Why should she be pleased? She shouldn't. As Elsa comes down to the ground instead of slamming into me, I can only IMAGINE her fury. I've evaded her attack and she's in the perfectly proximity for a sharp bite from me. Except that I don't have to imagine for long as she emits a strangled cry of rage, and a 'fuck you' passes those beautiful, delicate lips. Damaris yelps again, trying to warn me of the danger that I fail to see from above. Elsa's companion - still unnamed to me - dive bombs me from the sky. The zephyr surely empathizes with his bonded and wishes me no shortage of arm. My companion's warning is too late, and the claws of the winged creature slice against my left ear, narrowly missing the horns that otherwise protect my skull. I growl in pain but continue forward in my attack, hurting but undeterred. I think that perhaps I shall bite a bit harder, if I can, in retaliation for the blood that dribbles down my dark ear.

She turns her head to snap at me, but I dodge her teeth, twisting my head to the side so that her ivories snap just next to my cheek. When her delicate crown turns forward again my teeth make contact, biting hard on her pale skin. 'It's not personal, I swear.' More or less.... but isn't it a bit of a lie? After all, I did just try to bite her harder because of her companion. That does suggest that this IS personal. No more thoughts are given to the matter, and I put my attention toward removing myself from her range of attack, at least as best I can. But she's quick like a snake and despite the pain I might've (must've) inflicted, she turns to catch me as I leave.

My flints carve into the ground below as I try to back pedal, hoping to avoid her. My pale eyes watch in growing anxiety as Elsa turns and rises up again on her hind feet, her front hooves coming down hard and fast at my face. I squeal: the only reaction I can get out before her icy hooves meet my soft, warm flesh. Her hoof catches my right cheek, slicing a layer of skin from it, and her knees knock me away with a very, very sore jaw. I fall to the left, a shout of agony piercing the air. Who is that, screaming like a little girl? Oh.... it's me.

It takes a moment for me to brace myself, and I feel tears prick in my eyes from the searing pain of exposed flesh on my cheek. For certain, it will be come a new scar. I snap my head toward her, eyes narrowing at her snowy form. Now. Now I'm mad. I feel Damaris's mutual rage and pain surge along with mine. I have one more thing that she has yet to see. One more tool off my workbench that I have yet to utilize. I plant my hooves firm in the turf and take a deep breath as I focus all my energy into the ground. A familiar feeling rises inside me, one of strength and power that make every ounce of my being into.. a super power. The ground cracking, rumbling, creaking, crumbling - sod and rock rise from the soft, summer ground and into the air the height of my withers. With a roar of fury and determination, I send the weapons of the Earth at Elsa. Anger inside fuels my attack, anger that the mason has wounded me so, and that my pride might possibly suffer as great a wound at the end of all this.

618 words
@[Elsa]
Attack 3/3

Rostislav

more than a drunken fool