Lakota & Ktulu

The Poisoner & The Constrictor

Inside her head, the arrogant lilt of her father's voice sounds. Memories, half-forgotten and unwanted, flit through her mind like uneasy sparrows. Never fight with rage. Keep your mind clear. She hated him. She hated everyone, every thing. How dare he permeate her thoughts now? How dare he cling to her, reminding her forever of her past, of her mistakes? He hadn't even had the decency to teach his firstborn daughter the blows she would use to take the lives of others. Nameless, faceless foes had lined up to teach her how to kill. How to maim and slaughter. How to cut down every emotion until you didn't feel, until the terrified faces of the yearlings and the foals staring up at you no longer made you pause. Guilt was nonexistent. How dare he speak words of wisdom that had never been proven through battle! It is easy to hate. It's easy to direct her anger at the world towards him. Blood is nothing to her. Pain is nothing to her. And as she lunges forward, she hopes the spiked collar will drive into her flesh, will target the pulsing, broken ball of blood inside her chest to end her suffering.

This isn't how you fight. You're supposed to avoid all unnecessary wounds. Lakota doesn't care. Let it end her. Let it rend, rip and shred her down until she can focus on the pain of her form instead of the pain of her heart. Her kamikaze move is crazed, but it works, for the brute seems to think that a petite mare like her wouldn't be suicidal enough to attack head on. But she has nothing to lose. Her blow lands, aching up her legs like a hard strike against a hidden stone in a grove. She wants him to hurt. Wants him to hurt her back. Wants to scream and cry and beat him down into the stone. Today she either leaves bloody and bruised or dead. A part of her doesn't want to leave this cave alive. What is left for her outside these caverns? Her brother has moved on. Her sister has disappeared once more. Her beloved is dead and gone to her. Is it so bad to want to meet her in the afterlife?

Distress takes over her, momentum moves her forward, and her foe strikes. She is carried too far forward on limbs too light, stature too small, and the bones of his collar- a pet, she scoffs internally, disgusted- do not hit quite where he'd desired. They scrape and puncture behind her shoulder, in the soft flesh of her ribs, and she howls like a demon possessed. It burns like fire, searing up her sides, eating her from the inside out. The ivory spikes had punctured deep, and she prays they hadn't grazed a lung. All she knows is the desire to get away from that awful ripping and stabbing. She jerks hard to the right, away from him, teeth clicking shut as she abandons her desire to sink them into his flesh. It is a fools errand now, especially as she jerks away. Now, she can forget. She feels peace in her pain.

In her mind she calls for Aodaun. The bear obeys, and she wishes she hadn't needed the respite. He is just a baby, her mind whimpers, but Aodaun is a fighter. A warrior. Dying from defending her...it would be an honorable way to die in his eyes.

Gaucho's wing crashes down upon the back of her head as she moves away, blood seeping hot down her left side. There's a ringing in her ears, blocking out the sibilant hiss of the brute's snake, and she's dizzy and disoriented as it knocks her sideways. Her cheek smashes into the side of the cave and she recoils, vision going fuzzy and black. Dexterity on her side with her lineage, she backpedals as fast as she can to get some distance both from the wall and from Gaucho. Aodaun, all the while, is charging forth. Rage fuels him, seeing the petite form of his bonded getting knocked around, and his magic bubbles up like a fountain inside. A roar echoes from his throat, deep and terrifying, and he targets Gaucho with his magic. Conjures up terror in the most basic form he knows, for this foe is unknown to him, he does not know his fears. Movement never halts as the massive bear lunges, teeth meant for dragging helpless seals up past ice targeting the soft flesh behind Gaucho's right elbow. He will exact revenge for the blow of the spikes to his bonded. He will take Lakota's place, and he will rend and tear while she recovers. Revenge will be his. Lakota's pain will not be ignored. Never again.


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Word Count: 799
Post: 2/3

So, my own questions! I was always told that the paragraph for the attack should be short, or else you're assuming too much? Like, if I had Lakota aim to hit Gaucho's leg and bite his shoulder like I did, but then had her move away or do any other actions, that would be assuming that Gaucho doesn't slam into her, or fight back, etc. So I don't know which one I should be paying attention to, or if there's a way to do what you're saying but not assume/powerplay? Is there a certain way to word it...?

I usually DO end up switching tense, it's a really bad habit of mine. I generally don't even realize I do it until someone points it out to me. I tried to be more aware of it this time! Also, when I first replied, Gaucho didn't have his collar on his profile from what I remember? So that might have been me overlooking it or something. Haha. Thank you so much Aud <3

Also um...I don't know the severity of stat rolls. 13.5 seems pretty severe? So I was assuming the puncturing of the collar, the wing on the back of her head, and slamming into the cavern wall was fitting? Is there some sort of guide for severity? Because I couldn't find it.