01-12-2020, 07:03 PM
<center><img src="https://orig00.deviantart.net/8700/f/2018/016/6/0/ana3_by_the_renegade-dc07g0m.png"><table bgcolor=050301 style="border-color: black; border-width: 0px; border-style: solid; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: -145px" cellspacing=30 cellpadding=30 width=600><tr><td><p align=justify><font face=times new roman color=453c29><font style=font-size:9pt;line-height:12pt;letter-spacing:1px><font style=letter-spacing:3px><center><Font color=7d6c4b><i>YOU CAN HEAR WHEN THE HEART STOPS.</i></font></font> </center><p align=justify>
The shadowmare watches as the dome appears around what she now understands to be an Arena. She is at ease in this place, and the challenge before her is one she welcomes openly. Her attachments are few - and there were significantly more in her past than in her present.
And then an opponent materializes. She recognizes the shape that appears between the pillars. <i>Cronus</i>. Her eldest son. The heir that continued her legacy. One of the few that had solidified a place in her heart. Yet, she could see the bloodlust in his gaze. A smirk crawled across her lips in response. He would be a formidable foe.
<B> “Do your worst, Son,”</b> she murmurs - an emotionless challenge to her chosen son. But the flames have burst into light behind her eyes, and she allows the fire to consume her too. Surrender, after so many decades of composure, feels <i>incredible</i>.
She doesn’t break her gaze from her yellow-eyed son’s, and with no prompting - he charges. Anaxarete shifts her wings at her sides reflexively. She judges the height between herself and the top of the dome, but remains grounded. Cronus nears now, she can hear his breath coming in angry puffs. She readies herself.
Anaxarete is not stronger than her son, so she has to be smart. In this instance, she will have to use his own momentum against him. She feigned to the left before leaping to the right, dragging the claw at the tip of her wing down her son’s side. Cronus reacts accordingly, dragging his teeth down her hindquarters a she passes by. The shadowmare grits her teeth as the bite draws blood. The smell of blood is thick in the air. She relishes in it - especially here, of all places.
Before Cronus can turn, she extends the thick black wings and is airborne - causing a great storm of dry sediment as she took to the air. She doesn’t climb high - only high enough to stay out of reach of her son. She is careful to make sure she doesn’t come near the edge of the dome, circling back and gaining speed through the turn to line herself perpendicular to her son. With no warning, she dives straight for Cronus’s barrel. Broken ribs weren’t fatal, but they hurt like a real bitch in battle. She used her legs as a battering ram, pleased when the concussion of contact vibrated up into her core. The momentum was enough to knock Cronus off his feet. He bellowed with the impact, wincing as the bones beneath his flesh cracked. Anaxarete’s feet again found earth as she whirled around to face him. But Cronus had already found his footing, the pain didn’t seem to register as he bolted towards his mother.
She knew she didn’t have time to escape to the air, so she leapt into motion so as to lessen his accuracy by wearing away some of his momentum. She kept the wings tucked to her sides - knowing that the same attack wouldn’t work twice on her son. Instead, she kept the wings wrapped around her sides like a shield. Wings were useful, but not essential to battle...to survival. Cronus reared up before her - poised to strike. Anaxarete saw her opportunity. She launched herself forward, directly into his right leg. Her aim did not need to be precise, for all his weight was already on his hind legs. He roared as she made contact, shifting and dropping her forelegs on the wing tucked against his side.
Bones snapped. The pain was instantaneous. But it was Cronus who crumpled to the ground. Anaxarete’s right wing hung limply at her side - dragging along the dusty earth. The stakes were even now - for this injury grounded her. She gritted her teeth as the pain ripped through her - only mitigated by the adrenaline of battle.
Cronus staggered to his feet, favoring his right hind to the point where he was almost non weight bearing, dragging his toe along the cracked earth. However the bloodlust had consumed him to the point where he refused to stop - refused to admit he was beaten. His head snaked out - teeth bared. It was foolish - driven by instinct and an unwillingness to back down. He was going for her face, her neck, any part of her where his teeth could find purchase. Anaxarete screamed with pain as she tucked the broken wing to her side, pivoting on her front legs and kicking out with her hinds towards her son’s head.
She felt the impact. She felt the collision with the earth as his body hit the bloodsoaked earth. She looked down upon her son - his breathing coming in ragged gasps, blood streaming from his side and the corners of his mouth.
Sentiment is difficult for the shadowmare, especially when one possesses a heart of ice and stone. <b> “You fought well, Son. I’m proud of you,”</b> she says, cooly, staring down at her his broken body. He says nothing in response, only a sick, gurgling sound escapes his lips. She turns then - leaving him to bleed out among the bloodstained plains, turning her back on his bloodstained body.
She then turns her gaze skyward - looking for something, anything - before another twisted smile claimed her dark lips. <b>“What now?”</b> she asked the void, ignoring the sounds of pain and death coming from her child strewn across the ground behind her.
<center><font style=letter-spacing:3px><Font color=7d6c4b>- A N A X A R E T E -
been there, done that</font></font></table><a href="http://the-renegade.deviantart.com">image credit</a> </center></center>
The shadowmare watches as the dome appears around what she now understands to be an Arena. She is at ease in this place, and the challenge before her is one she welcomes openly. Her attachments are few - and there were significantly more in her past than in her present.
And then an opponent materializes. She recognizes the shape that appears between the pillars. <i>Cronus</i>. Her eldest son. The heir that continued her legacy. One of the few that had solidified a place in her heart. Yet, she could see the bloodlust in his gaze. A smirk crawled across her lips in response. He would be a formidable foe.
<B> “Do your worst, Son,”</b> she murmurs - an emotionless challenge to her chosen son. But the flames have burst into light behind her eyes, and she allows the fire to consume her too. Surrender, after so many decades of composure, feels <i>incredible</i>.
She doesn’t break her gaze from her yellow-eyed son’s, and with no prompting - he charges. Anaxarete shifts her wings at her sides reflexively. She judges the height between herself and the top of the dome, but remains grounded. Cronus nears now, she can hear his breath coming in angry puffs. She readies herself.
Anaxarete is not stronger than her son, so she has to be smart. In this instance, she will have to use his own momentum against him. She feigned to the left before leaping to the right, dragging the claw at the tip of her wing down her son’s side. Cronus reacts accordingly, dragging his teeth down her hindquarters a she passes by. The shadowmare grits her teeth as the bite draws blood. The smell of blood is thick in the air. She relishes in it - especially here, of all places.
Before Cronus can turn, she extends the thick black wings and is airborne - causing a great storm of dry sediment as she took to the air. She doesn’t climb high - only high enough to stay out of reach of her son. She is careful to make sure she doesn’t come near the edge of the dome, circling back and gaining speed through the turn to line herself perpendicular to her son. With no warning, she dives straight for Cronus’s barrel. Broken ribs weren’t fatal, but they hurt like a real bitch in battle. She used her legs as a battering ram, pleased when the concussion of contact vibrated up into her core. The momentum was enough to knock Cronus off his feet. He bellowed with the impact, wincing as the bones beneath his flesh cracked. Anaxarete’s feet again found earth as she whirled around to face him. But Cronus had already found his footing, the pain didn’t seem to register as he bolted towards his mother.
She knew she didn’t have time to escape to the air, so she leapt into motion so as to lessen his accuracy by wearing away some of his momentum. She kept the wings tucked to her sides - knowing that the same attack wouldn’t work twice on her son. Instead, she kept the wings wrapped around her sides like a shield. Wings were useful, but not essential to battle...to survival. Cronus reared up before her - poised to strike. Anaxarete saw her opportunity. She launched herself forward, directly into his right leg. Her aim did not need to be precise, for all his weight was already on his hind legs. He roared as she made contact, shifting and dropping her forelegs on the wing tucked against his side.
Bones snapped. The pain was instantaneous. But it was Cronus who crumpled to the ground. Anaxarete’s right wing hung limply at her side - dragging along the dusty earth. The stakes were even now - for this injury grounded her. She gritted her teeth as the pain ripped through her - only mitigated by the adrenaline of battle.
Cronus staggered to his feet, favoring his right hind to the point where he was almost non weight bearing, dragging his toe along the cracked earth. However the bloodlust had consumed him to the point where he refused to stop - refused to admit he was beaten. His head snaked out - teeth bared. It was foolish - driven by instinct and an unwillingness to back down. He was going for her face, her neck, any part of her where his teeth could find purchase. Anaxarete screamed with pain as she tucked the broken wing to her side, pivoting on her front legs and kicking out with her hinds towards her son’s head.
She felt the impact. She felt the collision with the earth as his body hit the bloodsoaked earth. She looked down upon her son - his breathing coming in ragged gasps, blood streaming from his side and the corners of his mouth.
Sentiment is difficult for the shadowmare, especially when one possesses a heart of ice and stone. <b> “You fought well, Son. I’m proud of you,”</b> she says, cooly, staring down at her his broken body. He says nothing in response, only a sick, gurgling sound escapes his lips. She turns then - leaving him to bleed out among the bloodstained plains, turning her back on his bloodstained body.
She then turns her gaze skyward - looking for something, anything - before another twisted smile claimed her dark lips. <b>“What now?”</b> she asked the void, ignoring the sounds of pain and death coming from her child strewn across the ground behind her.
<center><font style=letter-spacing:3px><Font color=7d6c4b>- A N A X A R E T E -
been there, done that</font></font></table><a href="http://the-renegade.deviantart.com">image credit</a> </center></center>