Pain; it zipped through his nerves like a frenzied bird, reaching the thalamus in a burst of white light and sheer terror. Skin and cartilage rip, part, until they are two different pieces; the colt and the mare stumble apart, only a spray of blood between them. Then, eyes watch the necromancer with something akin to horror as she swallowed the flesh, and he felt stale breeze pass through the new hollow of his ear.
Run.
A gust of bronze wind swept into the ugly witch's face, biting and clawing viciously with all its might. The colt could only watch with wide blue eyes, wanting to do something, anything, to help his faithful friend.
Dei?
Run!
With a last reluctant gaze, he felt his limbs tremble into action, clumsily charging back into the direction where they had come. Air whistled through his ear, and he could feel pain, although it was not pain from his own nervous system.
Dei?
Runrunrunrunrrun!
Dei?
Ru--
Dei? Dei?
Slate eyes roll backward, straining backwards; he could only see the very same brave bronze being hurtled like a ragdoll into a nearby tree. There was a hollow in his mind, an ugly hole where a dragon should have been. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes, but he forced himself to keep running, for Dei, at least. Although his left ear throbbed uncontrollably, he could hear the terrible whirlwind of blood in his ear, his heart beating frantically. Morbidly, he wondered if it would leap out of his chest: would he end up like the bloated lily-bodies in this swamp?
Although rain began to fall, he could hear her voice, like the laugh of a harpy, and faster than he could ever expect, the witch came onto him, grey (he refused to call them silver; for his father's eyes were silver, kind and brave, and silver was too fine a color for her) eyes wide with sadistic glee. He balked out of panic, hooves slipping clumsily, his body almost falling into the mire. He was blinded, although those slate eyes searched desperately for his dragon, hoping for a warm flash of bronze, or a chortle in his mind.
None.
She crashed into him and he reeled backwards, the whites of his eyes flashing, sides heaving with exertion. When he regained balance, he was faced with her face: this horrible oblong thing. She could never be more beautiful than his mother, or Ktulu (whose eyes were red, but they were life-red), but he was mesmerized by the expression she wore, how whatever light penetrated the rain, there was a glint in those pale eyes.
Then, she sprang into action.
He tried desperately to escape, but her weight fell onto his body, causing him to stumble into the sickly grass of the safe-path. Hooves bit into his flesh and he let out a pathetic yelp, although that did not keep her from scouring his hide with her teeth like some predator.
Am I going to die?
Pain convulsed through his body, and he wanted to tell her to stop, but it would be futile, for her hooves met him again, and scraped the skin off his legs in jagged wounds. He flailed helplessly, wanting to distance her, but the hooves only came again, aimed towards his hocks. Eyes closed, the colt laid listless, hoping for the worst and dreaming of death.
A....are you al-allllright?
Eyes snapped open.
Dei was alive!
Ignoring the bite of pain that danced through his body, the colt jerked his legs from harm's way, although Histe's toe managed to smash against his joint. Grimacing with pain, and through some act of divine intervention, he managed to wriggle from her weakening grasp. Galloping wildly towards the source of Dei's voice, he could feel the necromancer hot on his trail. Jackal pushed harder, summoning all the strength he had left (admittedly- very little).
A bronze thing met him, rising from the body of a dead filly, tattered and bruised, but nevertheless whole and alive. Breathless with joy and fear, the pair continued on, unaware that Histe had stopped dead.
[ignore how terrible this is :| I need to look over it later]
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