You hate the black cat that has come to help you in your mission to cause death. You’ll hate it even more in a few moments when the tiger decides to join in as well. For now, you enjoy the sickening crush of rib bone underneath your hooves- bending to your will and then maybe snapping when it can no longer take the strain that you have placed upon it. But you do not stop- you see red and though it may be the death of you, it will be the death of Krieger as well. Everyone here can see that and you will stop at nothing until it is reality instead of just prophecy.

As you turn back, though, your brain screams at you that you should have been more careful. A horn lowered in your direction dangerously threatens to spear you through the heart. Dodge, DODGE! your intoxicated mind calls to you, and you try to heed it’s commands. Too slow, too slow! are the next words your mind thinks as you feel the beasts horn dig into your right shoulder and tear out a good chunk of flesh there. Down, down, down, the horn scrapes, the line traversing the entire shoulder and flaying enough flesh there to leave a very strong river of blood flowing. You do not give up though- onward, onward!

Now it is your companion that is enraged, though. You have come here seeking justice for what she deems to be one of the two good things in your life. Krieger is trying to keep you from that, and maiming you in the process. She won’t have it! You can feel her exhaustion as she begins to use her own magic to pick up as many nearby rocks as she can and then flails them through the air wildly, trying to aim them in the general direction of Krieger, hoping to see them beat his hide or head or eyes.

As for you… you know exactly what you’re going to do. You try to use your battle knowledge to plan. The cat is on the man’s back. If you were the stallion, you would most likely rear up. You decide that your best option is to try and hit him, knocking him to the ground. Really digging into the snow, you take some time (hopefully due to the distraction provided by the cat) and circle around to give yourself momentum before trying to barrel directly into Krieger’s shoulder. Again you slam, and again your dagger searches for skim. Stab, stab!

“If either of you kill him,” you pant between ragged breaths to the two cats, “You will die a death slower than you could ever imagine.” Oh, it’s the truth too. You will hunt them and maim them until they beg you for death, and then you won’t give it to them. No, this death… You thought it was for you, but in circling you have caught sight of Elsa, and now you know whose death this is. You will knock the beast on the ground, you will hold him there, and you will not let him rise, but you won’t do the killing. This death is Elsa’s. You will make her take it… she just doesn’t know it yet.
@[Krieger]