Again she turned, again he was there, and the gruesome dance continues.

In a split second decision, one that risked killing her, she met his lunge with snapping teeth. She was immediately overwhelmed by the swinging limbs, unable to find her target - something small enough of him to break.

The cave was filled with the awful, short squeals of claws on metal, but was worse was the noises only Relic could hear. Claws hooked, then gouged, scoring lines across her unprotected torso. She'd made the foolish decision of charging into his attack, rather than away, and she was paying for it in blood.

Not Relic's teeth! She needs those!

Seeing the large hand approach her head at dangerous speeds, she kicked into reverse yet again, content to cut and run without actually cutting this time.

Talons knicked the top of her head, adding to the laundry list of injuries she was accumulating. But again, if she hadn't run, the fight would've ended then and there, with her brains spattered all over the gravel.

She couldn't keep up the pace forever. At some point she was going to falter, and the second she did she would be dead. What was keeping Relic going, more than anything, was stubbornness. She refused to die - but if she had to, whether in chrysalis or out, she would not go gently.

She saw the glow flare in his chest. Relic put two and two together. She summoned all the strength in her legs to leap for it and snuff it out with sheer force of will.

Her aim was true. She was sailing high and fast directly into his chest, hoping to knock the breath and fire from him before it left his mouth.

She was close enough to feel his muscles tense, pulling backward for the blow. She bounced off, but the wave was already breaking. She could feel the buzz of his life-force through the helmet still as she left it, lunging for the comfort of empty air, the safety of distance -

Fists the size of her head slammed into her armour so hard she felt like her stomach would split open from the force alone, all four of them in sync. She felt the meat and bone underneath tenderise, unable to know if it'd broken under the pressure as the collision filled her head.

Down.

With twice the force she was sandwiched between the blow and the ground, and the damage was immediate and severe. Her rib cage folding, snapping inward with a wet crunch. Her own bones skewered her the organs they were built to shield, the sharp ends splitting and fragmenting in soft tissue. Lungs shredded, a torrent of blood already spraying from her throat as Relic began to die.

She couldn't breathe. Her bruised and broken body raised itself aloft on unsteady paws, balancing itself on fractured legs. "Grrggk." Another flush of blood spilled from her lips, sinking into the floor.

Fate had begun to catch up.

There was no room for thought or respect in her, not anymore. Relic was so far beyond anything other than the next couple of seconds, the swelling and the draining in tandem. The dying of it all.

The fire Azrael saw wasn't that of a warrior's, it was an animal desperate to live, despite all that kept her here was swirling into entropy. Relic felt it, heard it, every moment, only her stuttering heart audible against the gurgling roar. Her ears were ringing like they threatened to bleed.

"You fought well. A cunning warrior. I will give you a glorious death."

Her mind was swimming in its own blood.

She felt fingers dig in and through the membrane of her wing, pulling her up into the air for one final blow, gravity pulling on her insides and twisting the knife deeper. "GGGGRGLRR." She screamed into water, the noise only just bubbling through as her throat burned with the effort.

Her jaws and teeth was all that he'd left her. He'd regret it, she'd make sure. She snapped for the flesh of his throat as he brought her closer towards it, squirming and lunging even as her bones screamed at her to stop, to lay limp and go gently.

Fur. Meat. Blood. Not hers, this time.

She felt another pop as Azrael began the down swing, dislocating the wing he'd grabbed - and in tandem she felt something of his tear away in her mouth. The satisfaction was immediate. Maybe he'd bleed out, that'd be nice. We can call it a draw that w

CRUNCH.