Golden orbs trace the Hündin's frame as she creeps in closer and closer. Perhaps she likes the idea of a game as well, but her acidic mouth is feeble when I have the ability to confuse her with a little slip of that precious soul. I smirk wryly as I watch her pin-pointed stride, each step slow and precise. But, it would have to be, I feel, if she wants to keep some kind of even footing upon this surface at all. It was slippery, and I could hear the grind of my glass hooves as they slithered (as cautiously as possible) upon the almost diamond-like crystals strewn across it.

Unbecoming... Innerste gagged, repulsed at the expanding bone creation that spawned from somewhere (more like nowhere) that I couldn't quite see and wrapped around the upper parts of her bodice. Innerste was definitely the vainer of my voices— I wouldn't have been granted even a second should I have appeared with even the tiniest of burr's clinging to my locks.

Watch! Schwere commands suddenly, and I am instantaneously bristling my stance. Its only her top-line... her chest, belly, legs! They are exposed— destroy her! But, she had been Asylum, no? And while I cannot say I trust her I have no reason to attack her— not yet.

Yet, there comes a point when even the insane begin to question that depth of irrationality— and it seems as though I am there. Images invade my mind unexpectedly— Circuta, Eris, the two mares that I held (almost) as equals on this path. Their skin is being stripped so that the crimson of their flesh can pulse exposed whilst blood-curdling screams echo around my head. They are being tortured, broken, and their swollen, agonized expressions stab at whatever small amount of a conscience I actually possess.

I'm wavering between realities for a moment, struggling to find my footing in the real world as dread begs me to steal their souls and make them numb so that they don't have to feel that pain. But before I can even conduct the souls that are spinning around me, ready for the command, I hear the sound of Unheil booming above the screeches of my new family— It seems that hallucinations work. Then, the comforting sound of Liebling soothes my fears as I stagger backwards, hooves grazing the slick floor (gradually allowing their edges to sharpen without my realization). You saw Circuta yesterday— she is not being tortured. SNAP BACK, MEINE KLEINE!

My composure rushes back— Unheil is right (for once). Hooves are already clattering, and I hear the scrape of my own against the crystal as I continue to reverse. She's rearing! Rearing! Schwere urges a second before my own eyes can take in the Hündin's full height. Taller, larger... heavier. I am scuttling backwards, and as she reaches that full height my haunches tighten beneath my propped weight. I am lunging forward to meet her. The haunting images of destruction shattered as I move, keeping a reminder of gravity to come at the forefront of my mind.

It seems that the souls around me are silent for a moment, concentrating on the two souls that are in the room. A smaller one— Confutatis's companion perhaps (and the source of the wretched imagery— it's imagination I vow to stomp out of existence) and then her. I cannot see the pet (the only thing that probably likes her now), so I focus on the one before me instead.

My frame is angled loosely towards her right, cranium dipped left and well clear of the suspended limbs she had set in defense, while I improve the momentum of my counter attack. My muscular neck is swinging back towards Confutatis, whom I have officially marked as a foe due to this attack. My horn is now brandished for her soft undercarriage, as I watch her with glinting eyes. It is right as I swing my head, though, that I feel her right limb crash against my hindquarters, knocking me ever so slightly to the side and nicking at the flesh on the top-line, sending a ripple of pain and rage across my frame, small drops of blood emerging and clinging to the cut. My hooves slide against the crystal, snagging for a moment as my forelimbs pull me back in line and I am lunging forward again. A second for the horn to slash the flesh on her barrel before I twist (with ease on the slick surface) to my left on the forehand and kick out with both hind limbs— aiming at the right side of her stomach.

I could feel the souls begging to disorient her. But, no. Not yet. I wanted to shock her— der Sensenmann should rip every breath she takes... Unheil rumbled.