Fire, it seemed to have aerosolized from nothingness, consuming the cat in a swathe of igneous plumes and devouring radiation - or, that's how she imagined it. Brows furrowed in momentary confusion, she shifted her gaze to Aaron, then, who seemed to be focusing on something. Magic. A brief, ironic trace of guilt reared its head within her gut, for it was not out of hatred or frivolousness that this creature had attacked them, but instead out of pure necessity: to sate its bristling hunger. It was simply nature's way.
Not that she was particularly fond of being mistaken for another creature's dinner, but she also knew that nature was always balanced. Simply because horses possessed the ability to reason, and they were perhaps the dominant species in Loorien, it did not mean that the tables would never turn, and one or two of their kind would occasionally find themselves parceled in a similar scenario. Still, it would be foolish and void of any sense to allow a carnivore to succeed in its efforts, of course, and it would appear as though Aaron's magic had been enough to 'dissuade' him attacking again. And yet, the fire continued.
"Stop." She insisted, albeit quietly. The creature was writhing, pleading in the most horrifying of notes for the pain to come to an end. Aaron's heart was in the right place, this she knew, but she felt some frail need to oust a portion of its agony. The Gods had created this being, just as they had created Cassiopeia and the equine standing beside her. Something spoke to her; some internal voice of reason which convinced her that continuing to fuel the searing flames was somehow against the Gods. Karma, she supposed.
However, it had not been superfluous. The lion was gone, fleeing desperately from the pain that had been induced upon it, and for that, she thought, she was thankful. She was certain it had learned that horses were formidable foe.
She watched it indifferently. Neither had emerged unscathed. The cat fled with a gaping limp - likely due to a broken bone - as well as burns allocated by the licking courses of an unseeable, visually imperceptible flame. Cassiopeia had also been dealt her fair share of injuries. As the adrenaline began to null, its effects suddenly void upon the contusions and lacerations that marred her body, she began to ache. She arced her neck around to observe the damage, her eyes catching a glimpse of the afflictions on her barrel and the collapsed conformations of her wing. A group of feathers were now gone as it hung out from her side - useless.
She sighed shakily, her heart still skittering within her chest, and solemnly lowered her head as she fought to regain the usual recurrence of her breath.
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