Inkheart
JUST LIKE FIRE, BURNING OUT THE WAY
IF I CAN LIGHT THE WORLD UP FOR
JUST ONE DAY WATCH THIS MADNESS
COLORFUL CHARADE NO ONE CAN
BE JUST LIKE ME ANYWAY
IF I CAN LIGHT THE WORLD UP FOR
JUST ONE DAY WATCH THIS MADNESS
COLORFUL CHARADE NO ONE CAN
BE JUST LIKE ME ANYWAY
Her lids flutter open, slowly revealing her dazed gold orbs. At first all is dark - her lids open but she sees nothing. Slowly her vision returns, the light refracting to show her surroundings. But she can barely make sense of what she sees. Dust swirls around her and she coughs, trying to clear her nostrils and lungs. Screeching fills her ears, the cries of battle echo around her. She glances up to see the Teryr flailing above her, defending against her fellow herd members, and dealing blows in return. Of course she cannot tell that she has taken the worst hit of them all.
The inked mare tears her gaze away from the sight and focuses away from the battle. As she tries to struggle to her feet, she feels a horrible pain in her right front leg, and she can't lift herself. Her wings flap awkwardly like a downed baby bird as she scrambles to all four. She hops away from the battle, unable to put weight on that leg, pain shooting through her. Tears burn in her eyes, a natural reaction to the pangs of pain surging through her. Feathers support her movement, and with difficulty she turns around to glance back at the battle.
WHOOSH!
The wings of the strange beast known to them as a Teryr are flying through the air, accompanied by an almighty screech. Inkheart's own cry - a mixture of surprise, alarm, and pain - joins the chaos and she's hit again by the beast. The wing scrapes against her left side, leaving a ragged gash that cuts across mid-shoulder to the middle of her ribcage, just below her wing. Luckily those appendages granted by the Gods catch her as she's thrust back, beating hard to keep her upright. Blood drips down her jet black coat, and the air sends searing pain against her fresh wound.
"FOR FUCK'S SAKE!" She howls in pain and fresh rage at how she's so far been rendered completely inept and impotent in this battle. With another cry, this one with the force of intention, she leaps forward (or rather flies foreward), teeth bared so that perhaps she can at least rip the skin from the beast, even if she can't use her legs. Her pearly whites aim for the juncture between its neck and wing, adrenaline and endorphins fueling her. Revenge is the only thing on her mind, and she WILL have it.
Inkheart is back in the fight! Sorta. Her attack won't be very strong ;)
