Like the legs of a centipede her armor emerges, sliding across blackened skin in violent ivory contrast, glowing softly in the fading light. Briefly the King's appreciative of the color of bones, for the she-wolf previously had the advantage of color in the dimness. She's silent in her thoughts, in the madness that ravages her mind, and if Kaj were not so determined to defeat the sickened quasi-ruler with the milky eye and haunted features, perhaps he could have summoned pity for her. Instead he presses his chin down, against the warm solid feel of his own armor, of the glass Kahlua had woven directly upon him so long ago. No. There will be no pity for this deranged filly playing in Kaj's shadow. She desires only to ruin, to wreck and demolish until she can hail herself ruler on a throne of slaughtered bodies, sheep in the chutes to sacrifice their lives unwillingly. Those bodies will never accumulate beneath her. It is his main drive, to remember all those who relied on him and know he must shield them from that fate.

Her game begins, accompanying it the sinking of magic into his mind, stomach churning and throat tightening at the images conjured for him. Instinct rips into him like a visceral being, demanding he help his brethren. Already he had failed them. Would her throne begin with him, a forever testament to how he had led those trusting sheep to her slaughterhouse? Body is paralyzed with horror, yet his mind struggles, confused. There are no screams. In all his seasons, crafting sorrow in rivers of blood on battlefields, there was never a death as horrific as those shown that weren't accompanied by a maelstrom of shrieking. It's a trick, the same illusions Mirage had loved to employ. Mirage...! Understanding overtakes him, images shattering.

Across ground glinting with shards in lackluster lighting she charges, and he finally sees her again. Anger's like venom in his veins as he imagines the torture she could inflict with her whelp's powers, vividly recalls Resplendence and Kahlua screaming horrifically in the Sanctuary, subjected to what he'd just seen. With a jerk of limbs he lunges into a hurried gait to meet her, slower due to mass but face set with fury at the mere thought of her potential torture methods.

Body remembers before mind as she coils. It's a trick he won't fall for again, not after he suffered through a blow far fiercer than her limbs could manage from Maskan. Inwardly he curses that she's faster than his mentor, practically seeing the moves before they transpire. The King's too large to effectively evade in time, and so ceases his attempt at movement in favor of reacting. Shifts his weight onto hefty hindquarters, swinging his forelegs to the left, away from the blow Maskan had once landed. Her skull-face is a beacon in the shadows, mouth gaping. Moving with the motion of his front half, head swings to his left, uncomfortable with letting Confutatis out of sight. Let her bite upon the protective glass, break her jaw upon the armor forged by those she wished to rule and ruin. Agile he may be but he's earthbound in moments, aware speed isn't on his side as forelegs touch down, facing more to his left. Turns towards the flash of her armor in the dimness, shifting awkward, uncooperative limbs that fight the sudden contradicting change of direction.

He's right about the sightlessness, blind to her kick as he turns, pain flourishing up the lower joint of his right foreleg's knee, scraping and bleeding. Eyes tighten alongside a strangled grunt, leaning weight off the limb almost immediately as he continues to turn in awkward left-limb dependent contortion to his right, surging after Confutatis. Jaw is clenched as he hunts her, there's no longer any thought but taking her down. Mindless in all but what's been drilled into his mind since youth; experience.

Weight focused on his left foreleg he kicks forward into the fastest gait he can manage as he pursues her, lunging towards the hindquarters that had last been facing him. Aims to slam his left shoulder into her vulnerable right flank, head ducked low to accommodate his height as he gratefully shoves to the left, resounding ache in his knee persistent as the vulnerable joint spasms and stiffens. Left wing is shifted aloft to avoid getting caught between their bodies. Jaw opens to return her failed bite, eyeing the unguarded section past her right crest, thanking the length of his body as he stretches to potentially clamp down on it. Hopes her blinded right eye will prevent her from reacting to him fast enough, unashamed to take advantage of her disability if she'd dared to try to take over his family. She deserved worse.

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Attack: 1/4
Word Count: 800
Translations: None
Personal Notes: Injuries: Swelling/stiffening right knee joint, scraped and bleeding

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