He is denying her vengeance. He is denying her by lying about his identity. It only serves to fuel her anger further, the doe's breath comes in furious puffs. "Don't lie you coward!" Arah growls back at the massive creature. This was not something that she will allow him to refute either to her or himself. No, today he will face her. Today, if the gods so allowed it, she would be his judge and jury.

As she's charging her hooves are sure upon the dangerous ground because she knows that this is right, the gods had finally delivered him to her. The doe does not expect him to remain still and simply allow her to impale him. Though, in truth, part of her had hoped this would be over quickly. The stag lifts up his massive bulk and swings so that now they are head on. This had not been apart of her plan but she will not stop now, it is too late to back out and she did not wish to end this fight.
The doe allows herself the grim satisfaction of feeling her antler dragging down the full length of his left side. The feeling of her antlers goring into his flesh is indescribable, both utterly pleasing and horrifying in the same instance. The difference in their height, weight and strength would not matter if she is quick enough to break away before he can retaliate. Arah's nose packs up the scent of blood, that sharp, tangy metallic scent over powers her nostrils as his flesh flaps like meat in the wind. The doe does not miss the hiss that sounds from the stag and a smug smile pulls the corner of her lips up.

Now it is truly to late to back out. She has disturbed the hornets nest, poked the sleeping bear in the eye with a very sharp pointed stick.

Arah knew from their previous fight that he would not back down. Violence was what he lived for, spilling the blood of the innocents and the guilty alike was what he thrived upon. There would always be men like Tyradon, preying on the weak. Few protected the needy, few had it within themselves to defend those who deserved it. Asch and Arwen had deserved protection, a wall of defence between them and the monsters that lived in this world. The doe had been too weak and failed them.

Without another word passed between them he launches his head to the left, she hardly notices the movement in her peripheral vision. As his teeth sink into her flesh she cries out, her head thrown backwards as the pain elicits another cry from her chops. Agony ripples down her back, her entire spine reacting to his attack. With his massive height he towers over her, yet she does not allow herself to feel his domination. Arah had begun this fight and she would finish it. More bites pepper her skin, blood pools in the grooves made by his teeth until they fill and spill over. Her ivory coat because stained by the crimson red. Anger is no longer the only driving factor, pain now contributes, encouraging her to continue and push through the agony.
Deciding to use the treacherous ground to her advantage, the doe all at once stops her movements. She spins out of control, her petite figure stopping once she is facing the stag's rear. Rearing up she allows herself some concern for the soft flesh of her stomach being exposed, yet continues with her attack. Aiming for his hocks she hopes to bring her hooves crashing down and crumple the delicate joint. Or at the very least scrape away the delicate skin around his hocks and then continue to gouge the rest of his lower legs.

Meanwhile above their heads, Wynter is crying out not in pain but frustration. The dragon had avoided her attack and in one fluid movement their positions had been altered and her opponent was the dominate figure. In one swift movement the dragon throws her massive weight down with Wynter entwined in her limbs. The griffin notices the flames being created within the dragon's jaw and it becomes a race to escape. Squirming the griffin breaks free of the hold but flames still manage to lick her left foot and side. It is not a terribly bad burn, in time it will heal and her feathers will grow back. Now Wynter is on the attack again. The dragon had succeeded in her dragging her down, closer to both of their fighting masters. Closing the distance between herself and the stag, Wynter opens her claws aiming for his flank. Darkness pools around her beak and talons, praying to drain his strength and energy before his dragons can intervene.

2/3 - 800 words - So sorry about the wait. Been busy over xmas and new years.