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09-26-2016, 12:51 AM
Icebound’s scream freezes the rage that pulsed in his veins. Her terror drew him towards her; long, exhausted, injured limbs limping slightly as he tried to close the distance their now-equally-defensive tactics had put between them. His gaze grew cold, no longer burning with the anger that the Thicket’s words and Elsa’s accusations had lighting in him.
Edgar’s screech called to the small, charging elephant matriarch, though it had as much effect on her as Tembovu’s mental commands for her to halt her charge. Though, luckily for all parties involved, Elsa’s backwards movements made Mbwene’s charge miss the Queen. And her angry trumpet and abrupt pivot were both cut short as she ran—SMACK!— into the ice wall Elsa had thrown up in front of her.
Tembovu, however, was not as lucky in avoiding Elsa’s companion’s attack. His attention had so wholly been focused on Elsa after her scream (he did not even blink away the blood that dribbled into his eye), that he did not see the zephyr’s silent descent. And it was too late that the hiss of ice as it suddenly streamed so close to his flank jerked his ears and attention to the flap of wings that was so close to his barrel.
The King snorted—though it quickly morphed to a shouted groan as Edgar’s magic brushed over the right side of his manhood, before freeze burning the inside of his right thigh. He instinctively lifted up in a rear, forelimbs striking out—though it was a blinded attack for the immediate agony stole his vision.
“Tembovu! Mbwene! Stop!”
An eerie silence fell between the two monarchs, even as the inferno roared beside them. His hide, darkened to a deep brown with seat, had begun to drip onto the drying earth around them. His face was a mess of dirt, ash, and blood; the sweat causing all three to meld together, while dark blue eyes started at Elsa’s blurred form through her defensive ice wall.
He addressed those that had remained ( “Take care of the fire. Warn others who were not here of the flames so that no more harm will come from these thorns.”), but his attention was focused on his Queen. Pain pulsed from his groin, every powerful pound of his heart bringing more blood to the inflamed, sensitive tissues. His breaths came out as soft groans, but he desperately tried to ignore it.
“Elsa, I—“ the words were a deep, low croak. He stopped, cleared his throat, and then continued, “I am sorry. Please, take down your wall.” His voice was so hoarse that he wasn’t sure if she could even hear him. His head hung level with his withers, exhaustion settling in as the pain joined it to steal his stoicism. His right leg cocked, toe hovering in the ashy, torn soil as his flank twitched with the pain of Edgar’s freeze burns.
Mbwene’s annoyed trumpet was strangled to silence by a single, overpowering, unquestionable demand from the King: ’Silence.’ The glare he receive was one that promised she would never forget this day.
Edgar’s screech called to the small, charging elephant matriarch, though it had as much effect on her as Tembovu’s mental commands for her to halt her charge. Though, luckily for all parties involved, Elsa’s backwards movements made Mbwene’s charge miss the Queen. And her angry trumpet and abrupt pivot were both cut short as she ran—SMACK!— into the ice wall Elsa had thrown up in front of her.
Tembovu, however, was not as lucky in avoiding Elsa’s companion’s attack. His attention had so wholly been focused on Elsa after her scream (he did not even blink away the blood that dribbled into his eye), that he did not see the zephyr’s silent descent. And it was too late that the hiss of ice as it suddenly streamed so close to his flank jerked his ears and attention to the flap of wings that was so close to his barrel.
The King snorted—though it quickly morphed to a shouted groan as Edgar’s magic brushed over the right side of his manhood, before freeze burning the inside of his right thigh. He instinctively lifted up in a rear, forelimbs striking out—though it was a blinded attack for the immediate agony stole his vision.
“Tembovu! Mbwene! Stop!”
An eerie silence fell between the two monarchs, even as the inferno roared beside them. His hide, darkened to a deep brown with seat, had begun to drip onto the drying earth around them. His face was a mess of dirt, ash, and blood; the sweat causing all three to meld together, while dark blue eyes started at Elsa’s blurred form through her defensive ice wall.
He addressed those that had remained ( “Take care of the fire. Warn others who were not here of the flames so that no more harm will come from these thorns.”), but his attention was focused on his Queen. Pain pulsed from his groin, every powerful pound of his heart bringing more blood to the inflamed, sensitive tissues. His breaths came out as soft groans, but he desperately tried to ignore it.
“Elsa, I—“ the words were a deep, low croak. He stopped, cleared his throat, and then continued, “I am sorry. Please, take down your wall.” His voice was so hoarse that he wasn’t sure if she could even hear him. His head hung level with his withers, exhaustion settling in as the pain joined it to steal his stoicism. His right leg cocked, toe hovering in the ashy, torn soil as his flank twitched with the pain of Edgar’s freeze burns.
Mbwene’s annoyed trumpet was strangled to silence by a single, overpowering, unquestionable demand from the King: ’Silence.’ The glare he receive was one that promised she would never forget this day.
Fire & Ice
@Elsa :[
Please tag Tembovu.
