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The curtain of night gave a different light to the scene, making eyes change perspective, and the sound of efforts in striking and bracing blows louder with the trace of heat and dispersing air that seemed more rapid from two bodies. Fatigue had started to set in her muscles, the struggle of air harsh in her throat. Flicks of moisture coating her nape as her heart pounded more fiercely. She wasn't getting his total wrath, a thought she had to keep in mind, but her muscles were still posed with tension, trying to make careful decisions.
As his teeth had landed a strike on her, did her hooves nick against his limb but he did well to depart before she caused more damage. In a real fight she might have been disappointed, but in this fight she felt the General didn't need any more physical badges. Really, getting any part of him fed her own confidence, and gave her satisfaction her next foe would carry real scars. The lady would find when she landed back to earth, front legs supporting her it awakened pain.There was no escaping injuries, and the burn swiftly gripped where his ivories had struck her tender flesh, certainly now a contusion, an open wound with red drops. Hell, hell she thought, through a tight jaw hating to think if she would walk or stumble from this fight. And what would everyone ask? What had happened? Who did this? Crawling from the General was a victory in itself wasn't it? For Faelene it was, and today it would be enough.
She fretted to keep the weight off it, but it was unnatural to put it on her haunches, though the injury on her hip seemed to throb less. She fought the sting as she should be preparing for his next assault. As a rough breath poured from her own mouth,there was a sudden sound that captured her attention. One that loomed from his thick vocals. Was his harsh sound his warning? She did not know if that's what it was, but wasn't about to ask. The red maned could feel the plains of her own magic, the force she had used to move things, but for a shield she had to to zone in her focus, concentrate on making it something very real, solid, and large. The first taste of it was strange, familiar, building in a clear shape around her while she prepared herself for what made Deimos not dangerous..but deadly. Faelene would get a touch of his magic she had asked for and could feel it gripping her, weakening her already tired legs. It was not a pleasing sensation, momentarily it felt like it would pull her down, steal her breath, steal her sight, a piece of her. There she was clinging to the invisible strands to save herself, losing her breath, feeling the panic of her body wanting to fight to live, her head becoming light and knowing she was so close. Then there was warmth, there was light, and she closed her eyes feeling it grow stronger, her lungs fill with oxygen. Sweat trickled down her brow, and she peered through narrowed eyelids seeing nothing, but knowing it was there between the General's magic and her body. Panting, she widened her gaze, and had a satisfied yet weary grin. It worked.
[Word Count:571]
[Magic Use:1/1]
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![[Image: faeleneicon.png]](http://i800.photobucket.com/albums/yy285/schwartze_asylum/faeleneicon.png)
