Talking was for the formal, and for some reason, today was dubbed as Elsa’s informal day. Midas may have wanted words, but he surely would not get any on this fine day. For, in only those few moments, Midas had been barely able to turn. Elsa was numb for a moment as her body collided with his strong, muscled shoulder. A sharp breath wheezed down her throat, her body’s desperate attempt to bring oxygen back into her body. However, she could spare no more than a simple moment, tender loving care would have to wait until after a victor had walked out of this predicament. And thus ensued one hopefully painful bite, planted as lovingly as possible on the one that she blindly followed. Her teeth dug into his flesh, no doubt causing a sharp pinch that should be shocking to her leader. She wanted to prove her worth as not only a lowly mason, but as a kickass ninja warrior.

Although, it seemed that she could not use shock to purely incapacitate Midas. Quickly, his wings unpinned, and looming golden feathers clouded her vision. Suddenly, flurries of feathers were released upon her head. Whack, whack, whack, thrice these wings beat down upon her. A dull pain bubbled in her skull, like a pressure headache. Elsa growled, and reached up her mouth to bite or pull out a couple of feathers. He cannot just beat upon her like a child!

Then, Mr. Golden Feathers had the idea to try and kick her. Still a little distraught and confused from the flying feathers, all she could do was take a step back. Midas’ back hooves just missed her legs, and scraped the bottom of her chest. A small bruise would no doubt form, but it had kicked a little air from her. Already being low on her oxygen consumption, Elsa hissed a breath in again, and pushed off her back legs to follow.

Hopefully coming up along Midas’ right side, Elsa shoved her body weight, shoulder first, into him. She hoped he had not moved, and was still moving forward in order to cause the most trip-up. Maybe, if she were lucky, he would trip and fall! Although she seriously doubted it, Midas seemed to have his shit together when it came to fighting. However, she would not take feathers to the face again! After hopefully pushing him off-balance, her teeth aimed to snap at the joint of his wing. She hoped it would make him a sore flier!

Pulling away, she prayed she had left little reminders to Midas that he had a kickass mason. With the sun beating upon her beautiful hide, and the light kissing her, nothing could take her down from her pedestal.

[Words: 456 || 2/3 || 0/1 defense || @[Midas]]
"Talking"

Elsa