Trust me, you are nothing but another weak animal minding the strongest whip
The snow is stained red, the wine of his veins spilling down his shoulder and soaking his own ivory pelt. The pain was dulled, numbed by the adrenaline coursing through his veins, rapid and thrumming. It coated the endings of his nerves, the pulsations running through him in vapid waves that never ended. This was the sweet taste of boiling anger, of rage, of vengeance enacted.
The sweat-soaked skin of his chest met her own - met the gnashing of her teeth and the wild of her fire - the lightening of his nerves lighting up as the skies did around them.
"Did you forget your own words?" he purred into her ear, a voice seeming so soothing amongst the chaos.
"It's not safe to be alone with me," — words echoed so sick and so sweet, the smug smile dripping from his words. The Beast's muscles tensed and heaved so suddenly forward, the sweet lure of finally toppling the champion to the snow-slicked ground beneath them so tangible he could nearly taste it like nectar on his tongue.
And then the sky crashed around them.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The lightning arced from the roiling clouds in a magnificent display, lighting up the heavens. The streak crossed time and space in a millisecond, its silhouette jagged like a stalking predator — its feet finally touching the ground, claws digging into the age old soil, electric teeth gnashing and aching for a sweet conduit release with the deafening sound of a boom.
The anger of the skies above them may have misjudged, may have fallen short of its target by mere feet... but the electric predator was not easily thwarted. It raced through the soil — with its metals and minerals of age old, its pocketed dirt soaked in copper blood — like a jaguar on the heels of its prey. Arcing up through the soils, its teeth sunk into the heel of the Warden.
And like a rabbit taken into the mouth of its maker, muscles seized and blinding, white hot pain shot like fire through his veins. Ears ringing with static and white noise, crimson eyes rolled back into his head: for a moment, he saw only blankets of white where he had previously seen nothing but blood. His spine arched, his momentum halted, and his muscles tensed so tightly that his back hooves could not leave the ground if they wished. So firmly were they cemented to the ground that it felt like cinderblocks were tied to his feet, the smell of singed hair and burnt flesh filling his nostrils like smog.
For a moment, the stormsinger was spared. But only for a deafening moment: the contact of their sweat-soaked skin moments prior would be her downfall. The lightning was a cruel mistress, a blind predator that was only summoned but could not be controlled like a beaten dog. It would arc through the flesh and bones of the Warden and leap onto the stormsinger, sparing her only minimally less pain as its momentum slowly withered away the farther it leapt from the heavens. After all, the only thing that spared the Beast it sought was the misjudgment and its shortcoming..
It may have bought her precious moments, but when the electric predator took hold of her as she tumbled to the ground... would she be able to scramble to her feet in time, before the white noise faded from the eyes of the Beast and was replaced by white-hot anger?
No, he guessed she wouldn't.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
His anger would return tenfold, ombre ears slicked back to his sweat-soaked skin, disappearing into a tangled mess of hair. Teeth would gnash as a guttural noise would rip from his throat. "YOU THINK YOU HAVE IT IN YOU, STORMSINGER?" came the roar, voice raw and hoarse with rage. As she tumbled to the ground before him, the electric predator most likely taking hold and bringing her down even harder, his front hooves left the ground and his upper body heaved up towards the heavens.
Should she open her eyes — should the white noise and blankets of painful white snow leave her vision — she would see him above her. She'd see the dark skies boiling behind the white of his ivory skin, see the fury painted across his eyes, see the Third eye staring into her soul with its unending, erratic gaze.
She'd see the hooves, she'd see the intent. She'd witness how his weight fell — no, how he forced it down — and he knew she'd feel it in her gut. "Lets see you—" hooves nearly the size of her head fell "command the heavens—" onto the delicate bones of her right wing "—that you can no longer fly in." Rage, as white hot as the sun.
Never forget how your ego was your downfall, stormsinger.
The sweat-soaked skin of his chest met her own - met the gnashing of her teeth and the wild of her fire - the lightening of his nerves lighting up as the skies did around them.
"Did you forget your own words?" he purred into her ear, a voice seeming so soothing amongst the chaos.
With a stiff inhale, the Night King's chosen Champion of Battle stood her ground, raising her chin defiantly. Her ears flattened against her skull as her gaze flickered between them with obvious distrust. "You two should not be alone with them," she said through her teeth.
"It's not safe to be alone with me," — words echoed so sick and so sweet, the smug smile dripping from his words. The Beast's muscles tensed and heaved so suddenly forward, the sweet lure of finally toppling the champion to the snow-slicked ground beneath them so tangible he could nearly taste it like nectar on his tongue.
And then the sky crashed around them.
The lightning arced from the roiling clouds in a magnificent display, lighting up the heavens. The streak crossed time and space in a millisecond, its silhouette jagged like a stalking predator — its feet finally touching the ground, claws digging into the age old soil, electric teeth gnashing and aching for a sweet conduit release with the deafening sound of a boom.
The anger of the skies above them may have misjudged, may have fallen short of its target by mere feet... but the electric predator was not easily thwarted. It raced through the soil — with its metals and minerals of age old, its pocketed dirt soaked in copper blood — like a jaguar on the heels of its prey. Arcing up through the soils, its teeth sunk into the heel of the Warden.
And like a rabbit taken into the mouth of its maker, muscles seized and blinding, white hot pain shot like fire through his veins. Ears ringing with static and white noise, crimson eyes rolled back into his head: for a moment, he saw only blankets of white where he had previously seen nothing but blood. His spine arched, his momentum halted, and his muscles tensed so tightly that his back hooves could not leave the ground if they wished. So firmly were they cemented to the ground that it felt like cinderblocks were tied to his feet, the smell of singed hair and burnt flesh filling his nostrils like smog.
For a moment, the stormsinger was spared. But only for a deafening moment: the contact of their sweat-soaked skin moments prior would be her downfall. The lightning was a cruel mistress, a blind predator that was only summoned but could not be controlled like a beaten dog. It would arc through the flesh and bones of the Warden and leap onto the stormsinger, sparing her only minimally less pain as its momentum slowly withered away the farther it leapt from the heavens. After all, the only thing that spared the Beast it sought was the misjudgment and its shortcoming..
It may have bought her precious moments, but when the electric predator took hold of her as she tumbled to the ground... would she be able to scramble to her feet in time, before the white noise faded from the eyes of the Beast and was replaced by white-hot anger?
No, he guessed she wouldn't.
His anger would return tenfold, ombre ears slicked back to his sweat-soaked skin, disappearing into a tangled mess of hair. Teeth would gnash as a guttural noise would rip from his throat. "YOU THINK YOU HAVE IT IN YOU, STORMSINGER?" came the roar, voice raw and hoarse with rage. As she tumbled to the ground before him, the electric predator most likely taking hold and bringing her down even harder, his front hooves left the ground and his upper body heaved up towards the heavens.
Should she open her eyes — should the white noise and blankets of painful white snow leave her vision — she would see him above her. She'd see the dark skies boiling behind the white of his ivory skin, see the fury painted across his eyes, see the Third eye staring into her soul with its unending, erratic gaze.
She'd see the hooves, she'd see the intent. She'd witness how his weight fell — no, how he forced it down — and he knew she'd feel it in her gut. "Lets see you—" hooves nearly the size of her head fell "command the heavens—" onto the delicate bones of her right wing "—that you can no longer fly in." Rage, as white hot as the sun.
Never forget how your ego was your downfall, stormsinger.
[ please tag @Torstein in all replies ]
I have three eyes
TWO TO LOOK ONE TO SEE
