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
The dark woman was intent on severing the wing from the Teryr's body bit by bit, her teeth ripping into its disgusting hide, the muscles taught beneath. They were all attacking, all helping to defeat this monster. And based off the wounds that she had received, that several of them had received, it was painfully clear that everyone was needed to kill it. Out of the corner of her golden eye, she spotted Maxence above the beast, upon it, stamping on the old arrows and spearheads. The giant stallion attacking with all four hooves on the beast. Adrenaline rushed through her, and she could only hear her own pulse in her ears. A shout, something incoherent from Maxence. A war cry perhaps! She rips, nearly claws. Ears pinned, eyes fierce. A call again, this time it breaks through the haze surrounding her mind, her focus.
'RUN!' Maxence calls.
She tears again, then lifts her bloodied lips from the beast in time to see Maxence flung. Flung!! To the edge of the cliff. Inkheart feels a pang in her chest, the wind stolen from her in that moment. Their possible new leader lay on the precipice, not moving, and she wondered if he was broken, shattered and unable to rise. Her wings flapped hard in the heat, moving her away from the Elder Teryr. She was thankful she had for even under attack it moved toward Maxence, a predatory, satisfactory gleam in its eye. In horror she watched, fully expecting to see the painted warrior meet his end.
But so fast she almost missed it, he threw the spear at the Teryr. The point pierced tender hide, going deep through the skull and into its brain. The shaft barely sticks out from its lower jaw, a gruesome sight. The beast crumbles to the ground with a resounding thud. She lands upon the canyon plateau, careful to not put weight on her injured leg. Her crown turns toward the painted stallion, decorated in all his war gear.
He had proven himself.
