[AW] threnody

[Avdotya]

A V D O T Y A SHE WAITS; SEETHING, BLOOMING. The chaos of the battle left a sour taste on Avdotya's tongue. She remembered now why rarely dabbled in group combat; without perfect coordination, it lacked the efficiency she was able to achieve independently. Quick and clean was the mare's style (except, perhaps, when she intended to draw out a victim's suffering) and this was far from that. Of course, this was no simple brawl, and she was more than willing to suffer personal displeasure for the potential benefits that could become of her efforts. Personal displeasure, however, was the least of her concern right now. In the midst of the fray, the massive bird seemed to grow tired of their frenzy. The sound that spilled from its beak left her with ears flat and eyes narrowed, effectively distracting her from the oncoming smack of its powerful wings. Avdotya may have been behind the teryr, but she was well within reach of its back-swing and the impact was more than enough to thrust her down into the sand. It took a moment for her to collect herself after such a blow, but once she gathered what just happened, she was quick to leap to her feet. Her ribs protested, sure to be bruised from the force, though the pain was dismissed when the distinct sound of her name broke though the dusty air. The woman turned her head to find Maxence somehow atop the bird, positioned perfectly to deliver a fatal blow... if armed with the proper weapon. Avdotya's eyes darted to the sand in desperate search of her spear, yet the dust that kicked up made it near-impossible to find when its very colour matched that of the desert itself. Near-impossible. In a moment of great mental focus, the mare summoned what minimal magic she possessed, and took hold of the particles that swam around her. They dropped like heavy boulders to the ground and enabled her to pinpoint the sharpened tip of her spear poking out from the beneath sand. She lunged for it, grabbing a mouthful of grit as she did so, and then propelled herself into a gallop to permit the forceful throw of the weapon directly up to Maxence. "You better be a damn good catcher." She muttered to herself after releasing it, watching intently now from the ground below. All it took was a well-placed blow to the back of the head and this battle was over... and she just had to hope the painted stallion did not destroy her beloved spear in the process. don't u break her spear @maxence

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