the Rift


wolf teeth lashline == v. ozzy

Toulouse Posts: 146
Aurora Basin Impersonator atk: 8.0 | def: 11.0 | dam: 4.0
Gelding :: Equine :: 17hh :: Six HP: 74 | Buff: ENDURE
Boomslang :: Green Ratsnake :: Paralyze Neverrmind
#1

Since his sudden departure from his post on the western approach to their continent, Toulouse had found himself in moments of thought and contemplation, even allowing time to structure his weeks around tasks to better suit the direction his loyalty now faced. The longer he dwelled on the outside looking in, Toulouse began to understand that those he had clashed with had only ever seen a grin as sharp as a knife, and hatred worn like a second skin. In truth, the gelding only ever wanted an eye for an eye—
he didn’t care if they went blind.
When it came to his new home, his course of action was entirely different. All defences were down, all weapons holstered. The opposite would be no way to make allies.

The Lady’s expedition was a task he knew he could achieve, but one he knew he could easily work to his advantage. Sparring experience was needed always in the warrior ranks, and was always a welcome source of sport and training for the serpentine gent himself. What better way to help the herd than to assist a warrior in training? Volunteering as a punching bag would not do for the sleuth as he himself would greatly benefit from a good few hits himself, and besides, he had a girl in mind who he was sure would prefer to be competitive rather than beating a still target. Oizys was her name, and the times Toulouse had run into her thus far it had seemed she welcomed any challenge. In fact, she created them.

Stepping from his cave, Toulouse headed south along a ridge so he might spy the soldier from afar. Unsure if she ever strayed far fro the Basin, Toulouse took to patrolling the border in search of the gargoyle rather that keeping his eyes fixed upon the central spots. If she truly was intending on doing her job as a soldier, he wouldn't expect to find her bathing at the hot springs or enjoying a sun soak by the lake, so he didn’t waste any time by looking there. Boomslang remained spun upon his crown, wishing more sun to fall upon his body as he lay coiled in wait for another to bite just like he had Sacre.

Already the moon and the stars had begun to peak through the sun-streaked sky, the pinks, blues and purples illuminating the entire landscape as it unfolded before his feet. Pausing momentarily, Toulouse gave a great sigh as he admired the view. A sunset like this would always be the perfect remedy for any sadness that came with the anagapesis of the home he had once worked so hard for. Though, it was as he cast his windswept gaze out into the basin below that he spotted his target.

Heavy footfalls took the gelding down the slope, his pace reaching a canter by the bottom as he dashed over the cold earth. Soon reaching the flat, leafy surface below, Toulouse pinned his sights on the grey giant of a girl. Briefly mapping out the surface, gaining an idea of the slippery terrain he cantered over, Toulouse marked an area with his gaze to where he’d place their battle; a flat lakeside area between the crafter’s cave and the Basin’s lake.

With each step his attack was calculated, choosing to withhold any kind of warning from the soldier; the element of surprise would be a great element in attacking this behemoth, on the account that she would have greater strength than he due to her heavy blood. Though, Toulouse did have his own ancestors of the desert to thank for his superior endurance and what he could only hope would be a faster attack speed.

Keeling backwards onto his haunches as he drew near, collecting his powering his back and hind end, Toulouse bared his teeth as he stepped forth around the woman’s offside flank and reached out with his mouthful of fangs in an attempt to clamp them upon her whither. A grunt escaped his mouth as he then took to lifting his left front hoof, taking it forwards and then down with upon her offside knee, a great attempt at injuring the kneecap within.
It was only then as he reeled away from what he hoped was a successful attack that he gave a great roar, one that erupted fro the deepest chasm in his chest. A spar was offered, the challenge demanded.


Attack No. 1/3
Word count: 754
Setting: The basin just at sunset on a flat area near the late!
@Oizys

UNSPLASH | DRKAV@DA l SPACE
I AM THE KEY TO THE LOCK IN YOUR HOUSE—
DO NOT CRY OUT OR HIT THE ALARM
YOU KNOW WE'RE FRIEND TIL WE DIE—

EITHER WAY YOU TURN, I'LL BE THERE
OPEN UP YOUR SKULL, I'LL BE THERE
CLIMBING UP THE WALLS

SO LOCK THE KIDS UP SAFE TONIGHT
CLOSE THE EYES IN THE CUPBOARD

Oizys Posts: 134
Aurora Basin Soldier atk: 7.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 17hh :: 2 HP: 73.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Ker :: Philippine Eagle :: Curse Snow
#2


The stone soldier is, as Toulouse had assumed, patrolling. It's as boring as balls, but it's part of her job description, so Oizys tackles the task with as much gusto as she can muster. Having Ker at her side makes this duty far easier, as the raptor can help scan areas in seconds that would take the gargoyle hours. Together they amble through the Basin, searching for anything untoward that might need their attention, blissfully unaware that their peace is soon to be shattered.

Oizys does not get much warning of her impending testicle-free attacker. If it wasn't for Ker, she'd have had even less notice that she's being preyed upon - as it is, her eagle unleashes a loud, alarmed shriek that cuts into the mare's ears and bids her to swing around, scanning for the threat. "Behind!" squeals Ker, and Oizys turns again, but there's little chance of managing to avoid her assailant completely. Her movement means his blow lands squarely on the right side of her rump instead of her shoulder, and his razor-sharp teeth sink through her skin like knives. She's never been bitten in battle before, but she'd expected bruising, pinching, aching. Not slicing, not blood erupting from the gaping wound, not a spasm of agony as the teeth carve through flesh and into hard muscle.

She roars, blundering blindly forwards and hurling her weight to the right to try and pivot around and face her attacker, which causes his flailing hoof to mercifully miss its target. Her rump, though, is a hot pit of agony, the muscle badly sliced by the offending fangs and blood oozing freely from the twin pinpricks. Her movement causes them to create small slices as well, and the pain is ungodly. "Holy fuckity fuck," she bellows, her ears flattening down and her eyes rolling furiously in her head. They search for their attacker, ready to smash, ready to annihilate - and, finally, they see him.

It's him. Well, of course it is.

"What in the name of the Spark God's hairy ball-sack was that for?" she hisses, her ass stinging with an almost unbearable level of torment. She's used to pain - the harpy-scars on her face indicate that she's used to more pain than most people suffer in a lifetime - but there's something particularly acute about this agony. The way the fangs have carved so deeply into her...it feels like a violation, like her very body has been soiled by whatever unholy mutation Toulouse possesses. She knew he was dodgy as fuck from the moment she met him, but even she hadn't thought he had giant-ass fangs stashed in his lips.

His roar, though, indicates his intentions. A spar. Realisation flits across the mare's face and she hardens her expression, preparing herself for war. She's still new to the battlefield, but there's no chance she's going to make that obvious, so she assesses the gelding like a true warrior should. Their heights are identical, although Oizys' great bulk signifies her superior strength. Their speed and agility cannot be too far apart, but she's guessing his endurance outstrips hers - she will tire faster, so it's in her best interests to try and end the fight quickly.

She knows just the way to do that.

Ker shifts, moving like a lightning bolt. From Oizys' mane she grabs a vial, pulls the tail-hair plug from it and, in a fraction of a second, hangs it downwards in her claws so the crimson liquid within trickles into the gargoyle's waiting mouth. Without hesitation, Oizys lunges forwards, seeking to approach Toulouse head-on, and as she does so she calls upon her magic. Agony erupts, her bones snapping, crumbling, reforming, her thick bulk growing even larger, hair sprouting across her whole body - and instead of a young mare throwing herself at Toulouse, there's a massive grizzly bear, huge and muscled and deadly. From her muzzle she unleashes a thunderous snarl, lifting onto her hind legs and attempting to wrap her colossal forearms around the gelding's neck as though in an embrace. Her hooked claws seek to rasp against the flesh of his withers, trying to leave devastation in their wake, and she forces her weight downwards to try and wrestle him to the ground.

Her jaws unfurl, attempting to bite hard into the left side of his neck - she doesn't insert enough force to kill him should she hit, but he doesn't need to know that. Let him think he is about to be crushed by the titanic grizzly that is trying to drag him to the ground like prey. Let him know what it feels like to be bitten, to have his body infiltrated in such a way.

Let him suffer.

_________

@Toulouse !

1/3 - 785 words

AS GOD IS MY WITNESS, I'D RATHER BE DANGEROUS
image credits

[ the gargoyle queen ]
OIZYS IS ALWAYS RATED M FOR STRONG LANGAUGE IN HER POSTS




Toulouse Posts: 146
Aurora Basin Impersonator atk: 8.0 | def: 11.0 | dam: 4.0
Gelding :: Equine :: 17hh :: Six HP: 74 | Buff: ENDURE
Boomslang :: Green Ratsnake :: Paralyze Neverrmind
#3

TOULOUSE
FALLEN OUT OF BED FROM A LONG & WEARY DREAM

The serpent's lips twisted, becoming the coldest of smiles.

Perhaps it was the fact that he had been waiting to find this woman’s weakness, or simply had been pining to see her in a state of destruction since their heated meeting...
but, either way, the gelding was more than glad to hear her roar.  Nothing pleased the pale one more than a defence tore down, especially one built with paper clips. Since Oizys’ over-zealous and cocky introduction all those weeks ago, Toulouse had wished to see her lose that penetrating, squirming smugness she always seemed to carry upon her countenance. It was the kind that caused him to scrunch his nose in irritation, his hatred for the young and entitled growing stronger with every word the gargoyle spoke.

Just as his fangs bit and tore, a grunting growl of his own escaped the chasm of his lungs, echoing through his mouth as his rival spun before his eyes. With his hoof reaching for her knee, a knee he hoped was destined to crack in submission to the power of his own, Toulouse keeled his eyes upward to glance toward the young woman’s face. It was a clumsy miscalculation. His hoof, gliding over her own through the air, struck the turf below with a great thud causing his lips to curl up and over his incisors with a snarl of disgust and disappointment.
Toulouse had so missed the thwack and crack of breaking bone.

‘What in the name of the Spark God’s hairy ball-sack was that for?’
Her hiss was an unwelcome one, causing a great glare to run from his own eyes to hers. There was no need to explain his attack, and besides, his reasoning was, by all means, the least of her concerns. She seemed like a woman who could endure pain given the impressive life-long mark she bore upon her face. The serpent could only assume it was immaturity and girlishness that caused such an almighty reaction — the kind he’d never got before when beginning a spar.
Boomslang eyed the eagle, craning his own head upwards and giving a hiss of warning towards the attacker and her paired avian. Boomslang hated other companions, but most of all he hated birds.

The pair of serpents took a defensive stance, edging away from the agitated gargoyle as her bonded sprung into action.
What came next was something neither snake nor thief would have expected, and it seemed Toulouse would get his crackle and smack of breaking bone after all.

His opponent, which had previously been a rather beastly mare, was now completely deformed… and it only got worse with each passing moment.

Watching with a horrified glare, Toulouse wondered momentarily if this was Boomslang’s doing and another trick up the young snake’s sleeve he was yet to discover, just like the last had been. As the horrid transformation progressed, however, the more it seemed completely intentional. Coarse hair and a rounded snout took up the face of his rival, eyes turning an even darker shade of black.  A bear.
“…No…” Toulouse uttered in disbelief. This was NOT what he had signed up for.

The gelding had no time to curse fate for choosing this course, nor did he have time to think up much of a plan. In only a number of seconds, the beast was upon him, plate-like paws reaching towards his neck. Enveloped in a strange embrace, Toulouse found his nose pressed against the snarling chops of the great, hairy bear, clenching his teeth and gritting through the pain of her clawing grip upon his whither. Blood fell, he felt the droplets rolling from a tendril of marks upon each side of his wither, the pain searing and hot. How could he escape this?
Another moment and he was being pulled towards the ground, ghastly fangs of her own reaching for his throat. Surely if they reached him he was done for.

“Boomslang!” the thief stammered, coiling upon his haunches as he attempted to untuck his legs from the bear’s grip. The angered snake, having received his signal gave one more almighty hiss before he lunged for the bear himself, fangs attempting to latch onto the fleshy neck of the deformed creature and unleash his paralytic venom. Only a few moments more and the beast would be rigid as a corpse… or so he wold hope.
Steering his movement away from the clawing creature, Toulouse managed to slam his back legs upwards in an attempt to bashfully penetrate the skull of his beastly rival, hunching upon his injured wither as he packed his punch.


ATTACK; 2/3
WORDS; 771
Boomslang uses his paralyse magic!
@Oizys

I AM THE KEY TO THE LOCK IN YOUR HOUSE—
DO NOT CRY OUT OR HIT THE ALARM
YOU KNOW WE'RE FRIEND TIL WE DIE—

EITHER WAY YOU TURN, I'LL BE THERE
OPEN UP YOUR SKULL, I'LL BE THERE
CLIMBING UP THE WALLS

SO LOCK THE KIDS UP SAFE TONIGHT
CLOSE THE EYES IN THE CUPBOARD

Oizys Posts: 134
Aurora Basin Soldier atk: 7.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 17hh :: 2 HP: 73.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Ker :: Philippine Eagle :: Curse Snow
#4


With the sensitive pads of her paws, Oizys allows herself to caress the ground and take note of it. It's fairly firm, enough to be unremarkable; there's nothing particularly interesting about it, nothing that could help or hinder the shapeshifting mare. The temperature, too, is almost perfect, not enough to make the gargoyle's flesh sweat beneath the great coat of matted fur that she currently wears. That's the amazing thing about the Basin - it almost always cool, and that suits Oizys down to the ground.

The gelding's uttered no sends a shiver of pleasure down Oizys' spine. Even in her horse form, she feeds off the fear of her peers. She relishes in the knowledge that she has created that emotion, that she has the power to turn the screw and deepen the terror or relinquish her victim from its grasp as she sees fit. In her bear form, with predatory instinct overwhelming any sense of kindness or goodness within the black-hearted girl, there's something almost sexual about the glee that erupts within her at Toulouse's single word. She caused him to do that. She caused a crack in that arrogant, sneering veneer of his, and for the first time she thinks she glimpses something almost human beneath the slimy, snakelike exterior that he projects.

Maybe he does have a heart after all, capable of beating ice-cold fear through his body. The bear-gargoyle is determined to find out, holding her grip firm against the gelding as he thrashes like stricken prey, sending yet more fountains of pleasure through her body. She's done as she intended, and she recoils as she reaches for her magic again and drags her body reluctantly back from bear to mare in an explosion of raw, bone-snapping agony.

Her pain-infused stagger backwards saves her, as it transpires. Toulouse's pet snake (there's so many potential penis jokes that she's dying to utter, jokes that will die in her mind because she's so focused on the battle) lunges for her, but just misses courtesy of her backwards movement. The gargoyle's ears pin angrily - that snake could have killed her, the venomous little fucker! So it's like that, is it? Before Oizys can screech some furious abuse, Toulouse has suddenly twisted around like the serpent he is, and it's his back legs that she's confronted with - he bucks towards her head, and the mare unleashes a loud snarl as she lifts into a half-rear to try and save her skull from being caved in by the gelding's hooves. Instead, his blow lands on her lower chest, and it lands heavily. Immediately the affected area seizes up in a thick, muscle-deep bruise that throbs with an unholy level of pain, knocking the air from the soldier's lungs and causing her to emit a thunderous bellow of torment.

She lands from her rear, finding herself forced backwards another step by the strength of Toulouse's kick. The agony in her chest is exquisite, and the tightening of the area ensures that Oizys' movement will be compromised for the rest of the fight. Chasing after the gelding isn't an option, so with another great roar of fury, the gargoyle summons her other magic. The air around her body sizzles, crackles, burns with the force of the Oizys-shaped creature that blossoms like a flower from nothingness. It's her size, her shape, but it's made of blue-black electricity, flickering ominously against the evening sky. Spark-Oizys dives forwards, hunting for Toulouse's back end - it lifts its great forequarters and tries to mount the gelding, attempting to wrap its front legs around his hips and press its chest against his backside. It seeks to electrify him, to stun and paralyze him with its deadly, sizzling bulk, hoping to cause him considerable pain and maybe even hinder his movements.

Ker circles, shrieking her rage at the palomino's attack upon her bonded. Her feathered wings flare and cast her around in a wide loop, her cold grey eyes narrowed to furious slits as she contemplates where best to strike the ball-less bastard for optimum pain. She opens her massive hooked beak, releasing a blast of black, fetid air that makes a beeline for Toulouse in an attempt to infect him. The raptor chooses her disease carefully and cruelly - rabies. She wants to leave him as a slobbering, foaming, sweating mess of distress, to make him fear for his own mortality and beg for relief from the hell of her creation.

At the same time, she swoops like an avenging angel. Her vicious talons extend and she attempts to sink them hard into the man's left shoulder, hoping to burrow down to the muscle.

_________

@Toulouse !

2/3 - 775 words

Ker uses her Curse magic (Curse: another with parasite, disease, or mental issue for 3 posts.) to try and curse Toulouse with rabies >.>

AS GOD IS MY WITNESS, I'D RATHER BE DANGEROUS
image credits

[ the gargoyle queen ]
OIZYS IS ALWAYS RATED M FOR STRONG LANGAUGE IN HER POSTS




Toulouse Posts: 146
Aurora Basin Impersonator atk: 8.0 | def: 11.0 | dam: 4.0
Gelding :: Equine :: 17hh :: Six HP: 74 | Buff: ENDURE
Boomslang :: Green Ratsnake :: Paralyze Neverrmind
#5

TOULOUSE
FALLEN OUT OF BED FROM A LONG & WEARY DREAM

The shapeshifter is cunning; he’d allow her that much, and despite her crude roars and agitating boyishness perhaps he even liked her a little. Still, how could someone so young fight so fiercely? There were scars that scorned the most precious skin around her eyes, a mark that he would expect to see on only the most seasoned warrior, but no - it was a half-grown nordling. It appeared that Toulouse should come to expect this from the north; it’s people gave to the land and were only given half back, and yet, while Toulouse had not met the wizard deity of time, he already hated him.
Why anyone on this continent turned to the gods for salvation was completely beyond him. It was these wretches down below who did the working, the fighting, the dying.  Perhaps he was thinking of Nyx and how that decaying monster threw her aside like a rag-doll, but truly - the gods? They never got their feet wet.
Though perhaps he even found comfort in the fact that he had for the first time in what could possibly be years, he had witnessed another drink from the life of another. While he felt a similar kind of disgust, the kind he had first felt when witnessing the vile act, he also felt a blossoming sense of brotherhood and camaraderie towards the gargoyle. Was her magic only sustained on the blood of others? And to be so… open about it. He wondered what someone such as Oizys would think about a creature who sustained not only their magic on plasma and blood cells but their every shard and being too.

The thundering of impact that escaped from under his hoof was enough to cause his eye to roll back, lurking upon the enemy for confirmation of his escape. Was he out of her midst? If he was watching the fight, Toulouse would be telling himself to just run and not look back until he was sure the beast wasn’t an inch from his hocks. Instead, the gelding twisted before the lamenting gargoyle, aiming to put as much distance between them as was possible. Once again, he was not expecting what would come next.

As if her life force was leaching into the air, the buzzing and hiss of the atmosphere began to overwhelm the gelding with fear. If a light bulb hung in the vicinity it would surely explode, and Toulouse might even attest to the fact that the air pressure dropped; though truthfully, it was possibly just the blood rushing from his limbs to supply his furiously trembling heart. The creature roamed forth, a roar and brontide charging with it as it bounded its way toward him. Toulouse, who by now had turned to face the apparition had lowered his chest and spread his legs in anticipation for impact, with a plan to leap from the electric figure’s midst at the last moment available. It wasn’t that simple though because what the thief did not know was that once a current had a hold of you, it did not let go.

It approached.
The gelding leapt.
ZAP!
Like a snare he was caught by the apparition, landing first upon his feet to the ground and then stumbling to his knees with a mighty thud. “AAH!” he shrieked against the burning, heart-killing pain that radiated from the snag against his hind-left leg. A shock; deep and to his core, the kind that would leave him breathless, woozy and disoriented for the fight to come. Not a moment to pass and the daring eagle had made her move, swooping down with a vengeance to breathe a foul vapour upon him. Shielding his face within his own chest, the gelding attempted to rise from the ground, a groan escaping his maw as he reached through the extensive pain the shock had left him. The vapour was the kind he could only assume was toxic, so as he glanced around he made a point to hold his breath.
Stumbling forward once again he was met with the claws of the raptor, the talons gripping upon his whither and digging into his flesh. A cry, one so foul it caused anger to boil within him, Toulouse’s gaze searched for the perpetrator, seeking her gaze. “GO!” He bellowed to the snake upon his crown, allowing the constrictor to descend his post-like legs and slither forward across the ground as the thief aimed to grasp his opponent’s eye contact. Relying on the woman’s eye contact that he so desperately sought, Toulouse demanded she feel the paralysing pain he had just felt… only worse. Much much worse. The green snake aimed to slither up her own leg and coil around her neck, tightening, choking, suffocating.




ATTACK; 2/3
WORDS; 799
Toulouse uses his pain magic!
Also jut so you know, Boomslang is a ratsnake which is a type of constrictor haha so hes non venemous and couldnt kill oizys even if he tried xD
@Oizys

I AM THE KEY TO THE LOCK IN YOUR HOUSE—
DO NOT CRY OUT OR HIT THE ALARM
YOU KNOW WE'RE FRIEND TIL WE DIE—

EITHER WAY YOU TURN, I'LL BE THERE
OPEN UP YOUR SKULL, I'LL BE THERE
CLIMBING UP THE WALLS

SO LOCK THE KIDS UP SAFE TONIGHT
CLOSE THE EYES IN THE CUPBOARD

Blu the Bootyful Posts: 443
Administrator atk: 99 | def: 99 | dam: 99
Mare :: Other :: 5'7" :: 25 HP: 99999 | Buff: TWERK
Blu
#6
3/3 for Toulouse
 HP: 1100

Helovia Hard Mode

Oizys Posts: 134
Aurora Basin Soldier atk: 7.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 17hh :: 2 HP: 73.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Ker :: Philippine Eagle :: Curse Snow
#7


Her chest is a solid staccato of pain, beating out an unpleasant rhythm through her muscles and flesh. It's her worst battle injury to date, and there's a fair amount of her pride that is equally wounded by the knowledge that Toulouse, of all people, was the one to inflict it on her. He seems the sort to gloat, and it helps give Oizys a sense of second wind as she readies herself for the final salvo of the battle. She's not going to stop now, give into the agony and let him have the satisfaction of besting her. She's not going to submit, bend the knee and beg for mercy purely because her chest is a mass of living fire, of skin forged into suffering.

The gargoyle does not give up. She has the scars, both physical and mental, to attest to that.

Her spark-beast's successful blow goes some way to helping anaesthetise her aches and pains, and there's a glow of savage pride in her eye as he screams. Her ears ram forwards to inhale the sound, to process it, to thrive upon it; it is her medicine, and it's almost utopia. Ker's attack is less successful, her foul emission failing to find its target, and the blood on her talons is scant consolation for the rabies she hadn't managed to inflict on him. She withdraws, shrieking, and moves towards her bonded again like a feathered bodyguard.

The gelding is stumbling, and a smirk flashes across the mare's scarred features at the sight of him. Look at him, wounded! She flicks her eyes to his, wanting to see them alight with pain, wanting to see any remaining hint of fear in their dark depths, wanting to observe the moment that he realises his grey-skinned opponent is not going to fall so easily. Oizys meets his gaze proudly, strongly, arrogantly; but pride, they say, comes before a fall.

Torture. Without touching her, without even being near her, the palomino has her in his thrall. He is the puppeteer and she is his doll, helpless to his command as he bids pure, unbridled agony to burn like wildfire through her body. Oh, it's something else - it's worse than the pain of her shifts, because at least that's something she controls and she knows it will end at some point, but this is unrelenting. It would be enough to bring even the strongest warriors to their knees, and Oizys flings her head high as a bloodcurdling scream rips free from her jaws. Her throat is red raw with the volume of her voice, and deep inside her mind she is furious with herself for letting him know how much it hurts, how much she'd be willing to do anything, anything, to make it stop....

"SNAKE!" Ker's screech rivals her own, and the gargoyle forces her eyes - which had scrunched shut with the torment - open once again. There, slithering towards her, is the gelding's damned serpent again, and it's coming for her body. Not a chance. Summoning what little strength she has left and releasing the shackles of Toulouse's torture, Oizys shifts in a half-rear from the ground, not enough to jar her already badly wounded chest. Then she slams down, seeking to counter the snake before it can clamber up her leg by trying to slam both forehooves down hard on top of it, hoping to snap the little fucker in half. Usually she wouldn't attack somebody's companion so viciously, but she's too addled with the hellish pain to find time for mercy.

Ker turns, angling towards the gelding once again. This time she goes for the face - not the eyes, her bonded isn't that far gone, but she hopes to rip her claws and beak across the delicate flesh of Toulouse's nose and forehead. Her wings flap and swing, hoping to batter and smack him around the chops, aiming to distract and hurt as well as trying to break the eye contact that seems to be making her bonded writhe so hideously.

The gargoyle can feel the exhaustion plaguing her even as she tries to attack the snake. This battle has sapped every last ounce of her stamina, and she feels weak-kneed with the veritable feast of different ouchies that cover her. Despite it all, though, she's proud of herself for seeing it through, and even more proud that she's proven herself to be more than just a loud-mouthed bimbo. She's also learned a very valuable lesson - never look a snake-tongued gelding in the eye.

_________

@Toulouse !

3/3 - 755 words

Thanks for the fight Neverr!

AS GOD IS MY WITNESS, I'D RATHER BE DANGEROUS
image credits

[ the gargoyle queen ]
OIZYS IS ALWAYS RATED M FOR STRONG LANGAUGE IN HER POSTS




Blu the Bootyful Posts: 443
Administrator atk: 99 | def: 99 | dam: 99
Mare :: Other :: 5'7" :: 25 HP: 99999 | Buff: TWERK
Blu
#8
Time limit exceeded. Toulouse defaults to Oizys. Oizys earns 0.5 VP.
 HP: 1100

Helovia Hard Mode


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