A battle was predicted, and a battle they inevitably got.

Nephele had stayed on the island, intending to stake it out until the battle finally came to claim it's quota of bloodshed, anguish and sorrow.

The putrid feline had burst out of hiding with such fervor and vindiction, tar spewing and littering the ground beneath her mossy form, a trap for the unfortunate who could not avoid or get into the air at a moments notice.

It was a cue no one needed to know beforehand, or be shouted to act on, it ran as deep as primal instinct. As the God tussled with the corruption made flesh and sinew, Nephele was quick to get airborne. Her might hindquarters engaged to send her into an immediate gallop as her wings spread like blackened sails to catch the wind, having to jump the final stretch as a stream of sludge scattered in front of her— she didn't pause to think that the rift tigeress did it with purpose or not, an attempt to stem the tide of Pegasai that would no doubt flock to the sea wind. In this moment, all that mattered was to get into the sanctuary of the sky.
It was no doubt an attempt to stem any and all offensive rushes to defend the Helovian god from her razor sharp claws and primal teeth.

The amazonian warrior lets out a shrill cry, swirling the currents to look for an opening. It's instinctive now, pure adrenaline pulsating through her veins. Defend. keep safe. protect. It's a mantra wired deep in her bones. She's not so foolish as to dive head in, she's seen the tar that leaks from her once luxurious pelt, she's lithe and she's deadly. Hissing tar boils and churns once separated from it's mistress, searing hotly with a dangerous intent.

Nostrils flare in agitation, she does not have magic, and therefore she cannot afford the safety of range that others may have had the luxury to wield. The Warrior would have to get close, close to the jaws and paws made to rend flesh from careless bones. She would have to get close to the searing tar that threatened to ground her if they slicked her feathers and burn with searing heat if it caressed her flesh. It was a gamble then, to hit a spot free of black corruption and avoid the consequences.


She would protect her Gods, and protect this new land.

Banking sharply, the war painted Pegasus made her move. Perhaps it's a little ambitious, to strike so close without magic to aid her, perhaps it is not. Putting her back to the sun, her golden feathers shone like a bright halo momentarily, fading as she began her steady descent. Her body angled and feet extended, she would bring iron hard hooves down against the beast's back, in a barrage of vengeful, decisive strikes.

Let the devil deal me pain in recompense, she thinks, as she nears the mossy back riddled with tar, should it be with sharp weaponry or in the searing sludge she oozed.


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Notes;; #TeamEarthGod

Nephele manages to get airborne while narrowly missing the tar spread out in front of her. She circles the impromptu battlefield watching the tigeress for an opportunity to strike. She then dives with her back to the sun, hooves extended ready to crush into the rift gods back.