For a moment it seemed that the climax of the battle had possibly come and gone. The rising action had stopped rising, or so it seemed for Volterra and Isopia. With the introduction of the bronze, red, and gold dragons, the emphasis had seemingly come away from the equines, from Isopia's (un)righteous anger, and the topic of the pair's unborn child. It was now a fight among dragons, though one which was quickly coming to an end.

Due to the stunted nature of Isopia's emotional development, her emotional stamina was equally stunted, and already the rage that had blossomed brightly in her chest was beginning to wane as Volterra failed to attack her. She simultaneously wanted him to meet her challenging gaze and actions with his own, and was also repulsed by the idea of his flesh ever touching hers again (hence why her first attack was a ranged one). And yet part of her just wanted to shrug the entire thing off. To turn away from the monochromatic manwhore and leave with her cousin.

The attractiveness of the idea was so compelling, that the demigoddess was in the process of turning away, when heat suddenly seared across her thoughts and skin. As Vadir and Hubris' bodies landed before her, it was Isopia's forelegs that received the brunt of Vadir's fiery blast. Isopia tried to rear above the fire, but of course the searing heat had already worked its way into her skin and against her bones (or so it felt). Though ridiculous, the earthen girl thought that she could actually feel her skin stretching away from the heat, and her maroon and cream hair fusing together to form a hardened and painful shell. Isopia's mouth opened to emit a cry of pain, which was amplified as the gaping wound on her cheek seemingly doubled its efforts to cause her pain. Isopia didn't have time to curse herself for her decision to rear, for despite the pain that warbled anew through her scalded legs as she landed upon them, it seemed that Volterra finally was going to attack her. 

A wall of earth rose in her direction (or so she thought). Knowing that scrambling anywhere on her wounded legs would result in a drastically reduced getaway, Isopia's mind defaulted back to the first attack she had made, and repeated it. Another helping of earth near Volterra suddenly rose. It was directed roughly in the same place as it had been before, and thrown with the same haphazard aim. If nothing else, the meager part of Isopia's mind that dallied in tactical decisions thought that it might distract Volterra enough that his concentration might be lost, and his earth-missile wouldn't find its target. 

Perhaps that explained why the mound Isopia had thought was meant for her, suddenly struck Vadir hard enough to send the golden creature flailing on the ground. 

Both Hubris and Isopia's mouths opened in shock as the dragon queen screeched her outrage, however that is where the similarity in their reactions ended. Hubris stayed where he was, despite the queen's enthusiastic and repeated attempts to maim him. He whistled a low note of concern as he remained on the ground by her, trying to remove clods of earth from her wounded body. However as Volterra hobbled closer, Isopia withdrew several steps. Her nostrils flared wildly, and her golden eyes glared at him behind a mask of clotting blood and drooping skin.

Taking the brief reprieve afforded by Volterra's concern for Vadir, Isopia called upon her magic once more. This time however, it was directed upon herself. A vaguely dragon-shaped mass of water suddenly appeared before her and then slammed into her forelegs. Water splashed down the Mountain's newly-burned skin simultaneously soothing and sending a fresh spike of pain into her mind.

"Do you hurt everyone you love so easily?" She spat, tasting blood and exhaustion on her lips. Perhaps she was more tired than she gave herself credit for, since her vastly academic mind didn't even realize the implication of what she had said. Subconsciously, she clearly meant to include herself in both the category of things Volterra had hurt and the things that he had loved, but never would she have entertained the idea of speaking that outloud. For that would be to invite him to wound her again, and to explicitly say once and for all that which she already knew: that she was nothing to him. Her words betrayed her; a cry of hope coating the words she meant to wound him with.

But emotional and physical exhaustion blinded her to this blunder, and the Mountain that (didn't) Know was content to continue to glare at Volterra as he tended to his dragon.