08-25-2021, 01:37 PM
all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was
There is more she might have said if his magic hadn’t weaved between her skeleton before seeping deep within them. She suddenly finds she cannot move, she is held still beneath the powerful grasp of magic that holds her bones in a vice grip. There is a ribbon of fear that threads between his magic, the common sense in her scolding and brutal. You knew better. You knew not to provoke him. You knew. Time seems to slow around them (more magic or just a restriction of air and blood flow?) as his muzzle hovers at her shoulder. The dark mare attempts a snarl but her jaw is locked tight and only some feral noise rumbles in her throat, unable to escape through pursed lips. The thread is lost beneath the storm of anger that rises (at her own foolishness, at him, at the world) as her starlit eyes spin until her pupils seem to vanish and her sockets are a wash of silver burning holes into his face beneath the darkening red of her glowing stars.
They only intensify as time speeds up and pain blossoms from the way she collides to the ground, unable to fight against the sticky tentacle suctioned around her neck. If looks could kill, Gale would be dead before that second tentacle wrapped around her wings but alas… He has all the magic that she lacks and instead she gives another feral noise, this one ringing in the air, as he releases her from his grip while snapping her wings at the same time. Her new feathery appendages droop at odd angles around her and even without looking back at them she knows that they slightly resemble the way her broken legs had been splayed before her.
There is no cooling her temper this time.
She doesn’t try to stand, not yet. Instead she simply turns her head up to him, that wrath swirling dark amongst the mercury. And grins, the adrenaline of the situation momentarily holding the pain from her broken bones and bruised side at bay. “Bolder isn’t a threat to me.” She had wanted to retort to that (of course he wasn’t, he was just a child at that was the point) but it’s his last words that she focuses on. “Is that what you think?” She laughs, an almost hysterical sound despite the cutting edge of it. He has stepped away and finally she rises off the ground, her broken wings still unfurled and dragging along the earth as she takes a shaky step towards him. Had something changed? He was clearly still quite powerful and yet she can't help but wonder when he hadn't held himself back last time. Maybe something had happened. Was he weaker away from the entities? Surely even his magic had a limit? She takes that glimmer of hope from her wild hazy thoughts and runs with it.
“I know you’ve died before. Twice.” She smiles at him even as the pain begins to intensify and throb from the places where her bones had yet again broken. “And I’m more than just my stars.” She throws his words back at him as she takes another shaky step towards him. Between the bloody hue of her stars, her oddly bent wings and heavily scarred body, and the eeriness of her shining wrathful eyes… She looks like a creature that had crawled out of hell itself. A dark broken angel of death. It is grasping at straws, this attempt of intimidation, but she has nothing left and she refuses to just let him win. Refuses to just lay down and willingly return to the empty void. “Third times the charm.” She whispers softly, solely focused on him and ignorant to everything and anyone else around them as she extends her muzzle as if to brush it lightly against his cheek like a tired over-worked mother trying to calm her petulant and naughty child.
They only intensify as time speeds up and pain blossoms from the way she collides to the ground, unable to fight against the sticky tentacle suctioned around her neck. If looks could kill, Gale would be dead before that second tentacle wrapped around her wings but alas… He has all the magic that she lacks and instead she gives another feral noise, this one ringing in the air, as he releases her from his grip while snapping her wings at the same time. Her new feathery appendages droop at odd angles around her and even without looking back at them she knows that they slightly resemble the way her broken legs had been splayed before her.
There is no cooling her temper this time.
She doesn’t try to stand, not yet. Instead she simply turns her head up to him, that wrath swirling dark amongst the mercury. And grins, the adrenaline of the situation momentarily holding the pain from her broken bones and bruised side at bay. “Bolder isn’t a threat to me.” She had wanted to retort to that (of course he wasn’t, he was just a child at that was the point) but it’s his last words that she focuses on. “Is that what you think?” She laughs, an almost hysterical sound despite the cutting edge of it. He has stepped away and finally she rises off the ground, her broken wings still unfurled and dragging along the earth as she takes a shaky step towards him. Had something changed? He was clearly still quite powerful and yet she can't help but wonder when he hadn't held himself back last time. Maybe something had happened. Was he weaker away from the entities? Surely even his magic had a limit? She takes that glimmer of hope from her wild hazy thoughts and runs with it.
“I know you’ve died before. Twice.” She smiles at him even as the pain begins to intensify and throb from the places where her bones had yet again broken. “And I’m more than just my stars.” She throws his words back at him as she takes another shaky step towards him. Between the bloody hue of her stars, her oddly bent wings and heavily scarred body, and the eeriness of her shining wrathful eyes… She looks like a creature that had crawled out of hell itself. A dark broken angel of death. It is grasping at straws, this attempt of intimidation, but she has nothing left and she refuses to just let him win. Refuses to just lay down and willingly return to the empty void. “Third times the charm.” She whispers softly, solely focused on him and ignorant to everything and anyone else around them as she extends her muzzle as if to brush it lightly against his cheek like a tired over-worked mother trying to calm her petulant and naughty child.
-- Ciri
@
Gale