Your usually useless wing finally pulls its weight, striking the beast square in the stomach and forecfuly sending it away. This is not a harmless exercise for you- your wing has already taken damage this fight, and the muscles of your rotator cuff are growing swollen and strained. This is the least of your worries. The ligaments, meanwhile, are quite thoroughly sprained. A doctor would likely bandage it up and order you to refrain from engaging in activities such as flying (Ha!), but you don't have a doctor, so you grit your teeth against the pain and continue to survive.

So you ignore the damage to your wing, though at the moment it is definitely making up for years of hanging useless by your side and stepping forward as team MVP. The important thing is that you managed to get away from the monster, the force of your blow not only pushing Mesec away from you, but sending you stumbling away from him, effectively increasing the separation while also causing you to stagger, your weakened foreleg refusing to take much weight and sending you into a spiraling twist of limping compensation....

...And into a tree, which you proceed to strike with your head.

You don't hit it particularly hard, but it's hard enough to leave you dizzy, a bruise blooming on the left side of your face. The world spins around you as pain damages your senses; for a moment you are blind, which is a very bad thing to be. You stumble (a pervasive theme of this fight), vigorously shaking your head to clear it, painfully aware of the beast behind you, the wolf who seems adamant on tearing you limb from limb, despite how little your conduct seems to warrant such a violent response.

You're too scared to be sardonic, though, or even to question Mesec anymore. Your hooves search for purchase on the needled earth as your head continues to spin. Sunbeam eyes blink rapidly, trying to dispel little spots of sunlight that dance like fireflies through your vision. And then, just as you're able to see again- just as you think maybe you have your bearings- just then, your ears turn and your head follows and you taken in a big eyeful of the surroundings and-

(“OOMPH!")

-and you're on the ground again, screaming, writhing against the weight of the massive beast.

He hits you square on your left shoulder, his body smashing into the metal that seeps across your side, and you go down easy. But you don't give in. You don't think This is it. You don't reflect upon your past mistakes, the things you wish you could have done differently. Your short life doesn't pass before your eyes. As Death grins down at you, his mouth pulled tight over wicked teeth, saliva dripping hot onto your skin, you, Zero the Lightning's Son, cling to life. You will not die like this- not here, not now. Not today.

You kick up, your three uninjured legs flailing at the beast, your left fore hanging back as blood continues to pool into a half-hearted scab. You've broken a rib, and your wing is pinned painfully beneath you, but you don't care. Your face is twisted into ugly determination as you fight back, trying to both strike the wolf in its ugly, toothy maw and roll away. Ideally you'll hit him and that momentum will send you onto your left, giving you an opportunity to get to your feet.

Ideally, he won't take off your hoof with those horrible teeth. You kind of need that to escape.



[4/??? | 601 words]
Injury list (for my own sanity)
- cut on left front cannon
- gashes on right flank
- sprained rotator cuff
- bruising on humerus, ulna & radius
- mild concussion
- broken rib on right side