WE ARE BORN. WE ARE READY. WE ARE BORN. READY.

Disregard and discard circumstance, expectation. Those are for lesser animals. Durathror simply is, and what she is is UN. FUCKING. STOPPABLE.

Hours alive spent charging out of Draco, through the meadows leaving a sizzling trail of acid and fire wherever it went, burning a hole in the world and any lesser small enough to fit in its mouth. Durathror has a very large mouth.

Now, it is bursting into Cepheus, and it hates what it sees as much as an animal can hate, every new neuron bursting into flame as it beholds - the horror - manicured lawns and pruned hedges. And, oh god no, potted plants. Those are the most egregious insult, and they must die first.

CRASH! CLATTER! The tiger is out.

She's chewing of fragments of ceramic as they're reduced to powder and spit when she remembers that she hates the grass, too. But that brand new brain of hers puts the pieces together and suddenly, dark tufts of fire are sprouting, beginning to slowly raze the garden - yes, yes... Much better. Incredible work.

If it were older, wiser, it would've paid Dawn no mind and keep at it until she'd physically intervened. However, her big head raised like a dog's at the strange words, the first real contact it'd had with someone who it didn't share blood with-

The stranger slammed into her side, a blur of white and the sting of teeth, reminding her of this world's nature and Durathror's place in it. Sublime. Exquisite. She toppled over, rolling onto her back as her mouth snapped towards Dawn's torso, threatening to drag Dawn along with her.

Durathror's current strategy isn't entirely suited for combat, but it appeared to be working just fine right now, so what the hell. Literally eat her. Swallow her whole if you have to.

Teeth sink into meat, drawing blood - that blood pools into the hollow of her mouth, onto her tongue, tongue tastes that blood - fireworks. Her whole body succumbed the gravitational pull of violent murder, disregarding the shredding teeth making their way through her thick plating, her own toxic orange blood beginning to soak the grass underneath. It sizzles where it falls, the only part of getting injured she cares about. Let it burn.

She rolls over once, twice, any plan to actually get back up completely decimated by the need to tear this thing in her mouth to shreds. She shakes her head, growling, energised by the mere idea of the damage it could do. Key word: Could.

Durathror rolled directly into the growing sundew, the plant immediately catching on her body and forcing it still - or at least forcing her to stop rolling around so much. The enzymes chewed at her thick pelt, partially kept at bay by her natural resistance to acids, but persistent enough that her resistance wouldn't matter if she stayed attached for a couple seconds more...

But it wasn't something that could think ahead right now. Teeth flashed its way and something sparked, defensive instinct beginning to awaken now that the Helldeer threatened to 1. Escape and 2. Eat her back???

In retaliation to this clear imbalance in the natural order of things, Durathror released her grip on Dawn's torso and attempted to reassert it on her face, and maybe her neck, in order to force her mouth shut.