the bearer of bad news
bramble seasonal
Bulwark
Tactician
08-25-2023, 07:24 AM
Berry continues to bite and tear at the bear's ears. Infuriated snarls rip through the air as the bear blindly swings its paws around at its face. Bramble is latched onto the bear's hind right leg. Her teeth are sinking into their tendons. She can barely see where Tate is but he is doing damage. Blood is flying elsewhere and splattering on her face, shoulders, back, and paws. They needed to take the bear down quickly or they would be in trouble. The more enraged it got, the faster its large paws swiped at the air. There is an urge within her to be successful. A need to prove her worth. To show that she is worthy of defending not only the Hallows, but herself and of Tate. She was no damsel. She was a warrior princess who was strong, and capable, and would show everyone who the heck she was! A new fire lights in her belly as she hears Tate make noise after a swipe to the head. Ripping her head away, she severs the bear's tendons and watches it become crippled. Finally, the beast is on all fours and she is able to make a move. Quickly now, she moves to the bear's throat. Her cat-like claws are extended as she slashes at the bear's eyes. Blinding the enraged animal, she moves to latch on to the bear's jugular. Her sharpened canines do the trick as she digs through the thick fur and skin. Blood is covering her face and chest as she shakes and flings her head back and forth. The garbled cries of the bear are slowly dying as it drowns in its own blood. The light in its eyes is fading quickly as the bear lumbers a few steps and falls forward onto the ground. Bramble is quick to jump back and out of the way with Berry following suit. Her breath is haggard, her sides sucking in and out as she tries to catch some air. With her tongue drooping from the side of her mouth, she looks over to Tate. Exhaustion begins to seep into her as the adrenaline fades. Her eyes flutter as she also stumbles a few steps. There is pain radiating from her side. A lot of pain. A whimper falls from her own lips as she tries to walk closer to Tate. "It hurts," she whines before collapsing onto the dirt and grass beneath her. "My ribs. Please, help," she looks up with a pained expression at the boy as her raven, Bristle flies down to see if she is needed to go fetch help. word count: 1715/1500
|
bramble's companions are to be assumed near her unless stated otherwise.