Take me to the end so I can see the start

The eagle didn’t like this one bit. Through their bond he could not help but feel the emotions that drove her to rage and to scream—he could empathize in the most literal way— but he saw nothing in this tantrum that could serve any purpose. Gwaihir could match Megaera in fierceness any day but his golden head was level where her dark one only vaguely attempted to be. Their twined souls could be severed and set upon scales, he as temperance and she as wild abandon and the two should balance in some harmony but now there was only discord. Was it because Meg had tried to be something she was not? Something in her clung to that idea, that it had been a foolish mistake to ever raise her to Sultana in the first place… Maybe then it would be Gaucho’s fault and not her own that she had failed in it so miserably. Straight-laced, wise, cautious, noble: all the things she had tried to be for the sake of being Sultana of Dragon’s Throat were all gone to shit and now that she no longer felt herself bound by such restraints the wildness, the recklessness, rose up in her more powerful than ever. It was a rebellion against dashed expectations and disappointed hopes but the eagle saw only folly.

Meg, stop this. It’s not your fault. He pushed the words into her mind but she tried to drown him out. She didn’t want to be comforted or quieted or consoled. She wanted violence, wanted to mete out punishment on all who had made her feel like this: on the ones to had taken Asavvi from her, on Gaucho for leaving her, on the Sun God for stripping her, on the herd who hadn’t seen how hard she’d tried, on Ampere and Cera for making her feel like a gutless coward. Meg— "GET BENT, GWAIHIR" She snarled at the bird, thrashing her head as though trying to shake him out of it. His words would only make her feel worse, for as long as her list of offenders stretched it was far too easy to substitute her name for each and every one of them, and she could punish herself. Megaera! His mind shouted it into hers, trying to get her attention for he had see what she had not. Black eyes blazing red with a fiery threat Megaera raised her face too seek out the eagle as it circled but she saw nothing of the sky. He had forced the imagine into her mind like a forceful slap—the image of herself, and an enormous stallion barreling toward her. It was then she heard the Elephant King’s bellow. Megaera whirled in time to see the massive stallion rear.

Even before she recognized her opponent as the King she had met briefly in the threshold, Meg felt a wicked stab of satisfaction. She had called for a fight and now she had one and with a stallion as big as all the feelings she wanted to drown out, someone she couldn’t crush so quickly, someone she didn’t have to hold back on. Fucking perfect. Her movement was a dangerous one, pivoting too quickly to her right where Tembovu launched the assault she had so insistently invited. The ground beneath her was torn and slick with mud that she and the rain had made and as she tried to spin her footing slipped for a moment out of her control. Her wings stretched wide to both sides to steady herself, the right one passing in an arc in front of her opponent. The involuntary reflex that kept her from falling did however have the unfortunate result of stretching out her unguarded wing and putting it at the mercy of Tembovu’s flailing hooves.

They struck near the base of her wing and tore an angry scream from her. The only mercy was the momentum from her turn had already been pulling the wing way from the blow, but even then, the massive hooves bludgeoned the corded muscles there her body listed to her right as the appendage was wrenched down. Blood pooled under the surface filling a thousand little tears in the muscles that screamed in protest of the effort of holding the injured wing extended. She tried to pull the wing in close again, but that hurst just as fiercely. In pain, in excitement, Meg’s eyes flashed and burned, seeking Tembovu, focusing. As though shoving with her own will to try and force him back, red crackling light shot like jets from her eyes, aiming to gouge and burn his face or chest. With a battlecry of her own, she threw her body forward. The spikes that lined her breastplate were wicked, reaching to follow where her lightning had led.


”Megaera.”
Gwaihir

@Tembovu
Words :: 799 - wordcounter.net
Attack :: 1/3
Summary :: BIRD YELLING! Meg turns towards Tembovu and starts to slip in the mud, his hooves strike her right wing near the base. She faces him, slashing with her lightning magic toward his face and chest then lunges to bash/stab him with the spiked on her armor.
Magic Used ::
:: [ Magic: FirexSpark | Can shoot fiery red lightening from her eyes. ] 
:: [ Restrictions | Requires concentration and extends 5m from eyes. ]

take me where the fire still owns its spark

there's only one way to mend a broken heart

Megaera