Crimson sand clings to the legs which were still healing from burns, looking like blood on the sore flesh.
Crimson sand breathed in like rust into lungs aching from worry.
Crimson sand obscuring the view of beautifully clear, blue eyes.

Then, she heard rather than saw the shadow looming in the distance, his massive hooves resounding even in the sandy terrain. If not for the imposing size of this fellow, the desert landscape might have all but hidden his approach. Lyhty saw him first. Small, beady red eyes widening with little understanding. If not for the beating of war drums in the heart of his companion, his beloved friend, the small bird might not have understood the murderous grimace engraved on the face of the large demon in the night. Flashes of battle scenes, training, hooves clipping against her figure, the sound of teeth clattering with air.

The hidden side of the peaceful, modest shaman revealed at last with painstaking detail. The songbird finally understands who Voltaic is to Onni. One small tear rolls down her face as a flash of brilliant yellow and black runs through her mind, even as the small feathered bird yells a warning sign to the mare before leaping easily into the air on smaller wings, a birds-eye view. YOUR LEFT! he roars in their shared mind, Onni's head does not even turn to question her friend's warning. Instead, with practice skill, the small tobiano moves weight agilely unto her haunches, front end tossing itself toward the right, wounded forelegs screaming in protest as they meet with a soft plume of dirt that belied the force behind her body.

I will not hand it over, she thinks. Not after he died for our safety here.

The many daggers meant to spear the winged prey do not collide with a wing joint or shoulder, but instead Onni answers his challenge with a swift kick, aiming for the broad, heavily muscled left side of this unknown enemy's chest or the thick shoulder as he swings his head violently near her side. With any luck, the fast pivot will have allowed for his body within range of her thick hooves. Unfortunately, the stillness of the kick allows her rump to fall within the grasp of the long, awful claws, brandished from his skull with merciless force. The longest of the horns catches her left hip, slicing open a gash thick and purposeful, following through with the arch of her movement, the red flow of her blood painting over the bay figure. Pain washes over with shocking force. For a fleeting moment, the shaman wants to stop.

Above her, Onni is vaguely aware of the surprised shriek of Lyhty. Instead of halting, she swallows the lump which had grown in her throat, hind legs landing back upon the earth and she pushes forward, using speed which is an ally against such a bulky opponent, wings held out to catch the winds as she races, lifting herself up into the air with a forceful shove of from sturdy back legs, flapping to capture some small altitude with such a thin distance before take off. Then, her left wing tilts to the earth, stocky body entering a tight curve as she tosses herself back toward the area where her opponent was last felt, rather than seen, scouring the dark horizon for his figure.

In the chasms of a dual mind, a phrase is repeated fiercely: I will not surrender.

"For Voltaic," she growls under her breath, maneuvering herself about in the air to try and come toward the left side of the rust colored brute. Her front legs extend like violent knives that mimic those upon his brow, driving forward with increasing momentum as she tears the air with forceful beats. Wings slide in close to her figure should she draw near, not wanting them to be brutalized by searching swords in the dark, while still allowing for a graceful swooping motion. The aim of her posed front hooves? She aimed for the flank, slightly adjacent and below the hip joint, where she knew the body was not protected by strong ribs.

While Onni did not wish to kill any foe, this one would not be getting away lightly for trying to rob this precious home, the home of the Lord of Light, the final resting place of her beloved mentor. He would pay for the sins he committed against her heart.
Vibrant, kind, lovely, but, after all, she is still the daughter of the Resolute.
Would you believe it now?

[ WC: 772; 1/4; 0/2; Onni is using buffs SWIFT and BULK. ]