As to "where would it go," the question was answered as soon as V-Onyx-Three crested the ridge: the Icebeast was rapidly digging into the snow, already half-submerged but not swiftly enough to avoid detection entirely.

It buried itself quickly, turning, the blood trail leading right to its divot in the snow regardless--but white eyes caught V-Onyx-Three's approach and it backed up in its hole, hissing a gape-mouthed warning. It crouched back, shaggy fur half-buried, facing its hunter.

@V-Onyx-Three

The obscuring effect of the snow paired with their distance from the Sentinel caused them to not notice the near-deadly fall. Onyx-Three also couldn't imagine such a thing happening, and if he did he might've not even believed his eyes. But his absence would be noticed eventually, probably after the ice beast was dealt with.

They did not expend too much energy in catching up to the icebeast, considering it preferred a burrow and hide rather than run away somewhere approach. That was a good thing. Arriving just in time to find it half buried in the snow, he found that this was a difficulty he had not accounted for. There was only one place he would be able to target, and that was the head. With sharp teeth. And claws. Onyx-Three had yet to encounter a creature that tried such a tactic, which definitely added to the challenge.

Taking the dagger into his hand, he gripped the hilt firmly before lunging forward into the hole in an attempt to stab the creature right in the middle of its face. Onyx-Three wasn't aiming anywhere specifically, rather, just trying to land it as he knew injuries to the head had a higher chance of being fatal in general.

Content Warning
This post contains potentially sensitive material:

gore

The white eyes--pupillless, by all appearances--tracked Onyx-Three with close, desperate intent. There was a strange blankness, an emptiness to them, and as the dagger swept down, that clouded gaze shot to the claws wrapped around the hilt.

The creature, with the viciousness of the cornered and desperate, and with the savage strength of its kind, lunged as soon as V-Onyx-Three was close enough.

The dagger's blade still raked a bloodied wound along its head, neck and flank--tearing one of those soft, blank eyes from its head with a ragged pop--but the razor-toothed jaws backed by nine feet of muscle surged for Onyx, aiming to snag his forearm in its grip and drag him down into the snow.

@V-Onyx-Three

Weak spot hit- it would probably have a harder time now that it was half-blind. It was hard to tell how deep it went or how much damage was inflicted due to how the icebeast seemed to not have any emotion. It did not shriek in pain, nor did it backdown. And so he did not expect the suddenness and intensity with which it lunged forward towards his arm.

And then he had an idea. It might've been reckless, but it was worth a try. Rather than try to dodge the attack, Onyx-Three leaned into it, trying to get more of his arm into its mouth than the icebeast had planned for. The spikes along the back of his arm started around the elbow, so if he could get that into its mouth, perhaps it would be able to deal damage. Balance was lost as he was dragged down into the snow. Panic flooded his senses, pain radiating from the spot where it held onto him. Onyx-Three had originally planned to stab it with the dagger, but found he was unable to maintain a good grip on it to do so.

Their free hand managed to pull an arrow from their quiver, and with this they tried to manually jam the arrow into its skull.

On any other day, the arrow would've simply snapped. It was only an arrow, after all: not a spear, not a dagger, but a thin rod with a pointy tip. It relied on speed for its damage, and a stab to the thick bony skull of a giant lizard did not come with speed.

But V-Onyx-Three was lucky; the Icebeast twisted just as he stabbed, and the arrow scraped over bone before plunging into the other eye, past soft tissue and deep into the brain. The Icebeast spasmed, jerking back and then flailing in its mindless death throes, twisting violently with splashes of blood in the snow before dropping down, twitching madly.

The question now was whether V-Onyx-Three had noticed the creature's white eyes. Whether he'd recognized the creature sitting sentry, and what that had truly meant.

And whether he'd notice the trickling thread of warm, soft approval now touching him from... From where? Did it have anything to do with this beast's bite? Was it contaminated somehow..?

V-Onyx-Three has been Exposed to the fungus of Order via an infested Icebeast's bite. If and when he recognizes this, should he so choose, it can be removed via chrysalis or the spell Fungal Wake.

@V-Onyx-Three

He had not expected the arrow to go into its eye. A part of them thought that maybe icebeasts were not as good at fighting as he had expected. Onyx-Three had hyped himself up for this! He had prepared! Only for it to bring about its own demise like... that. It would not be wrong to say he was disappointed. They had wanted to win through skill, through their training, not through luck.

Pulling their arm free, Onyx-Three watched as it flailed around before all movement ceased. It was dead. He had not noticed its white eyes, and there was no noticing them now considering they were both- yeah. Perhaps there was a gemstone to be earned from this? But as he tried to search for one, he noticed that there was something white caught up in its fur. Like... Order? No, it couldn't be. Instead of fear, there was instead a barely noticeable feeling of warmth. Hm. He liked it. It was not often he felt something like that.

Then he looked to his bloodied arm, and then back to the icebeast. Onyx-Three knew how Order looked like, but not how it felt like. And that white stuff surely couldn't be Order, it wasn't making him feel bad in any sense. But the warmth did seem... off. Snap out of it! Onyx-Three couldn't believe they were thinking such thoughts. Order was Order, and that icebeast had it, and it bit him. He needed to tell the Sentinel right away! Oh god what would he think? Him? Order? This was horrible! The gemstone was forgotten completely as he scrambled back onto his feet, quickly moving to cradle his right arm. It was bleeding now, staining the snow behind him as he backtracked, feeling panic overcome any remnants of the warmth he had felt. "Sentinel? Where are you?"

@The Sentinel

He was... struggling. It was a struggle. All the fights he had been in, and never once had he simply shattered a limb like this. Most of his weight was on one leg; the rest, wrapped and draped, shaking with exertion, around the halberd.

His hobbling was a weak limp and a stumble, over and over, the pain spiking agony through him and sparking the chaos toward violence. He wanted to--to lash out. To tear. He could see only Void; then a war, raging around him, and he clenched his many teeth.

It was the thought that V-Onyx-Three might run into trouble that pushed him on, even when his magicka failed to alleviate the pain. Limp, stumble. Limp, stumble. He staggered, pushing his way through the heavy snow, and knew then that his time in Ursa was limited. He'd need to find his spawn, and then get out, back to Draco, to recover. Possibly even to chrysalize.

It took him a few moments longer, then, to crest the hill over which Onyx-Three had come. "V-Onyx-Three," he rasped, as loudly as he could, half-hanging against the halberd. It took him a moment to pick out the silhouette of black, and the smears of blood, ahead and down below.

Good--his child was still standing, at least.

@V-Onyx-Three

Relief flooded over them as they spotted the Sentinel, but this was quickly replaced by a feeling of horror as they noticed him hobbling. Onyx-Three ran to meet him, panting from the exertion of the uphill climb. What had happened? Their eyes scanned over the broken leg, trying to pick out evidence of what could've caused it. Had the Sentinel been ambushed by a far larger icebeast? Or had he been attacked by Order drones? Their good hand clenched into a fist at the thought of this, as if they were just about ready to run over and go beat up whatever it was that had injured him so badly. It did not cross his mind that perhaps it was self inflicted. Such a thing seemed impossible.

It felt... strange to see the Sentinel injured like this. For someone who they admired and looked up to to be the one suffering in this way. Wrong. And some other feeling that was concern and fear and a million emotions in between that mixed together into a confusing ball of emotions that he was unable to understand. Onyx-Three remembered when he was still young and had injured his leg during training. Their father had helped them then, and now the roles were reversed. He moved to position himself in such a way so that the Sentinel could drape an arm over them for support if needed.

"Who did this? I will... kill." He needed to calm down. And he tried, but his magic escaped him, emotions too strong for him to concentrate. Something that could only be described as anger was building, and it pushed him to rip and tear any opponent into little bits and pieces until there was nothing left. Even the biting winds of Ursa and the throbbing wound in his arm seemed to be insignificant compared to the storm inside him.

@The Sentinel

The Sentinel-... exhaled. It wasn't irritation, an annoyed sigh. It was--laughter? Or as close as the Sentinel ever got: a short puff, a voiceless "heh" sort of breath. A hand reached out to briefly clasp the offered shoulder, though his weight returned to his halberd thereafter. "The Sentinel would prefer... if you did not kill. He has done this to himself." 'So don't kill me' was the implied joke. "He has fallen. Recovery will come." He hobbled a few steps farther, peering at the dead Icebeast.

"This hunt was... successful." A half-questioning glance toward V-Onyx-Three followed. "Are there wounds?" His gaze travelled over Onyx-Three's pelt, searching for injury. The bite mark was met with a lingering stare. "Magic can be used... to recover from injury." He hadn't ever taught that, but--now was as good a time as ever, right?

Maybe if he got lucky, he could even demonstrate-? He tentatively reached for his magicka, but--nothing came; and he glanced back to Onyx-Three. Ahh, well-... Maybe he could figure it out for himself. Or maybe his wounds simply weren't that bad.

The faint link was strengthening. It was weak, yes; it would be days before any coherent conversation could take place. But already there was a numbing sense of well-being--like a hot tea on a cold winter's day--threading its way through V-Onyx-Three. It was a reassuring feeling, a feeling that he was not alone.

A single word broke through into his thoughts: interrupted, piecemeal, but flooded with-"-Love-..."

@V-Onyx-Three