This clearly wasn't his day. Lace had no idea what it was but no matter what he did it seemed that the fucking bastard managed to slip away. There was nothing wrong with his tactics, he executed every move without hitch - well, almost - and yet the only trace of his anger upon that ivory hide was a thin trickle of blood, barely visible in the gathering dusk. What difference did that make? How was that sufficient payment for all the pain, suffering and hatred this white devil had caused them all?
Frustration burned in his throat. The slender stallion hissed and shoved himself away from the tree, biting back a groan as the wound in his stomach stabbed in sickening, white hot pain. He had to move, couldn't stand there like a duck on open water...
... and even as he dragged himself forward a bright, red-lined light exploded from the chest of the King. He saw the fire bird but could do nothing, saw it fly towards him and heaved desperately, painstakingly forward, felt the foul stench of burning hair permeate the air as it collided with his left flank.
Well, that ought to cauterize the wound at least, he reflected in a stray, mad fit of dry humor.
And then the pain set in. Lace had been burned before, more times than he wanted to recount. By Fajira when she was in a bad mood, by the gods when they'd been in a bad mood, in battle and by scalding, sizzling blood from a green monster. It was not the kind of sensation you ever got used to. The scalding, burning, itching feeling as hair was seared away, the bubbling and oozing as the skin began to bubble and melt, the maddening, nauseating smell of burned flesh and reminded him that it was him that was on fire.
He screamed, and in the distance a dragon echoed his pain with her own blood-curdling screech. It promised vengeance, fire and death upon the one who dared block their path. Fajira made a sudden turn in the air and set off as fast as she could towards the battleground; she abandoned her game of I spy with the owls, hoped to leave them behind to rot as she hurried towards her Silverthorn.
As consciousness threatened to leave him the grullo sank down to his knees and vaulted into the dirty, trampled snow on the ground. The cold grain against his oozing flesh was almost more than he could endure, he made himself ridiculously vulnerable to the charging stallion who thundered up towards him, but Lace couldn't care less just then. At least the fire was disappearing, leaving him with its horrendous aftermath - and not even the knowledge that he would heal without a scar was any comfort this time.
He felt the fury of the Frost-hearted beast draw nearer, felt the earth tremble beneath his hooves as he gathered and reared. Just then Lace rolled over on the other side, and barely keeping it together he managed to avoid the supposedly crippling blow with inches to spare.
Unconcerned about keeping up appearances he sobbed in mindless pain as instinct drove him back up on his feet. The knees were trembling, chest heaving, his vision came and went in a pulsating, over-bright manner that made him dizzy. He staggered as he tried to withdraw from his opponent, feeling Mauja's presence crawl up his spine for every sluggish, feeble step.
But he was not defenseless. He was not alone.
The barren canopy above exploded in a fury of raging white scales. In one, fell swoop Fajira descended, fire blazing in her jaws as she unleashed her inborn powers upon Mauja. Once before she had burned him, and now she would do it again. This time she hoped it would be fatal, crippling, so that he could never do harm to another again in his life.
She didn't hate him for what he had done to Kiba. The dead are dead and won't come back. No, the dragon hated the horned one for the pain he caused, for the dark clouds his existence gathered in the mind of her beloved.
He was a plague, and she would do what she could to purify these moon-touched lands from his taint.
WC: 715
PC: 3/4
Summary; Takes the burning swan to his left flank. Gets down in the snow to put out the fire. When Mauja rears he rolls over to the other side to avoid being trampled and gets up on his feet, trying to move away. Fajira returns and swoops down on Mauja, trying to burn him with her fire breath.
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[LACE CHALLENGE] the Queen of Peace
