Freak On a Leash

A warfare begetted battlefield honed its battleships, of course –– dark olive and blanched umbra serrated the skies above, pale blizzard and blue-bell tones pirouetting like a tempest in the dead of sea. There was no way of knowing what she might do next, every fibril of her vitriolic being deuced in a boneyard of undead souls. Flays of mire tore from the earth as they danced a wicked chorus, ivory daggers goring naught but air, where flecks of grime, ichor, the poignant taste of plumptuous meat, it all bemused Lebraid’s eldritch features.

Oh, so that’s how they wanted to play?

Did they not want to feel, much less see, the true face of what acrimony and rapacity can really be?

She’d made a promise, albeit, that none shall stand in her fucking way -- weights transposed, footing became momentarily encumbered by the dire’s mass -- and then a bludgeoning blow. Thick, muscular legs dared to concrete themselves into the bole, blood-stained theatre, pain therein exploding at the hip. She’d never felt so alive, skin spasming in response to the canines that sunk raw; a crazed, morbid, bestial snarl belched from the chasms of this cacodemon’s innards, slaver scorning hair, threaded-flesh and follicles as she’d turn to ogle them, mania bleeding from those tintless eyes. Defences fixed, a mutinous rumble bore like a colossal dragon, attempting to pivot her rump left and wrest away from the boy’s seize. There wouldn’t be a second to waste if proven triumphant in her pull; gaping jaws dared to clasp down upon the side of their face (right) in a single, conscious lunge, caring none for what ruins may be done. She would not be bested here, and certainly not by a wean, no less a foolhardy mess.

Exposed vs Ludovic for Spar
Round 3/3
Age: 3
Size: Large
Build: Heavy
Skills: Fighter & Intellectual

Action. | “Speech.” | Skill.
“Wrong me once, I’ll kill you twice.”