Pride's sharp eyes watched everything that was happening.

Fire--successful. The black dog is injured--not good; Huckleberry--dead? One less in the fight. That wolf needs to be taken down. And Blackberry-- his thoughts cut off as the goose--burnt, but still alive--launched herself at Rift.

His fury drove him, and he stepped further out from behind his tree, into the open toward the fight. He was far enough to react if one of them turned to charge him, but close enough to be more precise with his magic. More deadly. His pale eyes were locked on Blackberry. His face was contorted with rage, but his heart--though burning--felt ice cold.

His magicka boiled up, surging through his chest, then lashed out in a precise strike. His aim was to grab Blackberry, to haul her from the cat, and to slam her against a thick tree some distance behind her with the magic of his mind. With force.

He intended to use everything he had: to smash her against that hard wood, to crush her bones, to splatter her over the trunk.

To end this.

The grip, at first, was struggling--the hand, as it were, of magic fumbling at its target--but he fought to make it work, even if the force was less than he had hoped. He did not know what to do for Rift--nor for Oliver, or Enka, or Huckleberry, or any of the rest.

But that was all her doing. All of these deaths, and injuries--all were due to her madness.

The pain was incredible, unlike anything he'd ever felt. He'd never been damaged like this before. The shock began to settle in, everything taking on a dreamlike quality, his agony fading to a dull background roar as his limbs went distantly cold.

He stumbled back, and his eyes were wide. There were others lunging for him--missing--fighting. Beside him, Rift was bleeding, the goose atop him. Oliver could barely see, the flesh around his eyes badly burned.

There was not much that he could do. He wanted to pull Rift away, to get them all to safety. To have time to get water, to seal the wounds shut (as Rift had tried and failed to do, though Oliver was wholly unaware of this). But he could barely control his own magic, or even his own breathing--ragged and shallow--and he could hardly act in his fear.

But the selfless side of him still drove him. He did not want to fight--didn't want to harm anyone at all--but he reached out, one clawed paw-hand desperately reaching for Rift. His magicka flickered up, selfless concern made manifest, in an attempt to aid him.

He didn't know how it worked. He couldn't have said that he was improving cellular activity suddenly and beyond what was naturally possible, that he was giving the cat's immune system and maybe even blood cells a burst of power. All Oliver knew was that Rift was hurt, and he feared for the cat's life.

He had to help him.
{Table code credit to Madison, altered a bit!}

@Elderberry

Enka grimaced as antlers and gemstone torn into the canine’s shoulder and ripped at the tout muscle beneath. It was a terrible sound to hear. The feeling of skin ripping by her own volition was sickening. Somehow the mental pain of piercing into another’s flesh was harder to bare than the sore on her side with it’s sticky, coagulating blood. The responding growl, the resistance then sudden give, the shudder of her body … the springbok knew in the back of her mind that new imagery aplenty would be joining the nightmares she had been having since the Eridanus fire incident.

Her inexperience and startlement at her own actions made her unwise in the ways of fighting. Most deer and antelopes would be aware of their flank, of any weak points possible when facing a predator. Instead Enka soon found her leg caught in the jowls of the wolf she had just attacked.

There was no time to respond as pain shot up her leg. She tried to kick but it did little good. The springbok fell to the ground, the pebbles and thorns further scratching at the wound on her side, now reopened and bleeding once more. Enka tried to kick the leg out of the wolf’s mouth but feared twisting it too much. Other hooves sprang into a mad fury, thrashing every which way in hopes of escaping.

Enka had rushed in foolhardily once again. And, once again, it appeared as though this may be the end of her rushing. She was no match for a creature who had clearly fought before. Tears burned at her eyes. She bellowed loudly in pain and fear.

“Father! Uncle Sebastian! Someone, help me please!” She cried out to the battlefield at large. She knew the likelihood of either being able to rush to her aid was thin. Yet, like a child, she held out hope. She did not want to give in just yet, but feared that there was little she could do as a passive flora child of the forest.

Once again, Enka had hoped to help and instead fell prey to the will of nature. For just a moment, she wondered if she had made the right choice. Instead of trying to help her father, she was now in need of his aid. She was more trouble than help in a task much beyond her ability.

---

Speech
Thoughts

Tags: @Jayberry
Notes:

Elderberry felt time stand still and for a moment- for a single, glorious moment- it seemed that he might receive the glorious battle he had asked for. He struggled, feeling the roots driving into his skin further, and struggled to wrench himself free so that he could face his first real opponent.

But, before any progress could be made, Elderberry heard a new kind of uproar beginning, a flurry of wingbeats and honking. By the time he looked up to his challenger, he realized that Rift was already under attack- and that he had been snubbed again. And Rift's new assailant was, to his dismay, none other than his own mother.

There was no way that he would be able to get the fight he was looking for with her on the case. His mother was unstoppable... unbeatable; by the time it was his turn to face Rift, the job would already been done. Elderberry watched in wonder and horror his mother's violent pecking, her claws tearing, and knew that however he night train, he would never become anything equal to her might. Her glory was matchless, her wrath, unbeatable.

He tried again to struggle free.

But the roots only cut deeper, the hybrid's blood oozing down their stems. Suddenly he was on his sides, pulled inescapably down, his struggles only making them close tighter. And as their grip closed, he wheezed; the plants beginning to crush the air out of his lungs.

---

"When I speak."

When I think.

@Blackberry

The panther was deadly quiet, felid paws silent on cushioned ground. It was more instinct and intuition than anything that warned her of the approach of the black cat, and she twisted to face him, baring her teeth and snarling. Her feathers stood on end, and her wings flared, but before she could act there was an agonizing pain, flesh peeled from her shoulder by sharp fangs.

A squawking shriek tore from her throat, and she thrust her head forward, aiming to take out his other eye. But her aim was off, and her beak only sunk an inch or two into the loose skin of his neck.

Brother, understand whySee it's burning me to hold onto thisI know this is something that I gotta doBut that don't mean I want to

The puma fought the urge to flinch, ears flattening as a piercing shriek sounded right next to his ears. Oh, that was loud! But he held on tight, snarling in pain as that horrid, fanged beak tore into his neck. Thankfully, he had loose flesh there, designed just to protect him from blows to his throat, and so there was not much of a threat. It hurt, but was little danger to him.

The panther released his grip on her shoulder, attempting to get a better grip, but her feathers rose, leaving him unable to get much more than a mouthful of pin-like feathers and flesh.

"Speech looks like this."
Thoughts look like this.

What I'm trying to say is that, I love you I justI feel like this is coming to an endAnd it's better for me to let it go now,than hold on and hurt youI've gotta let it burn

Her shoulder burned, and it hurt! She found her blood rushing, thrumming in her ears, saliva pooling in her teeth as she wanted to rip and tear and feast.

The torn muscle was agonizing as she moved, watching with some satisfaction as the deer, even with her higher intelligence, fell like any other, leg taken out from under her. How simple it was, to bring down prey. A leg, a tail, and they were down to the ground, at her mercy. She released her grip, leaping back in an attempt to dodge the springbok's flailing hooves, but the torn muscle gave, and she staggered, leg buckling, finding herself battered by small but sharp hooves. Already, she could feel bruises blooming, nicks and gashes opening on her flesh.

But the bellowing urged her on, and she couldn't help but to give a harsh, cacking laugh - little more than harsh bursts of air, forced through a tight throat - as Enka called out for help. "They won't come," she cack-cack-cacked, "they're distracted, they're fighting. You're on your own, deer." And with that, she lunged forward, aiming to sink her fangs into that deers' soft belly.

"She speaks." 'She thinks.' She does.

As Blackberry tore away green fur and stabbed into the cat's soft flesh, she felt blood coating her beak and her tongue and a horrible pleasure washed over her. A familiar feeling, a wonderful feeling. Oh how she missed this! Tearing into her enemies, coating them and herself with their blood. Her own veins rushed with adrenaline, dulling the pain or, at least, distracting her from it. But then, before she could finish her job, she felt herself lifted into the air. A second later she was hurtling towards a tree, smacking hard into the bark. It wasn't enough to break her bones, but it definitely hurt and she would probably be bruising badly later. That, doubled with the pain from the burns, would have crippled her or anyone else. But Blackberry was high on Rift's blood, the dark fluid coating thickly over her tongue, and she yearned for more.

But a glance towards the cougar and she saw that it was over for him. The damage was more then done. No doubt the cat was going to die. She hissed with pleasure and struggled to her feet. Her back was throbbing but her eyes wildly raked the battlefield for her next opponent and they finally settled on one - Pride. Of course, it was his magic that had thrown her so. He had killed Huckleberry, he had hurt her children. He had Baneberry too. Despite her insistence that she hated her daughter, Blackberry still had that mother's love. No matter what happened, she couldn't just forget about her.

He needed to die. If she was going to protect her family, she needed to kill him. Destroy him. He had messed with her family for the last time.

She honked loudly as she rushed forward, using her wings to lift herself off the ground a bit and make herself go faster. She aimed towards his head with her beak, intending on using her momentum to stab him as hard as she could, preferably in the eyes. If he couldn't see, he couldn't cast his magic.

Battle Report
Blackberry has horribly mauled Rift but was pulled off of him by Pride's magic before she could kill him. She retaliates by running at Pride, intending on stabbing him in the head.
Despite his injuries from the plasma, Oliver is doing what he can to strengthen Rift with magic.
Enka is in over her head and is trying her best to kick at Jayberry while calling for help from Rift and Sebastian. Jayberry mocks her and jumps in to try and attack her belly.
Elderberry is disappointed that he will not get his victory but it failing to escape Rift's plants. He's beginning to suffocate.
Yewberry takes a bite from Sebastian and stabs at him with her beak. He takes the hit and bites back at her.

He thought that Blackberry was never going to stop, never going to cease her mauling of his entire body. He thought she was going to keep digging in and digging in until she ripped out his heart or he died from the blood loss. But then her weight was gone and Rift was left on the ground, covered with terrible wounds and soaked with blood, his eyes wide with terror and his breaths coming in short, gasping pants. The sounds of the battle had dimmed around him and the world was hazy. There was so much blood, too much blood...

He felt something in him stir and refreshing energy crawled through his limbs. It made him feel strong, healthy, but it did nothing to close all the wounds covering his body. He tried to reach for magic again to try and sow shut the skin with plants but it didn't react at all to his pitiful calls.

Without Oliver's spell, he probably would not have been able to move. He probably would have sat on the ground and died but the blood was clotting quickly now around his wounds, slowing the blood flow and giving him enough energy to stumble to his feet. He looked horrible - his green fur was almost completely covered and matted with his own fresh blood. He had heard a cry - Enka's cry, and, turning away from the tall hybrid, whom he had admittedly forgotten about, and slowly stumbled towards the place where he had heard her.

There was a wolf there, one of Blackberry's kids no doubt and he stopped, his face twisted with rage and pain, and snarled deeply. "Get...away...from her..."

@Pride

She never learns. This thought was brief, vague--he could see Blackberry raising herself up, hurtling for him in a tangle of bloodied feathers. He had an almost idle realization that the blood wasn't hers before he focused on his magic.

He wouldn't let her get to him. She had a distance to cross, and he could easily react--but the question was, could he. As he focused, he heard Enka's cries in the tumult--and could see the deer (was she a deer? he wondered) down, the black wolf tearing into her. Rage flickered in him; he wanted nothing more than to toss Blackberry aside with his antlers and rush to her aid. But the goose was already on him.

Pride's head dropped as Blackberry reached him, still sparking up his magicka, eyes squeezing instinctively shut and ears flattening back. He looked like a stag about to charge--and, in some sense, he was.

It just wasn't to be physical. He could feel talons raking over his face, the hooked beak tearing at his cheek, but despite all her trappings, she was still just a goose. The pain she caused angered him; just what the hell did she think she was? He aimed to close that anger on her, to grab her with telekinetic magics--and, the searing heat on his flesh sparking a special sort of sinister revenge, to hurl her into Jayberry. He couldn't close the distance in time to help Enka--but perhaps his magic could.