aggravated hallucination [ Rikyn vs. Ki'irha ]

[JUDGED] aggravated hallucination [ Rikyn vs. Ki'irha ]

Ki'irha Posts: 176

Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 6

Mare :: Unicorn :: 15hh :: 5 years old HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE

Noella

09-25-2015, 10:26 PM

Ki’irha
A warrior made of the midnight sky
The girl’s aim was true. She felt the snap and pop of skin as she punctured the gold-stained stallion’s hide, and as she wrenched herself upwards, blood sprayed across her sculpted face. A shrill whinny broke from her lips as she reared, hooves scraping nothing but warm air as the stag avoided her daggers. She landed, dragging a cloven hoof through the ground. She snorted and snarled, black oozing freely, a film of sweat clinging to her body. The air smelled of blood and sweat and earth and black. She quivered, rage burning into her heart, tensed muscles aching and burning as she exerted herself. Her chest burned still where he had ripped her open, letting any chance of a change of heart seep away like her blood into the soil. ”He bleeds for you. Make him bow. Make him beg for mercy that you will not provide.” He had mumbled something, though she was unable to decipher the words. Perhaps the black stallion had realized his mistake. But realization had fallen upon him too late. This would not end with forgiveness. This would not end with tenderness. This pain and hate would last forever.

The stood for a moment, facing each other. The air was silent, other than the gasping sounds of blackened lungs trying to refill desperately with oxygen. She could feel the tar crackling in her lungs. Her nostrils were flared, drawing in breaths as deep as she could before the coughing began and threatened to shatter her ribcage. She moved forwards slowly. The lightest of limp marred her steps, leg sore from the brute’s kick. She stopped before him, speaking as though she were speaking to a lover. “It’s a shame I am blind, for I would love to see you now. But the smell is enough. Your blood drowning the scent of mine, paired delicately with the earthy smell of sweat and mud. It is intoxicating--“ she seemed to purr the last word, savoring it’s taste as it slipped from velvet lips, “—And I will remember it forever. It’s truly a shame, as you seem a fair match for myself. But this is not the day the midnight queen will fall. I will not fail. You will. Perhaps you already have.”

Front hooves launched the warrior off the ground into a final rear and she leapt forwards. The stallion met her, though they nearly missed each other, and his horn dragged across her haunches, a row of red pearls bursting from the wound. This wound was not as deep as the one across her breast, but screamed on its own. She turned, teeth bared, ready to take him on face to face, when hooves pounded into her thigh. A screech escaped her as crushing pain bloomed dark and angry through her leg, and she nearly tumbled again. She staggered forward. Rage and annoyance ripped through her mind, red leeching into her dark vision.

She forced herself backwards, clumsiness resettling into her movements. She returned the favor and coiled, and released as much energy as she could. She hoped to make him buckle, make him fall, cripple him. As soon as her hooves returned to their rightful place on the ground, she repeated the action, though this time with less power. She bounded forwards, placing several strides between them, before spinning to face him. Pain blossomed red and vivid throughout her body. A mask of crimson was slicked across her face, horn glistening, bloodied, in the light. Rust on cobalt, red against the Milky Way. Patches of her mane were slick with blood, the deepness of the color stark against her white waves. She gasped, a cough adding a spray of black to the mix. Nostrils flared and she snorted, eyes stormy and glaring. Her sides heaved, her breathing heavy and ragged.

She stood now, waiting for something. Like two dancers, drunk and ill and everything wrong, she had not enjoyed this battle. He was larger than she, and he had been quicker. She was stronger, but he held on longer. She was tired and beaten and sore. But this was it. She waited for the stallion to face her, waited for the battle to continue until one of them fizzled out like a dying star. She was sure it would be him. The delirium lied to her, told her she could continue. But another brutally placed hoof or perfectly aimed horn could end her, leave her to die in this meadow. She could not force herself towards him again. Her muscles would not allow it. Tears welled in her eyes as she realized she could not catch her breath, each inhale painful and sharp. She was ready for it to be over. One way or another, this would be over.
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speech
WC: 797
3/3
Summary:: Ki’irha monologues, then rears again, just to be dramatic. As she goes to attack Rikyn she misses, and he digs his horn into her thigh causing a superficial, though painful, laceration. She goes to turn to confront him again, placing herself in perfect position for his kick to get her. It causes severe pain and bruising. She faces her butt towards him and goes backwards a bit to try to get closer and kicks twice, the first with more power and force than the second. She then retreats several strides away, and turns around so she is facing him/their battle area.
@Rikyn

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