The rattle of hoof against bone, a mocking of a lover's caress; Alan wasn't stroking this girl out of lust, but out of a desire to break her. She was a pretty creature, but too annoying to keep around, and it seemed like she wasn't inclined to stay either, as she pulled back. Alan's hoof whirled through the air a second time before it came down with a soft thud in the slush, and her amber eyes narrowed, glaring daggers at the flighty bitch. She came in here like she owned the place, and didn't have enough sense to take their five thousand and thirteen offers for leaving whole, yet she resisted capture. It was so moronic Alan wondered if her head was as empty as it seemed.

Alan was closing the distance again, when, yet again, something entirely unexplainable happened. A choked grunt was forced out of her windpipe as Sinuhe's raised knee collided with her throat, her white head high to balance her in a rear; a wheezing gasp slipped in through Alan's widened nostrils, her startled mind trying to grasp what had happened even as her well-honed instincts powered her on. Hadn't Sinuhe been coming in with her head the lowest point when Alan started to lunge towards her? Just how fast was the short asshole? With a breathless feeling, like a lid was lying across her windpipe where one, pale knee had battered against it, she shut her jaws.. on nothing. The damn creature had danced sideways and Alan was, again, left with nothing, like some incompetent moron stumbling through their first spar. Spitting in frustration, and trying to breathe deeply to clear her clouded head, Alan became very aware of one thing: a fiery sting going down her left shoulder. Instincts snapped her haunches right, and the now red-tipped horn slid off the curve of her barrel before it could go deeper, but too many emotions were rolling around in her head. Shock, that this imbecile had managed to steal her blood. Hate, for being so useless after months of trailing Seiren around. And a deeply rooted desire for revenge, even as Sinuhe's limb came flailing up in the air, hitting nothing as it was too far away to strike Alan. She wouldn't have cared even if it had tangled with her own black limbs.

In some moment of clarity, maybe spurred by the sudden shiver up her spine, her gaze went to Deimos, even as her teeth were descending for a rough bite against the groove of Sinuhe's throat; she caught the trailing end of a crystal clear, frigidly cold azure stare, and it chilled her to the core. She'd never really known what Deimos could do, only that standing too close made you lethargic, but whatever the sudden clenching in her gut meant, she doubted it was anything invigorating. Even if she'd find flesh, she'd only clamp down briefly before letting go and throwing her head left, spinning on her haunches, trying to force her right shoulder in front of Sinuhe's face and barge forward; given her taller stature, and the force of the push even in spite of the loose ground, she doubted Sinuhe had anything to put against it.. unless her neck, too, was made of unbending titanium. Praying that something in this mess would make sense Alan shoved, ready to skitter sideways should her faith be misplaced, intending to clear Sinuhe's body at any cost: she could feel the silent hiss of Deimos' extending magic nipping at her haunches, a lethargy almost like a sinister song in the back of her head...

She had to do something - the sharp sting of her shoulder demanded it. She couldn't just.. skitter off, and hope Deimos caught Sinuhe too; she was still too pissed off, even though her system was in some state of shock at her own profound lousiness. Digging her hooves into the slush, hopefully about a step-and-a-half to the right of Sinuhe, Alan extended her long hind legs in a kick, cramming as much power as she possibly could into it and aiming for Sinuhe's barrel and shoulder. Dream scenario was that she'd fall over screaming and be reduced to a limp fish by Deimos, but Alan had given up dreaming a few years ago; stalling her for a moment, to keep her in range, was a more realistic hope.

Unless something hindered her, the moment her feet would touch back down again she'd stagger forward, eager to get out of range of Deimos soul-sucking powers. It felt like having something cold and clammy creep up through her body, and it was not a pleasant sensation.

[ 4/4 :: 777 words. ]