HE MOTIONED ME TO THE SKY,
She thinks she is prepared, but in reality she has allowed her confidence to be her own downfall -- only the sound of hooves against rocks behind her warns her, but even then it is not enough. She begins to turn, nostrils flaring and eyes wide, only to take the full force of Marisol’s charge to her shoulder. It throws her to the soft dirt, the impact driving the air from her lungs even as she rolls quickly, finding her feet and leaping up in order to face whatever the Commander might throw at her next.
Stupid! She chides herself, both shoulders throbbing now as if to underline the sentiment. Why had she been so sure that Marisol would approach head-on, when in hindsight that was the most obvious route of attack? Elysium had trained her better than that.
She launches herself into a sweeping, jarring trot when she finds her footing, gritting her teeth against the protestations of her bruised muscles and keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the commander before her. She traces a half-circle around the commander before cutting suddenly, her hind legs propelling her towards Marisol with a grim smile across her face. There’s a moment where she seems to hang in the air, rebelling against gravity, and then her hooves are cutting into the ground beneath her -- and her jaws are reaching for the soft socket where wing met shoulder, where she would aim to cripple in a real fight.
Not that she’s holding back much anyways; if anything at all.
I HEARD HEAVEN & THE THUNDER CRY.
