ORIGIN

The puppy had only just managed to get back up to her paws when, suddenly, she was thrown away again. She hadn't quite heard what Pride had said, but she knew very well that it could be used more directly.

She just tended to use it to crack open rat-skulls.

Aster let out a half-yelp, half-whine as she hit the floor a second time, briefly dazed, but trying to think quickly, though she found herself both unable to concentrate and unable to properly cast anything for the time being, resorting to staring at the floor until she got her bearings instead.

Pride was rapidly considering his next strike, gathering his magicka but not yet directing it.

I can try another double, throw her off, give myself time. I could simply batter her again, but how brutish. I might also--ahh, is she-... Down? He hesitated, his magicka gathered and pooled, waiting for a mere flick of his mind to give it direction.

He was unsure whether she was capable of continuing--but more than that, he realized abruptly that he could tap into her mind, and check for himself. And if she was casting something, rather than merely stunned or hesitating, surely he could pick up on her plans?

The fawn instead directed his magic for her mind, intensely focused, eyes bright with concentration. Unfortunately, he felt himself fumbling with the magic--it had come to him, yes, but forming it into this... shape, this intent, was harder on the fly than he'd expected.

I should have thought-... It is hard to bind our minds even when not in the thick of combat. I shall need to practice this, he thought grimly.

The seconds ticked by until Aster slowly flicked a slicked-back ear, half-recalling that she was mid-battle and probably shouldn't be lying there dazed for so long.

As she began shifting, she began casting. Her gem glittered only briefly as her lanky body stood up, but with it came another long-legged borzoi that stood next to her, identical to even the smallest detail-- such as the crookedness of her muzzle and the curls of her fur.

Both dogs staring at Pride, one of them-- the doppelganger, began loping very quickly directly into Pride's face, teeth bared and jaws snapping. The actual Aster stood a bit behind, moving off to the side, hoping that the fawn might not notice, while her copy flies harmlessly into him.

Pride startled.

He'd never seen a predator before--not in this sense, not in a snarling, fangs-bared charge--and it triggered some primal instincts within him that he hadn't realized that he had. He sprang back, snorting in alarm, head coming up and eyes flashing wide. His nostrils flared and for a beat, he forgot to call upon his magic.

He forgot that he could. Then he spotted Aster in the shadows, lurking, and realized what was happening.

An instant later he was using it after all, almost without thinking, some corner of his mind frantically grasping at his control of its own powers. He remembered, vaguely, flinging Reseda's own double back at her--or trying to; he'd accidentally grabbed Reseda herself. Or well, he supposed it hadn't mattered which was which.

...Did the doubles even have physical force?

I will find out, he thought, somewhat grimly. He didn't want to find out what might happen if this double reached him. --Is this one even a double at all? His magic fumbled for it, some interaction between energy and his arcane not quite connecting, but he tried his best to grip it and hurl it to her, although the throw was weak at best.

I don't think she'd make one only to have it hide-- But he had little time to more seriously think.

Sending the doppleganger at Pride seemed to have worked to confuse him briefly; but now there was an identical copy of herself being flung back at her. Scrambling, the dog fumbled on her long legs to dodge, eyes darting between the other black borzoi sailing through the air and Pride.

I think not.

Her head turned back to the doppelganger, concentrating. Her intention had been to fling it right back at Pride, though her magic faltered and fizzled out quickly-- the copy went with it. With a gentle huff, the puppy shook herself out and stepped forward to face Pride again.

Pride turned, holding himself higher, stiffer, more--well, proudly. He looked more like the carved figurehead of some ancient ship than a living being, for just a beat, though perhaps not so much as if he had been a full-grown stag. Pale eyes regarded Aster closely for a moment as he considered his next move.

Create a double. She will try to throw it. When she does--send her flying. She will, in that moment, be helpless.

He focused, drawing on his magicka as strongly as he could, fighting against the ebbing of Polaris's threads of it, trying to stay afloat in its chaotic currents. He would draw, and draw, and then--he would release it.

Pride stepped left--and Pride stepped right. The right-hand one flickered in and out, for a moment, weaker than it could have been, but no sooner had the fawn realized this than he also realized that it served his purposes quite well. He could hardly expect her to grasp the double, rather than him, if she couldn't see which it was.

Now to see if this gamble pays off.

For a moment, the dog watched. Ear flicking. She couldn't tell which one was which, but that hardly mattered because she had a plan. The puppy braced herself, shaking her curly fur out.

And then started running.

Full speed ahead, no regrets to be had, Aster ran with her stilt-like legs only half-coordinated properly until she reached the fawn and his double, focusing, gem glittering, and then released her spell. It wasn't particularly strong, but that was surely fine-- she didn't want Pride getting hurt.

A shockwave blasted out from the borzoi regardless, sending some loose stones skidding across the cave floor and blasting dust and dirt alike into the air-- more importantly, it would send both Pride and his twin skidding back a few feet as well, if not falling over.

Pride was midway through summoning up his magicka when the dog suddenly bolted for him.

Oh.

She was still running.

...Oh no.

His brilliant plan backfired terribly as suddenly, Aster plowed her magic straight into him. He and his double had moved in two directions, but she'd managed to catch Pride himself dead-on, and in doing so, disrupted his focus on maintaining his double entirely. As he was thrown down over the stone, the double faded out, and Pride turned, blinking in some surprise. As he tried to scramble back to his hooves, on the rock, he called up his own magicka in a reflexive attempt to throw Aster back away.

The chaotic currents of magic did not answer him strongly enough, and he found it difficult to fight to hold onto their threads while scrabbling on the rock.

Aster herself did not hesitate after throwing the two fawns back, though she had to take a moment to steady herself on her own legs before taking the moment to focus on casting more magic.

She swelled with the familiar sensation of casting, and she saw the gentle blue shimmer of her gemstone around her face, but something felt.. wrong, this time.

Likely partially because as soon as the spell was released, there was a sharp crack as her hind leg was caught in her own spell and it twisted to the point of breaking. The dog recoiled instantly, yelping and crying for a moment.

"Stop, STOP," the borzoi cried, half-convinced that, somehow, Pride was responsible for this, but the pain did not stop. She crumpled to the ground, breathing heavily and trying to tend to the broken limb with little success.

Pride had made it to his feet, and was concentrating on summoning up his own magicka--caught in the adrenaline rush of battle--when Aster called out. He paused mid-casting, blinking pale grey eyes and wincing a little at her cry. One foreleg hovered midair, delicate hoof shimmering in the blue Spireglow. After a brief hesitation, he rushed toward her, hooves clattering unevenly on rock as he approached. He quickly tried to open the link between their minds, as he went.

Almost immediately, the pain surging forth from the dog sent him reeling back, eyes widening even further. Fear spiked through him--and this was his own first taste of either. For a moment he staggered on the rock, and then he rushed forward more swiftly, a sense of firm control flowing up over the panic.

He had to help.

He wasn't sure what was wrong, and that added to the panic that threatened to rise up and overwhelm him, but he fought it down, stopping over Aster and quickly looking her over. Do not move. Don't move! he thought to her, trying his best to send a sort of commanding reassurance her way. It was, however, threaded through and laced with fear, though he tried to fight it. Your leg, it's twisted--don't try to stand on it. He realized almost as soon as he sent this thought that she was already trying to tend the leg, and he dropped down to his own knees beside her, folding up his legs beneath him and lying there staring at her break. He was unsure exactly what happened--he knew he hadn't done it, at least, though the fear that he'd somehow done it without realizing remained. But he knew that she was in pain, and there was little he could do.

I don't know if I can help--I don't think I can. I don't think my magic does that but--can you focus on me? His thoughts were almost pleading, deeply worried, the calm detachment shattered away for fear for the puppy's life.