[private] and in my dreams i've kissed your lips a thousand times // Wolfbane

[Kagerus]

Kagerus

{ and in my dreams I've kissed your lips a thousand times }

In the real world, the dreamweaver twitches and snarls, ears shuddering to and fro though no sounds in her neck of the forest can be heard. Bruises form beneath the first layers of her skin, blood pooling and begging to be released over the mahogany and bone of her fur coat. It would make them even, to bleed, wouldn't it? It would make things right.

As Wolfbane evades the worst of the damage from my talons, a shriek looses itself from my throat, birdlike and angry. A roar of his own replies to mine, lionlike and powerful in the breadth of his chest; I snarl and snap my teeth at his show of aerial finesse, pulling a stunt I could never hope to given my inexperience with flight.

In the heat of the moment (all too literally, I'm about to find out) I loosen my grasp on the dream, giving him leeway over what shall and shall not be. When I see the stallion erupt in flames, the more sensible part of me slaps her palm to her face and groans. That's literally exactly how my grandmother's best friend Scorch wound up ugly and mutilated and hairless, by dreaming herself on fire out of pure confidence and foolishness. Quietly, I dream the Loessian king fire-proof; he'll thank me later when he wakes up with his fur still intact.

Of course, this leaves me the perfect target for the angry pegasus; and it's a moment too late when I realize he's launched flaming projectile my way. Portals open in front of me, but not quite in time; two projectiles find their mark on my breast one after the other. The flames sear off my fur, and the pain of it in my dream is magnified by the pain of it in reality. Snarling, I maneuver the portals in such a way that Wolfbane's projectiles fly back at him, adding insult to injury should they find their mark. And these projectiles I make sure to not make him impervious to.

As our volcanic battle wages on in the heavens, gravity practically nonexistent, thunder crashes - and in its wake, a thunderous voice:

"Make haste, gladiators, for your time here runs short."

Hurling a lightning bolt in Wolfbane's direction, I scream my last in defiance, knowing that the dream will shortly be over.

@[Wolfbane] I figure that kag's next post will be mostly dialogue, if you want to wrap up the fighting portion? They can stay in the dream to talk, it'll just be too weak a link to support this kind of insanity lmao.