POSTED WITH JEKYLL'S CONSENT.
His hooves connected against the hard stone of the rock outcroppings, a distinctive and intimidating CRACK ringing through the air upon first impact, and a surge of pain electrified his nerves and jolted along his spine. Joints bent beneath the force of impact as they attempted to absorb some of the shock, and immediately he swung his front half to the right as the figure retreated.
"You cowardly little bitch," came the growl, low and predatory, as it rolled from his throat. Anger seethed out of his pores, practically dripped from his eyes, and the reverbrating snort that ripped through his nostrils attested to his anger. "You want war?" came the snarl, volume steadily increasing as he gained traction again on the slippery, moss-covered rocks.
"I WILL SHOW YOU WAR," was the bellow, and his haunches coiled as muscles tightened and then flung him forward. Hooves left the ground as he lept forward, the snakeish figure of the unknown attempting to make his get-away on the beach.
But Tor would not let him escape, not with his blood still within his veins. No, it would be SPLATTERED all over the walls, over the sand; he would ensure that it would flood his throat before he saw the briny depths of the Terminus like he tried to fate Araxes to.
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The figure briefly regretted his decision, but he trusted his ability to run faster than the behemoth stallion. Hooves slapped the wet sand, and he only got roughly twenty feet before something just underneath the sand's surface caught his hoof and sent him stumbling. Breath hitched in his throat, and he stared back over his shoulder hastily as the larger stallion gained upon him much faster than he expected. Thinking quickly, he got back to his feet and contemplated a split-second decision... the stallion was large, and his momentum would likely be very hard to stop in a quick moment. Maybe he could turn his path back around, and dash past the stallion... maybe even kick the spotted whore into the sea itself on his way past.
He was sure if he could accomplish that, the large brute would be too preoccupied trying to pull her from the salty sea, and he could escape.. in his mind, it sounded like a solid plan, and so as the Solterran Warden approached, the lithe and much smaller stallion quickly turned and attempted to dart past him.
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Crimson eyes lit up as he watched the smaller stallion try and pull a quick one on him. But Tor, even large as he was, was no stupid giant.. and as the little cowardly snake tried to slip past him, Tor swung his head down and lurched himself slightly to the left.
The strangled cry that ripped from the other's throat brought a sick smile to the plum stallion's lips. Crimson, coppery blood sprayed down the crest of his neck as his razor-sharp crown of horns found perch, piercing the stallion's ribs underneath his elbow. Tor felt the other's chest hitch and a gurgled gasp oozed from his pained throat. Sweet honey to his tea.
And truth be told, Tor was quite surprised how small this stallion really was - right about Araxes' height and weight, if he was good at gauging. Thankfully, it made his decisions easy in the end.
The Warden's hooves had already skidded into the soft sand by now, slowing his traction as the muscles in his neck tightened and bunched, preparing themselves. Haunches slid underneath him and he gathered all his weight there, and then lurched his upper body into the air - the unnamed stallion still speared onto his horns. Neck strained, outstretched, and his head flung backwards - heaving the smaller stallion back over him and towards the cliff's walls.
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SKIP DOWN TO THE GREEN TEXT IF YOU DISLIKE OR ARE MADE UNCOMFORTABLE BY GORE.
With a sickening thud as skin met rock and a splintering crack as ribs and bones shattered, the smaller stallion cried out. Ears had buried themselves back against his head in petrified fear, almost lost in the sweaty mess of his own mane. He had miscalculated his attempt at escape, and he already knew he was doomed - the larger stallion's rage and anger was more well known than he cared to admit.
Wide eyes stared up at the approaching stallion, blood pouring out of the gaping wound under his elbow and rib-cage. It had just barely missed his heart, those long tines - "Please!" came the pleading, his legs kicking into the sand as he tried to sidle away from the larger Warden, and press himself closer to the rocks. If he could meld with them, he would. "I wasn't going to kill her," he gasped, voice cracking, "I was just trying to scare her! A veiled threat!"
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Tor's war-worn hooves met the sand in a thump, and blood soaked the crest of his neck and crown of his head. It dripped down his forehead, stained his cream, mottled fur, leaked into his eyes. But unblinking they stared, gaze transfixed on the coward before him as he slowly turned to him. "Oh?" came the whisper, teeth gritting. "That's good, at least..." he trailed off, slowly approaching the stallion that lay slumped before him. His head lowered to eye-level with him, let the stallion stare into eyes the color of the blood that soaked the sand.
"But I'll ensure you never touch her again," came the whisper into the stallion's ear. In a split-second motion, Tor's teeth clasped around the tender little ear of his captive, biting down hard until he could feel the cartilage cracking. Head jerked away, and blood splattered onto his face as he ripped the thing clean off the stallion's head - eliciting a pain-filled, piercing scream into the air.
Spitting out the useless thing onto the sand, Tor's eyes boiled and he stared at the sobbing stallion. This little piece of shit was so ready, so sure of what he was doing... until the Warden arrived and he realized how deep the dog-shit hole he was buried in really was.
"SCREAM," came the roar; intimidating, fierce, raw. Tor's head swiftly tucked to his chest as he lurched forward, the tines of his horn pointed at a more deadly location. Into his throat and through his mouth they pierced, ripping through tender skin and muscle til they pierced through the other side. They may have missed the brain - Tor's intention - but oh, the damage they did was grievously mortal... although it was not nearly as swift a death as he knew the stallion wanted.
And scream the stallion did - it was painful, raw, fear-laced and primal. Tor felt a twinge in his gut - not of guilt, oh no not at all.. instead, the scream roused a primal lust within him. A lust for utter dominance, and Tor would be lying to himself if he didn't say that he felt arousal from it.
He felt the muscle yield, felt the blood from them spill out onto his horns and fully soak his head. He could hear the gurgle, so sickeningly sweet.. but he was not done with him, not yet. He would torture him like the maggot had tortured his little bird.. and he would die on this beach, staked to the wall for all to see.
Tilting his head to the left and following the momentum he was building, Tor swing his body in a circle with the stallion still pierced upon his tines. He came back around to the cliff wall again after having done a half-circle, and abruptly stopped - effectively flinging the stallion from his tines once again, blood splattering across his pelt and onto the wall from the stallion's split throat. The WHACK that resounded from him hitting the stone was bone-shattering, and a heaving gurgle lurched from the injured stallion's throat... Tor was no longer sure exactly which bones were breaking.
But by the time he was done, all of them would be.
And so he approached the stallion again, who stared at him with wild, rolling eyes but was no longer able to vocalize anything beyond gurgles and pitiful sobs. Tor saw the gaping hole in his neck, watched blood fill it and spill out, just as the tears streamed down his disgusting cheeks and flooding his swollen his eyes. Watched his bones crest out of his skin in splintered shards, his chest hitch and roll with his dying breaths.
The Warden's chest was heaving, and he was coated in blood. No longer could you see any remainder of the subtle shade of cream on his crest and neck, but instead it was now a vibrant shade of death - akin to the very color that boiled in his eyes. "You regret the decision, don't you?" came the seething whisper, ears pinning back to his bloodied mane as his head snaked down and towards the stallion. The stallion, who even on his death bead, tried desperately to move his broken legs and push himself further away from the encroaching Warden. "It's too late now, isn't it?" came the snarl, and his head lunged forward. It grasped the stallion at the throat, right at the edge of the wound, and within his teeth he grasped the broken, mangled skin, flesh, and muscle. And with a swift yank downwards, he ripped it even further, splitting his gullet, muscle and skin all the way from his throat down towards his chest.
The stallion's chest hitched and his body spasmed as a scream tried to pierce the air.. but all he got was a pitiful gurgle as blood swashed up his torn (and now fully exposed) esophagus and poured out, salting his wounds even further. "Pity," Tor spat, skin and flesh hanging between his teeth, "Your screams were almost as good as sex."
A large hoof pressed down on a foreleg, and the sickening snap elicited another lurch and spasm. "I should have broken them while you could still make any semblance of a sound other than a gurgle," he mused. The stallion was still conscious.. but for how long? That didn't stop him from breaking every fucking bone in his body. Hooves, now bloodied (and stains that would never be fully cleaned from within the splintered cracks) struck out and broke every bone in his leg and slashed his skin, eliciting sobs, gurgles, and more spasms. "Pity!" came the roar, as Tor's teeth found hold on the nape of his neck, holding the stallion still as a large, bloodied leg lifted further into the air. "I'd love to have heard your scream as I-" punctuated by the massive hoof slamming down on the middle of the stallion's back, followed by a sickening crunch as vertebrae gave way, "break the back of such a worthless maggot!"
The Warden watched the stallion's muscles spasm and seize, tighten and release. Some of the maggot's last blood poured out of his esophagus and onto his own chest and down the sand, soaking deep into the soil.. only to be washed away by the Terminus Sea. And as the stallion lay dying on the sands, Tor turned away.
On the ground beside him, as if waiting, was exactly what the plum stallion was looking for... a small but sturdy piece of driftwood. He manipulated the stout little piece, and turned back to the maggot that lay dying before him. Eyes of the smaller stallion rolled up to the Warden, still wide with fright even in his dying moments. "I'll say... I'm impressed you haven't already passed out," he mused, approaching him again. "But it's OK. I'll make sure you can't see what I've done to you," he purred, and swiftly stabbed the driftwood into the maggot's eyes. The smaller stallion's body lurched as Tor literally pulled each of his eyes from his sockets... leaving them to dangle down his cheekbones while never detaching the nerves. "Oops," came the chuckle. "Seems I'm no good at this, huh?"
And it was then that the maggot of a stallion, the coward piece of shit, heaved his last breath. Maybe the adrenaline had kept him alive for so long (such a sick torture... your body keeping you alive when it certainly knows you're going to die).. and Tor was quite thankful for the opportunity.
But he was not done, oh no. Even though the stallion was dead, Tor would ensure the Terminus did not sweep his body away. He did not deserve such peaceful ends.
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The Warden, his whole upper body drenched in blood from crown to hoof (and the rest of his hide splattered in it like some sort of morbid, modern abstract painting) instead turned, and surveyed the cliff-side. Blood red eyes camouflaged beneath the stained red of his fur saw, just above the water level, a few branches of a sturdy tree that had rooted itself in the cliff-side. A morbid smile twinged at the corner of his lips, and Tor stood underneath the tree. It was well within his reach, just at eye level... And so the Warden perched his blood-soaked hooves upon the cliff and fully stripped all the branches away from it, leaving nothing but the jagged trunks, which Tor quickly whittled into sharp points with his own teeth and help from the telekinesis.
When he was satisfied that the trunks were firm in their hold and sharp enough to pierce flesh, Tor returned back to the limp, crushed body of the maggot. Out of anger, a hoof struck out at his head, cracking the skull of a being who would no longer fight back. The lack of response was sickeningly dissatisfying, if he was honest..
But he would finish the job. And a mixture of simmering anger and adrenaline would help him perch the dead body on the crown of his head and his horns, and lift his body up to the trunks... and spear the maggot's rib-cage. There he would rest eternally, above the water-level that Terminus reached, for all to see as his broken legs and mangled body dangled - a warning.
And Tor stepped back, his rage simmering down from bloodlust and slowly ebbing into concern.
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Summary of above: Tor tortured/killed the assailant, and then speared him onto sharp tree-trunks in the cliff-side for all those who pass by to see as a warning.
His eyes darted back towards the outcropping of rock where Araxes lay, and his chest tightened. She didn't seem to be moving.
And just like that, he rushed back over to her, his muzzle pressing into her bruised cheekbone. "My little bird," he whispered, warm breath on her skin - almost as warm as the other's blood that was now smearing her own fur.
"Little bird, can you stand?" He laid in front of her, chest still heaving as he nudged her, hoping dearly that she'd wake up. His mind rushed... he needed to get her back to someplace that could care for her. He wanted to bring her back to Solterra, but that was a week's trek in their state... but if he arrived at the Night Court looking like this, carrying a bruised and battered little bird, what would the bats think? The worst?
"We need to get you home..."
chest cavity: closed // words: 2505 // headshot
@Araxes o-o
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I have three eyes
TWO TO LOOK ONE TO SEE
