10-18-2021, 09:13 AM
The satisfaction of landing a blow on her broad, hairy chest is quickly superseded by his desire to put distance between them. Given her height and heft as the prehistoric bear, the kick is barely enough to slow her down. To his surprise however, the simple attack appears to lead to something far more debilitating than the moderately annoying bruise his hooves might have imparted.
As much as he would like to claim he is the one who had sent her into an emotional spiral, he cannot. When he turns to face her again, she is in her familiar equine shape once more. Though only moments have passed, he can see memories rising as her emotions heighten into a toxic cocktail bent on destroying her from within.
If he were a better stallion, he would not even consider using the slurry of her worst memories to his advantage. But he is not a better stallion, even for those who have the misfortune of calling him friend.
She charges towards him where he stands facing her, blinded by tears rather than his machinations. It makes her uncharacteristically sloppy. It should delight him, but even he doesn’t have the heart to find humor in her misery. Instead he ducks to his left, pushing himself forward in an attempt to angle past her oncoming form. Her hasty strike clatters across the bones of his shoulder, jostling him so that blood seeps from where skin pulls against bone.
Reave executes his own attack as he slips past her, though it is not a physical one. He pulls at the memories swirling like acid around her, attempting to pluck forth the darkest images to send back to her in a barrage of guilt and grief and rage and agony. It’s a cruel tactic made crueler by the fact that she is not the same creature anymore as she had been back then. But Reave has no room for a conscience if he means to win.
He has always known his greatest strengths do not lie in his physical abilities. Not when he knows how easily memories can bring one to their knees as swiftly as physical pain can. Though he can never fully predict how someone might react to the emotion-laced scenes he draws forth, he hopes this would be enough to bring their fight to an end.
And, daft though it may be, he hopes Mazikeen will not hate him after this. He enjoys her friendship when she isn’t dreaming about tearing out his throat.
As much as he would like to claim he is the one who had sent her into an emotional spiral, he cannot. When he turns to face her again, she is in her familiar equine shape once more. Though only moments have passed, he can see memories rising as her emotions heighten into a toxic cocktail bent on destroying her from within.
If he were a better stallion, he would not even consider using the slurry of her worst memories to his advantage. But he is not a better stallion, even for those who have the misfortune of calling him friend.
She charges towards him where he stands facing her, blinded by tears rather than his machinations. It makes her uncharacteristically sloppy. It should delight him, but even he doesn’t have the heart to find humor in her misery. Instead he ducks to his left, pushing himself forward in an attempt to angle past her oncoming form. Her hasty strike clatters across the bones of his shoulder, jostling him so that blood seeps from where skin pulls against bone.
Reave executes his own attack as he slips past her, though it is not a physical one. He pulls at the memories swirling like acid around her, attempting to pluck forth the darkest images to send back to her in a barrage of guilt and grief and rage and agony. It’s a cruel tactic made crueler by the fact that she is not the same creature anymore as she had been back then. But Reave has no room for a conscience if he means to win.
He has always known his greatest strengths do not lie in his physical abilities. Not when he knows how easily memories can bring one to their knees as swiftly as physical pain can. Though he can never fully predict how someone might react to the emotion-laced scenes he draws forth, he hopes this would be enough to bring their fight to an end.
And, daft though it may be, he hopes Mazikeen will not hate him after this. He enjoys her friendship when she isn’t dreaming about tearing out his throat.