Her words are insane, the ramblings of a madwoman; how can he not have seen this coming? How could she have fooled him so easily? Unfortunately for him, Volterra already knows the answer to that question, but he cannot bring himself to acknowledge it - when he comes to women, he is a fool. He saw what he wanted to see. He saw the beautiful, curvaceous mare with ideals that fell into line with his own, saw the first addition to his harem, the strong wife to stand by his side as he mounted the world. He chose not to see the signs - her talking about the killing of weak children in her homeland, the unexplained bruises on Vezér's body, the smile that never quite reached her eyes.

That's the truth of it - he is as culpable in his daughter's murder as Airlia is through virtue of his ability to turn the other cheek to things he doesn't want to see. That's why this sheer hatred is bubbling through him like a waterfall of molten sewerage; because it's not just her he loathes, it's himself.

"HOW COULD YOU?" he roars, even though she's already told him, even though she's already made it clear that she did it because of his other woman and because she could. He slams into her, barging her onto the ground, but before he can take advantage of her fallen position (because there's no notion of honour or chivalry inside him now; he will do anything and everything it takes to destroy her), she's sprung back to her feet, just in time to receive the scorching heat of Vadir's flames. The reek of burning flesh offers no satisfaction to the titan; he's gone too far beyond that now.

"She was our daughter," comes the stallion's voice again; as deep as ever but tinged with anguish, with distress, with boiling loathing. "You carried her inside you. You should have been willing to put your life on the line for her, do anything for her, but you killed her." Saying it out loud only makes it more real, but before he can continue, she's lunging at him. Her jaws collide with his left side towards his underbelly, creating a small bruise that aches against the steaming mass of his flesh, but he hardly notices.

"You stole her life. Now I end yours."

He lunges forwards again, this time aiming for her scorched left side. He seeks to slam his chest into the damaged area, launching his mammoth head forwards to try and pepper it with bites and further the damage. As much as he wants to go in for the kill straight away, he knows he must wear her down first, weaken her; that sick little part of his mind, the part where his love for his daughter used to live, urges him to prolong the process, to make her suffer for her sins. The rest of him agrees.

A cacophony of shrieks rings out as Vérzés and Vadir swoop in unison, their glorious bodies plummeting from the sky in perfect tandem. Under any other circumstance Volterra would marvel at his companions fighting together for him for the very first time, but he cannot; he only cares that they do their job properly. Vérzés aims for the mare's face, seeking to slam his whole body into it whilst his clawed forepaws try to slash at her eyes. Vadir swoops low, sending another raking blast of flame this time towards the mare's hindlegs in the hope of disabling them and allowing her bonded to bring his prey down.

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@Airlia

2/? - 601 words