Oh. Yep. They definitely should've ran. The upper head states this aloud in a hissed whisper, only to be shushed by the lower. "Focus. Or we'll die."

Sharp teeth in their upper forehoof. They'd stumble, struggling to remain upright as the weight of the insectoid beast threatened to topple them. Sheer panic and instinct flooded them. There was no thought to get in the way of their shared control, just the actions of a terrified creature who did NOT want to die.

They shook hard, finally dislodging The Huntsman, and then instantly spun around to kick out with their hind hooves. Their attacker would go skidding across the stone, landing motionless a couple feet away. Infinity heaved, already exhausted. "Leave us alone." The upper head gasped, "We don't want to kill you."

One moment, he thought things were going fairly well for him. The next, he was sprawled across the stone, winded. His ribs- yes, despite looking like a giant bug he did in fact have bones- felt broken, or at the very least bruised. He gasped heavily for a moment.

He was NOT going to let them live. Not after embarrassing him like this. Not after they DARED to imply that HIS life lay in THEIR hands. He SNARLED, like the wolf who's protective skin he currently lacked.

And then he charged.

The pain coursing through his flank slowed him down, but his opponent was also clearly weakened. He'd go straight for the jugular. The cow's skin was thick, his teeth not particular made for mauling, but he didn't care. I'm going to tear out their windpipe and the sound of their choking will be such sweet music.

Maybe Infinity should've retreated. To be fair, they were SURE that their opponent would just take his loss and leave. And Infinity themself was too exhausted to flee at any speed faster than a brisk jog.

So they were caught off guard by the teeth in their shared throat. Their lower head let out a choked scream, hooves kicking out and connecting solidly with flesh. Still, the hunter held strong. The lower head wheezed, vision growing hazy, as the upper head gasped out "Don't kill us! Please! Just take the stones!"

[Im going to powerplay Infinity dying because this is ridiculous. Stop rolling well you stupid cow.]

Content Warning
This post contains potentially sensitive material:

violence

gore

He'd back up, spitting out blood and fur, only to rear back and slice his talons across the gash he'd made with his teeth, turning a trickle into a delicious river of blood. But what had they been saying, before their desperate pleading turned into gurgling and gasping?

'Take the stones?'

"Don't mind if I do."

The glittering black opal was at the crux of where the two heads meet. Unfortunately, it seemed pretty firmly lodged into their flesh and bone, despite how he carved up the meat around it. Whatever, he could just take it after they died and turned into oil.

Cyneweard was minding his own business when he heard distant shouts and clear signs of a struggle. He'd rush towards the sound, only to stumble upon an attempted murder that looked precariously close to a successful murder.

He'd drop the axe, afraid that swinging it recklessly would accidentally hurt the already-injured gembound he was trying to protect.

And then he'd run recklessly into the fray, because what else could he do?

He'd body-check the gigantic bird-bug, earning a startled, pained hiss. He'd stand protectively over the wounded gembound who now lay bleeding out on the ground. Shoot. That wasn't good.

He'd settle into a defensive position, in case the other gembound decided to attack again. "I'm not letting you hurt them!" He shouted.

Content Warning
This post contains potentially sensitive material:

gore

death

Everything was a panicked, pained haze. The lower head had it worst- or best, in a way. They were already gone the moment the huntsman shredded his claws through their throat. The upper head? They were still gasping on lack of oxygen and blood loss, hanging on desperately for the both of them.

Suddenly, the deadly presence was knocked away, replaced with another. They could no longer discern words, but there was shouting- defiant, protective. A savior. Maybe it wasn't too late.

They hoped so.

They didn't want to die.

[exit due to death]

He was so, SO sure he had finally won. He would get to eat, and revel in his newfound spoils.

Instead he felt something crash RIGHT into his already injured side. He'd recoil, the breath utterly knocked out of him as he stumbled to regain his balance.

His new opponent? Some annoyingly self-righteous bipedal weasel-thing, shouting at him not to harm the innocent.

"Its a bit too late for that." He drawled, "They're already as good as gone."

Huntsman was tired, but even more than that he was ANNOYED. Annoyed that this had been so much harder than it should've been. Annoyed that RIGHT when he thought the fight was over, some smuck showed up to give him round two.

He doubted he'd be getting the prize he wanted. But at the very least he could leave this 'hero' with a mark to remember him by.

A quick slash of his claws across the his new opponent's face. The knight hissed, too steadfast in his protection of a lost cause to dodge out of the way. He unfortunately missed the eye, but at the very least pain him for a cycle or two until it healed. And if it scared? It would be a permanent, visible reminder of his ire.

And then? He was out of there was fast as his wounded ribs and ego could carry him.

[Exit thread]

Content Warning
This post contains potentially sensitive material:

gore

The other gembound makes a verbal jab at him, and just as he opens his mouth to retort claws score down the right side of his face. He instinctively clasps a hand onto his cheek, warm blood oozing between his fingers. Before he can retaliate, the bird-bug is already gone. He's running at a slow limp, and Cyneweard is sure that he could catch up if he wanted, but he is a protector, not a hunter.

He turns around to face the one he'd been protecting, to see how they're doing, and-

And...

The stranger was right.

He doesn't need to check their pulse to know they're already gone. A pool of blood sluggishly grows underneath their still form, unseeing eyes staring upwards into Orion's false-night.

But there's something else, glittering in the rubble nearby.

Gemstones?

Two of them, one of them half-embedded in an old bone and the other on it's lonesome.

They probably belonged to the dead gembound. He felt sad thinking he'd never get to learn their name. He wondered what they were planning to do with these- he knew some people collected gemstones simply to have something shiny, but usually you'd only seek them out if you planned to imbue magic into it.

He'd never done anything like that before but... maybe. Maybe it could make up for the life he'd been too late to save.

The corpse is already starting to turn to oil, so it was easy to remove the black opal with a wet pop. He'd grimace through a wave of nausea as he shook off the gore before moving to collect the two other, thankfully clean gemstones. He'd carry all three precariously in his arms, leaving the bloody scene behind.

[Exit Thread]