Blood filling his mouth, staining those ivories a ruby red. Oh it was so metallic and tasted so good. He drank as much as time would allow, his teeth deep in the flesh of his king. To hell with order, with ranks, with elders and wisdom. This was the heat of battle, the moments when the heart pounded the blood quickened the muscles strained. Silk was losing this battle but his fight was not gone. The ache in his muscles the blood running down his neck and over his side only increased his desire to battle, to win. Of course, these were all the things going on in his mind, in his heart and soul. The reality was that his body was taking a beating. But his confidence was boosted by his successful attack, and the sand in Midas's face, Silk's teeth in the king's flank - it was enough to keep the bat-winged brute going.

The painted pegasus's squeal pierced the air and hurt Silk's ears. Wings were outspread, and a tail was flying against Silk's face. He squealed himself and let go of the flesh between his teeth, the sting against his cheek painful and hurting his eyes. The red liquid of the painted one dripped from his teeth, over his velvets coated the skin of his muzzle. It shouldn't have tasted so good to an herbivore, but it did. The king was smart, not only had he gotten Silk to back off, but now he was using the sun to his advantage. Silk let out a demonic hiss as the sun shone in his eyes. He took a step back, snarling at the opposition. Midas took a leaf from Silk's playbook, and kicked up sand toward his face. The powerful gold-tipped wings brushed the sand into his face, and Silk cried out with the sting. While blinded, the king's hooves slammed into Silk's chest, and he found himself winded, gasping for air as he staggered back. The ribs weren't broken, but his chest was bruised and now from two different sides it hurt to breathe. He couldn't give up now. One more attack.. just one more. He could manage that couldn't he?

But the king had taken advantage of Silk's slow response time, and was moving now into the air, above him. Silk could barely see, his vision blinded by the sun. But Silk was lucky - Midas provided a small block of where the sun's rays came down. Silk could see just enough to make an aim. Poor, perhaps, but an aim none the less. He launched forward with his remaining strength, still struggling to breathe properly, and widened his jaw, aiming to bite at the king's dangling hind legs. His own wings propelled him forward, helping to lift the weakened body up and toward the other, claws on his wings clawing at whatever flesh they could reach. If he could only bite the cannon, tear something, bruise something.

He wasn't sure if he made contact, but he couldn't wait any longer. His wings flapped again, lowering his body to the ground, and his legs barely supported his weight as he trotted a few steps away, trying to move away from the opponent. He gasped for air, his nares straining as he wheezed.

WC: 545
Attack: (2,3)
OOC: Wasn't 100% sure where Midas was, but I thought he had moved into the air. Attacked as best I understood Midas's location.

Satanic Silk