Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. You have to constantly remind yourself to take in oxygen, to open your lungs, to let your ribs strain against your wounded sides, to exhale and let the carbon dioxide go. Even breathing is a chore when you're in a battle. It's a little unfair you have to devote brainpower to inhaling when you could be conjuring exciting new ways to torture the Blue into submission. Regardless, it seems as though Ampere has a mind to keep you from breathing anyway. The pure shock that comes from the sound of her scream stops your breath in its tracks. You have to admit you're growing more tired of her drama by the moment. Someone needs to tell the damn woman to shut up. Too bad you've thoroughly underestimated the girl's penchant for revenge. Oxy, meet a freight train.

It's funny how little time there is to think in a battle. It's even funnier how much time there is to think once you're falling. Honestly, you're not entirely sure what just happened. You reared, narrowly avoiding a bite from angry teeth that seemed to have forgotten their last swampy meal. Your hooves even hit flesh, a nice prize in the chaos. And then... well, it seems like something went majorly wrong because you're falling back to the ground and it's a rather uncomfortable feeling.

The Blue had smashed into you, her body once again molesting the endlessly sore burn wounds that cover far too much of you. It hurt. It still hurts. Your flesh protests at the reminder that it's torn open, protests that it should be beaten twice in the same location, protests that you have started such a vindictive fight. Will your body ever forgive you for the burns and bruises you've forced upon it? Doubtful. And for what? For the orb? You don't want the orb. You want Ampere to suffer. You want her to cringe and cry herself to sleep at night knowing that she failed. You want her to see you across a field and come alive in flashes of hateful blue sparks. You want nothing more than to know she's endured the pain of loss at your hooves. You want to get even.

And of the electric dragon? Perhaps you're lucky the Blue decided to barrel into you while you have an injured limb. Falling so awkwardly back to the earth, the girl's newest electric creation flies over your head, off to somewhere unknown, and you can only hope it doesn't turn back to reclaim its pound of flesh. Now, since you've apparently got all the time in the world to tumble down, you spend some of your time panicking. The whites of your eyes show wider than ever, all four hooves flailing at the air and ground (and perhaps catching Ampere if she is still close enough). You even have time for a comparatively mild scream of frustration before your body finally makes contact with the ground.

Dirt grinds into your wounds, making you bellow in anger a second time as new pain floods into your brain, forcing you to forget everything except making it through this moment. But even the ripping of flesh and introduction of earth into your open tissue does not last forever. The bruise and new bleeding you've managed to get from falling will last longer but it's nothing you won't be able to make it through. Your only salvation is a flash of blue that you think you see out of the corner of your eye, dragging you back to reality. You flail again, both hooves and head thrashing to as many places as you can manage to reach while still laying on your right side. It isn't really a good idea. It certainly grinds more dirt into your wounds, but you're so flustered by falling that you're actually a little confused about what to do.

Soon enough, though, you manage to find a piece of your brain. You end your thrashing spell and instead force your limbs to do something more useful. Rolling your large body up on top of them, you shove yourself upwards, clearly favoring your right hind limb as you finally make it back to standing. It must have gotten further damaged in the fall. You didn't notice it at the time. Taking a few deep breaths, you turn your head to try and find the only two things that remain on your mind- the orb and Ampere. And as you search, you wonder who will head home victorious. Will you snatch the thing from her hooves and carry it off into the sunset or will you be left behind in a cloud of dust, licking your wounds in a round of self-pity at your failure? It wouldn't be the first time.

Post| 4/4
WC| 799