Drugged on abhorrence, dragged on by contempt, sinned and sinned against, she felt the sickening twist of her demonic yearnings, of wanting, wishing, hoping for her attacks to land, find purchase across flesh, muscle and sinew, subsequently derailed. The hate, the malice, the menace was intoxicating, scintillating, venomous, and as the opposing femme rushed into the mist, she nearly followed, chased, sought and hunted for the ferocity burning in her chest, in her lungs, in her heart. Instead of surviving, persevering and persisting in terror, she wanted to create it, invoke it, piece it together until the ravenous exploits of her wrath and rage erupted, one mighty inferno, into the fray; devouring, consuming, plucking the Pegasus mare until she was naught, no one, disappeared and destroyed in the mist. Unnatural, wicked and eerie, covering her movements in villainous haze, in hallucinating, distracting stigmas, she shifted, almost pursued like a predacious animal – but her mind, portions still remaining compassionate, coiled in warm machinations, remembered the beast laying in the bushes, surrendered to unconsciousness, still needing the nymph’s salvation. If she were to become a ghost in the abyss, who would protect the fallen creature? And if her enemy found Imogen, what would happen to the wonderful, fragile beast?

Lena strayed, stayed, and listened to the forest, trapping the sounds of wings brushing against boughs, of hooves knocking against roots, soil, fertile, fresh ground, and attempted to pinpoint the movements amongst the fog. Did the golden beast streak to the left? To the right? To the skies, gauging another moment to fall from the heavens and destroy her? Calculations were rendered moments later, a swift ascension of motion invoked in the copse towards her left – limbs, returning to their perilous wake in that brief, slender portion of pause, tried to scramble amongst the woodland floor. To the right, grasping, toying with earth, scrambling to swerve away from the perilous bounty of forceful hooves, and then the puncturing feeling of a treacherous injury averted, only to be pressed, crushing, blowing, elsewhere. Her ribs and barrel were not ignited, but her left flank burst with a heady, thwarting onslaught of pain, brought sparks and shimmers to her eyes, distorted the calamity of her ire with a breathless torrent of agony.

She gasped, stumbled to the right, choked for air to gather in her lungs, and blinked rapidly to stop the dizzying, diverting burning in her gaze. The sylph turned heathen had no music left in her soul, no song brimming and brewing in her chest, only raptorial splendor, wolfish, rapacious desires, nothing for a ditty, for an aria, for a healing balm, to cling to again. With no sun, no guidance, no light gazing down in some heavenly bounty, the nurse was bereft, enchantments entangled, shelved, coiled for another day. Her injuries, marked by deep bruises along her right haunch, shoulder (gifted with one perilous song to not be so overwhelming, so overbearing) and left flank, were not to be honored again with invocations and spells. She was left to her own devices, to the searing ruthlessness dancing an immoral waltz behind her essence, and resolved to continue the plague of her barbarity.

Her hind hooves, not fluidly, not effortlessly, still daunted, stiffened, terrorized by the sudden onslaught of torment, aimed towards the gilded warrior’s chest, along the left, where shoulder connected with broad mass. The darkening trace of her impassioned impulses flourished again, aspired and longed for the force of power to make its mark upon the enemy. Perhaps it would show that her efforts hadn’t been wasted, that Imogen’s selflessness hadn’t been for naught, that somehow, someway, they’d made a chasm in bedlam, remembered for their valor, for their bravery, for souls lost and begging to be taken back.


[627 words.
4/4 invasion duel system.
1 + 0/1 additional Basin champ magic used. 1/2 companion used.
As Sage comes towards Lena’s left, she attempts to dodge to the right. She manages to avoid having her ribs and barrel hit, but takes the force upon her left flank. Due to the broken magic, she cannot heal again, and decides, despite the burn and ache in her flank, to kick out towards the left hand side of Sage’s chest with a force ignited by loathing.

Thank you for the fight Boom! :D]