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The scars tearing across her charcoal bodice was tedious testament to the hard, long battles she had fought and the endless wars that she slogged forward throughout her life, and yet since coming to Helovia it seemed the edge of her fighting was becoming dull, and it appeared she should have sharpened the sword with a whetstone before entering the arena that had no familiar faces shouting out her name. Was it luck- these abominable failures- savaged and ruined by Helovia- had she never had the skill all along? It began to creep in on her, the doubts, settling in her bosom, stretching out a flexing black cat that promised nothing good in her future. Had Confutatis' timing been wrong? She had gorged herself on the spring grass while the north was still chilled, in hopes to make up for part of her ineptitude due to lackey practice with strength while her opponent remained weak from the long winter. No; it must just be bad luck today, that she was coming off worse than this other mare.
For she was worse off, flesh hanging off her shoulder in a gruesome frown, still connected to by shredded pieces of black hair and twisted red muscle. Thin, shallow lacerations had dominated her lower legs, and each step caused her to wince, her breathing becoming shallow and fast. Lastly, the bruise on her left foreleg made each step lame. Still, she fought, if only for the desperate hope to redeem herself against the pretty mare who stood with those golden eyes.
Even her ivories scraping off the hair of those too-perfect ears did not make her happy. It was a weak victory when compared to how Illynx had detestably made her bleed by watching the rocks crumble.
A growl rumbles near to Confutatis' ear, a guttural grinding of rocks on rocks, and for an astonishing moment the wolf laughs, voice grating unpleasantly as her lips twitch into a flippant smirk of glee. Here was her opponent! They had something in common- they were just two growling bitches! Maybe we could fuck the world together, if she wanted. Then the skull-faced harlot was falling past her opponent, forehooves planted firmly in the falling scree, hind hooves slipping underneath her body, and then something pierces deep into her right hindquarter, a something that is, no doubt, a glittering, sharp horn of imperious gold. In fact, the horn actually knocks off the locked vertebrae of her armor, rendered useless and unable to transform into full size due to the endless darkness, and slices drives a perfectly circular hole through the top-most of her croup. Pain bursts from the wound, singular but mighty in its ability to hinder her, heat pulsing through her once-perky ass as blood immediately begins to flow with the steady rate of her heart. Then, the horn is wrenched from her backside, perhaps from the gravity, tearing off more of her precious skin and leaving a peculiarly shaped, deep line (at this rate, it appears she will not have any hair left.)
She howls like the wolf she is, shrieking in the detestable pain.
Suddenly Confutatis reeks of fear, a most unbecoming and unlikely on a veteran such as herself. Too many times she could remember horrific things happening to soldiers out on a battle-field with wounds this deep; surviving only to leak their life's force until they sank to their knees, head bowing and eyes glazing.
And out of the blue her forehooves catch onto a tree nearly buried in rubble, having half-fallen before being stuck on, surprise, more debris. The wood is an unusual surface beneath her feet, cracked bark, but it is old and it groans beneath her. Hoping the mare having had followed her to try and attempt to drive her out, Confutatis peers upwards, shadows flickering through the dust. Finding one that seems a little more stronger, she calls out to the mare, wherever she may be. "Let me speak to you! There is something I know that might be of interest to you!" And now... would the other mare halt?
Please do not roll for this post anyone!
CONFUTATIS
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Breaking Laws and Challenging Unbreakables [Challenge - Illynx]
