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05-10-2016, 06:13 PM
 She has nothing left now. Running solely on nothing at all at this point. If she knew what shock was then she would indeed be a little worried about the numb feeling, the tunnel vision, the heartbeat drowning all other sounds out of her ears... She can feel the heat of her blood spreading across her flesh, webbing out of her through the cracks and raw burns that now score her beaten little body. Phrixus gets knocked off balance and almost eats it into the chunky wet snow beneath, but luckily recovers to swoop in a few wide circles around he sparring pair. She falls away from her failed attempt with a grunty sort of growl as he nabs her with his teeth. She attempts to grab for his right shoulder as he grabs, and lands, a nasty bite on across her withers. She thinks she can hear his snarl, but isn't sure if she made it up herself. A mirage of battle. Something in her produces a snarl of her own, a purring growl as he leaves a chunk of her withers pink and open. She reaches out to find a roll of muscle and fur in her grip, adrenaline lingering long enough for her to resist the temptation to submit to his final lashing. Oh and how wonderful it would feel to crumble into him, to simply submit herself to whatever, to defeat. Fuck that. She's come this far – she's not dead yet. Limping, scorched, bruised and bloodied, but heart pumping and blood rushing still. She sucks in a heavy breath and relishes in the bitterness of the cold biting at the inside of her lungs. Standing stiffly heaving breaths and letting the salty sweat sting her newborn wounds she tries to collect her blurring vision. Thoughts of the future flood her mind for a moment, but they struggle to move around in her brain...things are certainly not working clearly at the moment. Her thoughts are quickly fading. She keeps her eyes fixated on the stallion towering over her, her King, the master of them all. The cloaked man with a sickle and shadows that follow him around. Nothing between them will ever be the same. Externally it will probably not look any different than before, but this will always be in the back of her mind when her hazelnut eyes meet his own abysmal, scary stare. Everything aches. Each individual wound does not scream for itself anymore. No, they share the love and now her entire body is consumed in agony. The burns are starting to crust in the open air, her nostrils are raw from heavy breathing...her legs feel like they're seconds from buckling. After this she will be able to face her challenges at the Veins of the Gods. Her plans will benefit the Basin as much as herself. Obviously a visit to a healer is first on the list. Is...this....over...yet? She can hear her companions cries and sharp warning calls ring out into the frozen landscape. He's racing around them in wide circles, eager to see his injured unicorn out of this spar. He refrains from diving after Deimos but every few laps he dives by the stallions ear just for good measure. Summary: She is just plain old worn out. She's very close to 'passing out'. Not falling down or whatnot, or maybe that, but mostly just deliriously in pain. Sort of eyes glazed over and just lethargic weak. She offers a defense 'attack' bite but it is all she has left. Same wounds as before with an extra bite on her withers. non omnis moriar |
@Deimos
omfg im so bad
<33
i feel weird about this one?
i guess im just bad at closing? idk.
thank you for all your tips! such a great learning experience c;
- You may use violence and magic against her at will, but no death.
- Please tag me so I don't forget anyone(:
