illynx,

The golden bitch feels the mare’s white teeth graze the golden length of her right stifle, but she does not care despite the strangely numb pain that tingles along behind the obscure pressure of incisors; her mind cries hopefully that it knocks her damn pearly whites out. She does care, however, when they manage to tap lightly on the already bruised and beginning to swell angle of her knee. A growling yelp of sorts escapes her lips as she completes her forward motion, the wounded leg instinctively tucked nearer her body than the left one, which is angled at a dangerous point and supported by her well muscled shoulders.

It will do the job plenty well enough, she assumes.

The sickening sound of mud clinging to the body of the pegasus as she vainly rolls about in the wet earth is almost pleasing, the wicked damsel’s laughter at the squirming mass beneath her cold and compassionless as it barks out in the deluge. More pleasing than the fact that the mud streaked turkey still struggled to escape was the eventual impact, the delightful noise of bones crushing beneath dirty hooves filling Illynx’s ears with the music that had fueled every vicious act in her life.

Her left hoof has done the breaking, her weight pressed down on that single point; the same location is used for her to push off of, spinning away from the fallen pegasus in a quarter rear towards the right and away from the pale paint’s fallen body that is aided in fluidity by the water and earth that have blended in the turmoil of their hooves.

She prances about the flailing legs, her smile sickening and ever so delighted with what she has done.

Lowering her blood soaked features towards the wing still exposed to the sky, she nimbly reaches out with her lips to pluck a blue feather, one of the long ones that extend on the ends of the grotesque appendages. ”Why? softly asks the fallen skyrat, and she turns her golden eyes coldly to watch the weakling’s head slump back down into the mud.

”To prove that I am strong,” she says savagely to dead ears, grasping her feather of choice and wrenching it free of it’s fleshy holds. Blood, the same red ambrosia that covers her horn and face, leaking down into her eyes, a single crimson droplet, rises from the end of the thing as she turns to return to the mountain.

And with such a smug smile on her pretty little face.

[ OOC: Essentially, she's heading home in the rain with her new shiny ~~ Hope it's fine I duplicated the post! I can modify more onto it if need be. ]

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

Pain was throbbing wickedly trough her body, much like poison as her teeth met the mare's leg. Triumph pounds through her veins as the gold trimmed attacker makes a sound of pain, and blood spurts from the bight she just made. Parelia's triumph was short lived though, as she roars with laughter before the sickening blinding pain of her broken ribs.

Something in Parelia gives up admits defeat, maybe it was the small part of her that wanted her to embrace the blackness that had tried to swallow her. But her name sake spirit kept her griping onto conciseness pain and fear pulling as hard as they could to take her down. As the mare launches off of her broke ribs, Parelia can't help let out a pain filled squeal. Sucking air through her pearly teeth tears fill her once bright eyes. Anger and pain fight for the dominant position in her mind as her blood slowly mixes with the sticky mud below her broken body.

The cremello paint catches sight of her attackers sick happy smile and her stomach lurches dangerously. As the bitches'head lowers towards herself she tries to move, but it's all in vain, her lithe body had sunk into the mud making movement on her own next to impossible. The mare's teeth gingerly, but firmly click closed on her beloved teal feather. 'No! Not my wings!' She thinks desperately trying to flap her one uninjured appendage. The slight movement she manages sends blinding searing pain coursing through her broken ribs, as well as her damaged left wing.

Her movement stops intently and she waits for what may come. As her teal feather is plucked, like a flower from it's steam, anguish strikes her heart. A pathetic whimper seeps from her darker lips. It had hurt but it was more her pride that was hurt than anything.

"Because you're strong? The strong to not have to ambush... The strong..." Her raspy voice fades as the sky seems to be crying on her. If she was more alive to the world she would have noticed the clouds thinning and the sun slowly eating away at the black clouds. 'I'm going to die here, alone in the mud.' Her thought whisper softly in her head as she lay there with her eyes closed the rain slowly dying, much like she imagined herself to be.
Walking "Talking" 'Thoughts'
Words:398
OOC:; @[Brisa] @[Miykael][

Parelia