Her hooves hit his flesh, and hard. The feeling of full contact sent a reeling burst of adrenaline through her. It was like his body had injected her with a high amount of drugs, but all of her side effects were good. Even as her side ached and moaned from Rhoa’s slam, the adrenaline did a perfect job of smothering it. The only thing left was the feeling that her heart had moved to that wound, and was pumping furiously. It was an oddly funny sensation, and she could not help but giggle as she spun back around. So with a joker grin, and the laugh of an angel, she lunged for his shoulder. Her teeth immediately clamped down upon his shoulder, the taste of his coat bringing her crazed mind into laser focus. She could not let mild victories deceive her; he was still more than capable of taking her down. However, he would not, could not, because he was replaced with the bodies of all the invaders. He wore the face of Ophelia, the body of Aaron, and the sickening betrayal of Ciceron. The Frankenstein body pulls away, her teeth releasing him from her grip. Again, his body begins to rise, and his hooves come lashing out.

At first, she’s shocked that he managed to get up there. Apparently, he had used her for his advantage; as a crutch to get up. A growl bubbled deep in her chest, and she pushed forward. Thunder cried overhead, drowning her cry as she lunged towards him. Her hooves slid, holding her there for a single moment. It was in that minimal fraction that the barred boy’s hooves came across the snowflake on her left shoulder. It drags from her withers across her shoulder and off the front part of her chest. In its wake, he left a raised, agitated line of bruised muscle. It pulsed heavily against the pressure of her muscles; this was a bruise that was going to hurt at every twitch of her shoulder. Yet, she was not upset. Instead, she began screaming, “Yes,” towards him, begging him to continue. Maybe he would be the one to tear this terrible birthmark from her shoulder. She didn’t need it anymore, and in fact; he could have all of her. If he wanted to scar her face so bad that even she couldn’t recognize herself, she would let him. Then she could be free from all of this, she could start over.

So she lunged toward him, this time finding her footing on a glob of grass and dirt that had been compressed beneath all of her spinning. Elsa hoped to run beneath him, and push him over. She wanted him to hit her, take out her face, and crack her spine. Come on Rhoa! She’s making this so easy for you! All you have to do is take the goddamn request! As if trying to push her request further, she tried to put a sheet of ice on the uneven, muddy terrain below Rhoa’s feet. If she could make him slip forward she could kill two birds with one stone; she could injure him and take injury herself. She could begin to feel all his attacks come to fruition as her rage died down, quickly being washed away in the rivulets of boggy ground. Her shoulder was screaming at her harsh movement forward, and her side felt as if it was being slowly pulled apart. Good, maybe then she could ruin herself all alone. Rhoa wouldn’t even be needed then. She could take the invader Frankenstein down, and herself, all at once. That way, she could die with the glory of knowing she had killed them all. They could never hurt her again.

"Talking"
[2/3 Attacks || 625 Words]

Elsa