As I shake free the tight grasp on my mind that holds me hostage, shifting awkwardly in the squelching mud, I breathe a quick sigh of relief. I've startled the griffin from my shoulders, and as her claws slip from my flesh I feel free to focus on what really needs to happen now. The next attack. My eyes flash with rage, with focus, and my teeth are bared for the flesh of the enemy. Or rather... my dear herd mate with whom I struggle to destroy. It's all relative, isn't it? Surely when all this has passed, there will be no remaining animosity between us. Perhaps we could even become friends. But right now, I don't want to be friends. I'm pissed that Arah would be using this magic on me, on my mind. Revenge is all I want.

My teeth pierce her flesh, and the hallucinations wrought by my poisoned fangs begin to spread through her mind. I do not know the horror that she is living through, that she screams of. Her mind clearly plagued, she flails as she tries to get away from me - not from pain, but from fear of whatever nightmares she seems to be reliving. I almost feel sorry for the damsel, for her anguish that is painted clear as day on her face, in every movement of her body. Her struggle is real, that of a mother trying to protect her beloved children. I do not understand, I could never understand. I am neither mother or child, being too young for children and orphaned as an infant. I can only imagine, and what I imagine her picturing, based off her screams, I do not envy. Having done my dirty, reprehensible work, I slide my fangs from her body (after all, I am not intending to seriously wound her), and return to all four paws.

She's come out of the hallucinogenic state faster than I have anticipated. Fast enough that I don't have time to retreat, and find myself directly in harm's way. Up until this point, I have felt no fear. Only confidence, rage, and determination have coursed through my veins. But now, as I see the dangerous wrath burning in Arah's eyes, alarm starts to run through me instead. My breath catches, my ribs ache and I feel myself weak. My heart thrums in my chest, pumping madly, resounding in my ears. She rises up, her hooves flash in front of my face. I try to dash away, out of her reach, but I'm frozen in the moment. The rage had been all mine, but whatever she imagined, whatever she witnessed, has sent her over the edge. Her hooves come crashing down, but my attacks appear to have weakened her, just as hers have weakened mine. I manage only a step to the left away from her, so that instead of hitting my chest, she hits my right shoulder. I whine and grimace, and my right leg gives way, my shoulder dropping from the pressure.

I back away quickly, the freshly bruised limb awakening me from my fear-driven stupor. I can stand, I can move - and I'm so grateful for that - but I will definitely be resting for awhile after this. The throb from my ribs and now my shoulder addle my brain, leaving strategy at the bottom of the list of achievable feats. Angled away from her, I turn back, my left paw swinging wide and toward her beautiful face. I don't want to take her nose clean off, and even if I did, I wouldn't have the energy after Wynter's attack. I'd rather just leave her with some fresh clean cuts across the delicate velveteen muzzle, to see blood bead across thin stripes. She can boast about it later - how she took on the mighty tigress. My claws slice through the air, and I hope that I've made contact, before dropping down again.

I move back, panting, and hope that no more attacks shall come my way. Surely we've done each other enough harm? My injuries cut me to the quick, though I may appear in perfect health on the outside. I know it shall take awhile to recover from this squabble. I bow my head to her and her companion. "You have fought well, lady Arah." And for that, she has my due respect.

"Speech."

WC: 726
Attack: 3/3