Later Andras will look down and see blood on the white of his ankle--not much, just a spattering like it hadn't happened at all. Later he will recall the loud boom of his magic erupting, the sound like thunder that races down his leg and out toward the stands. He'll remember the air shifting, like he himself warped time and space to make it so.
But this will be later, much later, because after get to your feet there is no thought left in him that is not that singing rage, the war drum of his heart that pounds in the back of his head, and his throbbing wing, and the roar of the crowd overhead.
He must look like an unholy thing, in rising arcs of lightning that seem to suck the light out of the desert as they fork off his body and buzz like an amp. He is all teeth and lightning as Zayir rolls to his feet just after Andras. There is no room to breathe between them, no room for Andras to see the blood on Zayir's nose or the way that their angers meet each other in a crack just as loud within him as any trick he could pull without. Before Andras can move Zayir lurches back with his head still full of static and Andras ducks in to meet it.
The warden has no fear to spare for a desert soldier. He has only pain, and joy, and that boundless rage, and it has only ever told him to fight, relentlessly, and at any cost.
So he does. Because, though it is small, the possibility that Zayir might not chase him down with teeth and hoof and that spattering blood is somehow so much worse than anything else. And he is blind with it.
The hooves come down first, one that scrapes down his shoulder and stings as it does and the other that flings itself over his neck, then the teeth that close over the nape of his neck. Something between a shriek and a snarl wracks its way out of him along with the blood that seeps out around Zayir's teeth and the deep purple bruise that will follow. Suddenly he is all pain--in his wing, in his shoulder (though already dulling), in his neck, in his throat because he is still screaming, or roaring.
Andras also does not wait. Even as Zayir's teeth are on his neck Andras opens his neck and ducks his head (and there is more pain, so much more pain, as skin drags away from teeth, but all it does is make the song louder, and louder, and louder), and even as Zayir is still draped over Andras his hind legs bunch and spring in the soldier's direction, hurling the full force of his weight, the bony legs, the feral teeth, aided by a flap of his wings that kicks sand up behind him.
And Andras is still screaming when he twists midair, and is still screaming when he lands, blind with anger, and pain, and the magic that rolls off him in blue, buzzing waves.
For a moment the stands are quiet. They wondered, for a moment, why Delumine's warden would fight like a dog.
They are not wondering, now.
i am being perfectly fucking civil
Summary: Andras very quickly loses control of himself, and the lightning around him grows along with his anger, but while it's an exciting show it's largely intangible. He stands up from his last attacks as Zayir does, and as Zayir rears Andras makes the questionable decision to lean into the attack rather than block or avoid it. The results are predictable: Zayir hooks one leg over his neck as intended (and because of this the other skims the shoulder closest to Zayir but doesn't hurt after the initial smack) and bites Andras on the back of the neck. Also predictably, this makes Andras scream, or snarl, or laugh, or roar, or maybe all of the above; he is still screaming when he rips his neck out of Zayir's grasp and jumps up in Zayir's direction, using extra propulsion from flapping his wings, in an attempt to tackle/body slam him into the ground. The crowd is suitably uncomfortable with his lack of composure.
Attack Used: 2
Attack(s) Left: 0
Block Used: 0
Block(s) Left: 1
Item(s) Used: N/A
Response Deadline: 7/15/
Tags: @zayir, @Sid, @inkbone, @nestle, @
