THE ELDER TERYR
The woman who had left permenant damage to his tail now stood at a distance from the fray, her attention on the hooting paint at his whither, and so still she remained the least of his concern. The palomino was now marching forward with naught but bravery and malintent etched upon her stoney countenance, a bloodlust only to be satisfied until she began ripping at the beasts wings. And then there was that great behmoth who had taken it upon himself to slam all four of those boulder-like hooves into his wing, earning a shriek from the quarried monster as he attempted to drag the wounded limb out from under him, skipping upon his haunches away from the brute who had surely broken feathers from skin and tendons from bone. Now the nuisance upon his neck was shrieking himself and that did nothing but boil the Teryr's confidence. They were panicking it would seem. But not for long; that flea upon his back was soon to deal the worst blow of all. CRACK! - it sounded like lightning. An old spear shaft and tip was lifted up through the beast's skin with a forceful step from the paint. SNAP! An arrowhead was wrenched from it's resting place. The pain was excruciating, the blood loss extreme, and as the beast shook his worst betrayed from his hackles it took only a few moments for him to turn his sights back upon the fallen warrior. Stamping across the barren earth, each claw chinking over the rock, the Teryr gained on Maxence with a waning ease. In only four steps the raptor was upon him, teeth bared and a growl erupting from his throat. Blinded by fury, by bloodlust, by hunger, the Elder Teryr scarcely noticed the spear raised toward his mouth. Not even seconds before the beast lunged in to take his trophy the weapon was slung forth with all the precision and strength it's wielder could muster, and it glided straight into the silken palette of it's quarry. There was almost noe sound at first; the roaring ceased immediately as the spear was sent shooting directly into brain. All that came next was a death rattle, the gargle of death and the clash of the fall. The Teryr was dead. At the heights of the canyon his body lay, skull lurking on the edge of the canyon's largest cliff. Here it would stay for the century to come; a reminder to all who came and went that solterrans were not to be trifled with. BOOM. say yer goodbyes everybody this is one beasty down!
Thanks so much for participating everyone, this was such a fun thread!
ALL SHALL FADE
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