Why does she keep laughing? The insane, maniacal sound would have already sent him tumbling over the edge into enraged oblivion if it hadn't been for the simmering ache of loathing in his chest, the ungodly pit of unbridled hatred that overwhelms everything else. This is probably the first time he's fought when he hasn't been angry, and it's a strange, unpleasant sensation to know that he is fully in control of himself. Normally he lets the rage take charge, dull his wounds and steel his veins, but today? Today, he's on his own.

If only he had his anger, then her words wouldn't hurt so damn much.

You are the reason this happened. "No," he snarls, his eyes flashing, his expression fearsome; mane flailing, jaw clenched, ears pinned. She wanted a colt, and so had he, but instead he'd got his precious Vezér and she'd been so much more than simply her gender. She'd been brimming with potential, imbued with strength, her daddy's little girl, and this monster slaughtered her. She has no right to blame it on him!

Her scream is music to his ears, spurring him on and filling his limbs with newfound strength. The warlord in him marvels at this fight, at the fact he is going to kill for only the second time; the rest of him recoils, disgusted at what he's having to do. Killing Airlia won't bring their daughter back, but it will avenge her. It will ensure that she did not die in vain - through her death, she ensured the end of a madwoman, the demise of a devil in woman's flesh. It is not much of a consolation, but Volterra needs to cling to any shred he can else he fears he will go truly mad with grief at the loss of his darling child.

Vérzés slams into the harlot's face, shrieking his delight as he successfully gauges holes in her skin. He leaps away before her horn can strike him, circles and waits for another opening; Vadir has scorched her hind end beyond recognition, and the stink of charred flesh pervades the nostrils of the dragons and their master. Volterra inhales deeply, tasting the singed stench of murder, knowing that he's winning, knowing that a few more blows should see the mare ended. She falls to the ground, and he commands his dragons to move; he intends to land the killing blow himself, although he suspects that she's not quite down and out yet.

If he has his way, though, she soon will be.

The goliath lunges forwards again and rears high; his massive forelegs flail through the air for a moment, mud flicking from the thick feathering, before he tries to bring them slamming down upon her left side, seeking to shatter every rib in that side.

____________________

@Airlia

3/? - 469 words