Look like the innocent flower,
But be the serpent under it.

The battlefield was a thunderous din, and if she’d been allotted time and space to delve into the facets of this evil, wicked bedlam, she would have been frozen, rooted to the spot, disgraced by her own actions. But she too was engrossed, absorbed, and buried within the walls of the Edge’s cacophony, war cries, and emblems. Sanctuary and tranquility had been forgotten, thrown to the chorus of villains assembled amongst their darkening hallways and parlors. She neglected her presentiments, the forbidding, foreboding shades that hovered over her eyes and whispered of her cruel, damning exploits. Alas, in the heady throng, she contorted and clung to the armaments, the sieges, and the violence just as much as her other brethren, defending what was threatened, simmering and boiling along her corrupted blood.

The quick, bestial intensity caught her off guard for one fragile moment, and she paid for it as an ebon and ivory mare, RISHIMA, rammed into her already injured left shoulder. She fumbled for the ground, knees claiming a portion of soot, dust and ash while her eyes blurred, the pain an overwhelming bounty of lacerations and contusions. She ducked to avoid the mare’s gnashing teeth, felt the dentals grant more aching portions to her nape. Lena’s mouth offered a shaky breath, the exhalation quivering and quavering from her lungs, AZZUEN’S mass, legs akimbo and swinging, was missed entirely – her form was too busy toiling in the eaves of soil. And despite the throbbing, the stinging, and the cumbersome, heavy torture, she rose again. The time for weakness was over. She would persevere, overcome and ruin.

Her body uncurled and unfurled from the expanse of land toiling beneath her limbs, sinuous and serpentine. Adapting her own savage severity, her gaze landed upon the rearing body of RISHIMA, threatening to tower over her, intimidate her, brandish her a weakened, perishable youth, lost to the wreckage of flesh and terrain. Fueled by a distant heartlessness, Lena swung her horn towards RISHIMA’S exposed belly, ducking to avoid striking forelimbs. She swerved away soon after, but didn’t allot herself enough time to keep away from RISHIMA’S turning hind limbs. She felt the force, the gasp, the slight bruising idle her left haunch, but gave chase towards the other mare. Subdue, torment, and terrorize a creature that had been born from such an existence? Nay – the lithe, nimble Lena, once a swan and now a beast, drove against the terrain, aiming to use her sword again, thrusting it along the right side of RISHIMA’S lower neck and chest. Harassment wouldn’t swing her newfound, callous ardor; only the victory of their herd could render the mercilessness torn and asunder.

[444 words. RISHIMA’S attacks pummel dear Lena – first, she is rammed into her already cut left shoulder. She goes down to her knees, barely ducking the scrape of RISHIMA’S teeth, but still manages to feel them slide against her neck. Luckily, this causes her to avoid AZZUEN’S attack as he flies overhead. She gets back up, and while RISHIMA rears, Lena aims to cut her exposed belly. RISHIMA’S kicking hind legs graze Lena’s left haunch. In return, Lena uses her horn again to thrust against RISHIMA’S right hand side of her lower neck and chest.]