What. The. Fuck.

There is a scream, the ungodly bellow of the most hideous beast that hell could ever create, and the titan's immediate reaction is to try and wheel around to the left to face his would-be assailant. But he's too slow, and his attacker succeeds in doing what few others ever manage; taking Volterra by surprise.

Agony explodes in the left side of his rump as the creature's wing-spike rips deep through flesh and touches hard muscle. Not only that, but another of the demon's claws clips Vérzés on the side, sending the dragon sprawling away into the heavens with an indignant squawk. A gargled groan rumbles out of the stallion's gullet, a forbidden hint of pain; combined pain from both his own wound and the injured side of his companion. Vérzés' diamond-hard scales protect him from most forms of damage, but the sharp edge of Gashad's wing-claw has managed to press a bruise into the skin beneath them. Volterra continues to pivot and, finally, he sees his attacker.

Holy shit.

It's the creature from the Tiger battle, the walking skeleton. Close up, he's absolutely fucking huge. Volterra is a titan amongst men, but this creature dwarfs him by a good three hands. And, jesus, there's not an ounce of flesh on him. He's all bone - huge bone, but bone nonetheless. How is he still standing? Magic. Dark magic, no doubt. No other form of magic could animate this skeletal behemoth and make him able to attack with such brutal force.

How the fuck didn't you see him? the stallion mentally spits at Vérzés. The red, trying to loosen his side where it's tightening into a bruise, sends his master several images of the demon that he'd picked up over the last couple of days, evidence that not only had brute and dragon alike been taken by surprise, but they'd been intentionally stalked by their attacker. Volterra is apopletic. You didn't think to tell me we were being followed?

There's no apology in Vérzés' voice when it comes. "Bones left many clues. Vol-ter clever, thought Vol-ter would notice. Looks like Vol-ter need practice."

If Volterra could fly, he'd be drop-kicking his companion into the ocean. As it is, he must leave his scolding for later, because there's the pressing matter of a giant skeletal asshole hell-bent on annihilating them. At this notion - tracked by a creature from the depths of anyone's nightmares - most horses would cower, beg mercy. Not Volterra. Hell, no. Nobody attacks him. Not even monstrous bone-demons from the armpit of Hades.

The giant has been spoiling for a proper fight since he reached manhood, and this is the perfect scenario. But like hell is this going to be a friendly spar. Bastard Bones will not be leaving this place alive...if he's even alive now. With blazing eyes filled with the fury of ten thousand suns, the stallion fixes his gaze on his opponent, unwavering, defiant despite the fact he has to look up to even see where the creature's head is. "You die now." His voice, thick and gravelly, is almost devoid of emotion, save for the simmering of anger that brews in the undertones of it. He feels his infamous temper begin to rise, a volcano bubbling beneath his flesh; the red mist lowers, almost delicately, into place.

And will you look at that? It's rampant-murder-o'clock.

A quick and pointless assessment of his foe tells Volterra what he already knows; the creature is bigger than him by a considerable amount, which in an ordinary battle would certainly force the young warrior to re-evaluate his technique. However, Gashad is pure bone - no muscle, no fat, no flesh. Thus, Volterra assumes he must be pretty vulnerable to direct attacks, given that one hard kick to an exposed bone could shatter it. So he decides to just fight as he always has - with sheer brute force.

His ripped backside is a damned inconvenience, though. He can still put weight on it, but any tugging of the flesh around the wound causes incredible pain. He continues his pivot to the left until he's hopefully facing the skeleton, and in the same beat he lashes his left foreleg powerfully forwards. He aims to kick his massive hoof into Gashad's right foreleg, just below the knee, to try and damage the bone. His lips peel and a bite begs to be freed, but biting will be little use when there's no flesh to nip - he's best conserving his energy.

Like a bloodied angel, Vérzés swoops from above, aiming to approach behind the skeleton. His jaws gape and he aims a bite towards the same claw of Gashad's wing that harmed him earlier - he tries to grab this bone between his jaws and snap it clean off, a gruesome trophy.
__________

@Gashad !
Tries to kick left foreleg into Gashad's right foreleg below the knee, whilst dragon tries to bite off a wing-claw.

1/3 - 800 words