The little cherub sees victory in survival, but for the demon, there can be no pride gained from an outcome short of triumph.

The stout bitch proves shockingly nimble, arcing away from his fallen form and avoiding the rough flail of legs and the sting of his tail. He rises to his feet and lashes back- cloven hooves catch her and his legs ache in response, the pain in his spine due to be triggered by any amount of contact. The herald of nightmares grins maniacally through his shock. Her feinting, her spinning, and now her descent- they mean nothing to him except her clear defeat. That she has come to his level means she is more a fool than he believed; the heavens were the only thing keeping this sky-rat safe from his wrath, and now that she is falling at last, he sees nothing in the way of her total annihilation.

The Seraph's son has suffered some damage, and his forelegs burn while his barrel bleeds. He cannot swing his body to face her before he hears her contact the earth. It is not for want of trying; the behemoth is simply too great a force, and perhaps (though he would never tell) too battered. Black legs push beneath him, lumbering and muscled and still shaky from his recent bout of intimacy with the ground. The impairment dealt by the chubby cherub had been none too great: much bruising, some blood, and a pain in his back that would leave his steps tender for some time to come. Yet his inexperience showed in the way he carried it, his youth apparent in his foolish disregard for the protection of prior injury, for tactical responses to the physical problem, and the cost of the beast's abandon was beginning to show.

Demonchild is tired, and does not even know it.

The last fight he fought was a battle of wills, a magical dance between himself and a dragon. Now, bereft of magic as a comfortable escape, Belial has fought with the recklessness of a child, and only through luck has he remained standing thus long.

Mahogany body pivots in time to see her hooves slice the earth, the stubborn princess charging him on stocky legs. What is she doing, the fallen queen, the angel cast down and trampled, brought to play with devils and bound without hope to lose? Two colors of eye grow dim, hidden behind his narrowing lids; is she truly such a fool, to think she can take him upon his own dark earth, conquer him on the turf of sin which has born his weight for three years past? The nephew of the Reaper will not be destroyed as such – unicorns were meant to own the earth, and it was time this bitch realized this truth of the world. Belial snarls a wispy breath into the nighttime air, and waits for the impact of her body against his, form held solid and shoulders still turning to meet her head on.

It never comes.

The cloud of sand buffets his face, stinging his eyes and drawing a bellow of surprise out of abyssal lungs. He staggers back as she draws to a halt, her fat little body finally useful in its ability to stop her with such abrupt ease; Demonchild growls in the back of his throat, then coughs up sand and snarls. What is she playing at, the feinting coward? Has she learned her lesson, is she ready to make a hasty retreat? Too late, he thinks; she is a fly caught in his web, a tasty morsel he will enjoy devouring piece by piece. He braces to lunge.

I am sorry.

“What?” Gruff snarl is genuinely bemused, bright eyes wide and searching her face through the darkness and dust and the sting of sand. The apology, he can only assume, is meant for him- but for what purpose he does not know. Does the bitch apologize for the pain she has caused? It is trivial, well-won in the annals of war. Does she seek to apologize for the pain she will call? Nonsense, he thinks- this is clearly a surrender, an acknowledgment of lesser being and an play at mercy from the demon's hooves.

Belial grins, understanding at last. “And so you have learned- I am your better. Fear not, Cherub, you shall not die today. Flee, flee, fly into the night and tell the tale of Belial the DemonSpawn, He Who is the Reaper's Kin; bear your scars that the world may know the superiority of our race, that unicorns shall rise in Cinnoru's name and the kingdom of Heaven shall crumble and fall.”

The beast turns, setting trail for home, knowing that an angel has fallen - and he brought her down.

[ 800 words, defense 1 of 1. Great fight Boom <3 ]