. But he couldn't get out of the way fast enough. Probably would never have been able to get out of the way, not entirely.
It was luck that had his wings still up when that plume of fire reached. Luck that the God's aim, his head, had been held so slow during his own fire-breathing. Was held so low in his prepared stance. The fire razed along his right side from shoulder to flank before loosing oomph. An outraged and pained squeal broke from the hybrid's maw, so atypical of his usual range of sounds. But he fled, thundering after his mate's siblings though every other step brought searing agony. Even moving his wings to a more accommodating position for running was an exercise in pain, but less so than having the wind of his passage tug on his wings and thus even more burnt flesh. He gritted his teeth against the pain, hearing the crackle of fire behind, eating up the grass. Now was definitely NOT a time to stop.
His expectations were proven correct when the God's mouth parted as his own had done just moments before. Knowing what was going to happen, he dove to his left, spitting a last defiant plume of flame back. But he couldn't get out of the way fast enough. Probably would never have been able to get out of the way, not entirely.
It was luck that had his wings still up when that plume of fire reached. Luck that the God's aim, his head, had been held so slow during his own fire-breathing. Was held so low in his prepared stance. The fire razed along his right side from shoulder to flank before loosing oomph. An outraged and pained squeal broke from the hybrid's maw, so atypical of his usual range of sounds. But he fled, thundering after his mate's siblings though every other step brought searing agony. Even moving his wings to a more accommodating position for running was an exercise in pain, but less so than having the wind of his passage tug on his wings and thus even more burnt flesh. He gritted his teeth against the pain, hearing the crackle of fire behind, eating up the grass. Now was definitely NOT a time to stop.
