illynx,

It was fun to the wench, to writhe and wriggle in the throes of the most carnal form of dance known to her kind, though it still had not bled amusement upon her face; contorted, ugly, her features were sharp with concentration, no room in her heart for error in this fight. It was merely a practice session, not a true battle by any means, but never had a fight been so important to her. Even her virgin appearance as Lady of the Aurora Basin in the invasion upon the Edge had meant so much to golden laced mare, and her intent was writ across every inch of her slender frame. This man had not only been her senior among the ranks of warriors within their nefarious fold, but he had since then made himself a gleaming target on her field of vision, an impostor among the line of kings that had led their grand people. She would hold her tongue, to be assured, for the devil was apparently not the sort to hear words - more narrow minded than even herself, she found that every encounter she had held with the ebony bastard had left her with a sour taste in her mouth.

This experience with the Gilded Blade would return the element of unhappiness that he had sundered her with.

Her horn waved uselessly in the air like a maestro's baton as her upper shoulder sent his obsidian jaws clicking back together, the bruise formed upon the flesh from the impact flaring brightly as the throbs in her upper nape from where his teeth had met her flesh only moments before. Glee filled her at the sensation despite the lull of pain pressing in upon her, widening her temporary and baleful grin at the simple idea of the assault as her hooves struck true upon his muscular left thigh. She hoped it ripped the velvet hair from his skin, but such observations would have to wait - it would seem the Reaper had lost his control somewhere in between the clack of his enamels and the impact of her hind legs.

A ripple crossed the air and raised her curiosities, the bitch chancing a quick glance at the deep azure gaze of the stallion to find that it was devoid of what minute flickers of life had existed within them before. Ribs aching from the excursion of the cow kick, she couldn't manage to scuttle to the side fast enough despite her displeasure for the blatant sin that he was about to commit upon her. Her golden eyes blazed and narrowed, the pace of the unicorn duo's symphony suddenly catastrophically fast as the throbbing of her heart against her chest. The few seconds it took for the sapphire emblazoned horn to reach her flesh felt like an eternity in slow motion, and what struck her was even worse than the foreboding.

Vainly (she assumed) casting her own golden namesake to the side in hopes of gouging those hideously devoid eyes before he could touch her with his sinful rapier, the cries of her injured nape a faint noise to the true sound of horror that broke from her lips as she felt her already injured right side die at the cold, slithering touch. It was a sound of outrage, of agony, and she funneled all of her temporary terror and now full blown hate into the noise as it rose through the early morning, burning the pink tinged sky with it's atrocious lilt.

Crawling aside as the sensation rippled through her brain stem, golden legs dragging languorously through the heavy emerald grasses of her home even as she felt the limbs on her right side lose their ability to hold her weight. Dropping to her knees to avoid the embarrassment of completely collapsing, she feels the shudders rack her body; more painful than the talons of the dragon, the pain of finding her family broken and bloody on the late spring floor of the Edge, or the loss of her savior the Empress, Illynx raises her proud and watery eyes through the putrid agony to glare wickedly at the beast even while grasped in the throes of his disgusting lack of self control.

Mother fucking contemptible wretch, her brain gasped through the sensations seemingly shredding her to pieces, hoping it bled through the agonized disfigurements of her features and to her eyes that bore into his face, that he saw retribution written clearly in their metallic gleam.

[ 3/3 ; 761 ]

intending to burn - pretending to fight it
everyone learns faster on fire