Thunder claps like an angry lion in the churning skies above Calligo’s stormsinger and Solis’ Warden. She is a flurry of rage and storms eternal — a mistress of tempests that churn and burst from the cage of her blood and bones. He moves in anticipation to her rage, his shoulder meeting with her open mouth. Her teeth do not find the precious vein where his head ends and neck begins, but instead they pull apart the skin of his thick shoulder. Blood wells into her mouth, greedy as her momentum pulls her downward, staining her lips red. Aislinn licks her lips, tasting the wine and bliss of his blood spilled into her mouth. Snow blizzards and whips against her stinging sides, violent as icy winds tear at her. But still, she does not relent. Her rage burns, wicked and cruel. They collide in a tangle of rage and blinding anger. Where she is Calligo’s comet, her throat tasting of the salt and brine of her coming storm, he is a wall of unforgiving stone. His brute stature stops her — suddenly and without an ounce of remorse. A grunt slips from her lips, and it is not the song of her hurricanes that she expected. Torstein’s body barrels into her and she gasps, hating the sound of her surprise at it leaves her mouth. Desperately, her hooves dig into the slippery earth, finding sheets of ice hidden beneath the disturbed blankets of white. Her balance is thrown off kilter in her attempt to rip open the soft spot of his throat and spill his life blood on the snow. She begins to crash, wild and seething. If she falls, she will drag him to hell with her. Thunder rumbles as the grey expanse of clouds churns and darkens like a newborn bruise. Her forward weight has become her enemy, pulling her violently to the earth. In answer, the Warden continues ever forward, driving her into the ground. His weight bares down on her, haunches giving despite her strains to drive her weight beneath her again. But she fails — slipping on the snow. Shocks of white rip her lips open where her teeth bites her cry, for she refuses to allow an ounce of false victory to a snake. His words are bone-white teeth gnawing her insides, but still she does not bend nor fold. She will. Not. Break. Never forget how your ego.. She thrashes, a tangle of hooves and legs slipping on the snow that builds and blinds her. The skies swallow them in shadow as violet storms swirl above where they stand. ..your secret lust for the approval of others.. Flashes of ivory sizzle behind the curtain of darkness above them, illuminating the snowflakes that fall like shining stars. Aislinn heaves, attempting to stand, her mouth cracking open in a snarl. ..was your downfall, stormsinger. Electricity burns and dances across her skin, tangling in her hair. Her eyes bore into blood rubies, marking them, targeting them with every touch of her fury. The sky opens up as she sucks in icy crystals of winter cold. "No." And then lightning showers all around them, her throat humming her cursed song. @Torstein oh shit oh shit oh shit (also I’m so sorry for the wait babe) TL;DR Aislinn takes the hit as Tor barrels into her. Her weight off balance, she tumbles and slips on the ground of wet snow. It is up to Tor if he pins her, restraining her movement. She sings, lightning showering down in answer, 100% trying to electrocute Torstein. "Aislinn speech." |
