They didn't pick up words, but instead were dancing around those grasping claws and snapping teeth. There's the playfulness! Kesil twittered eagerly, "oh-kay! There's the fun and play!"

Wings spread at their sides, too small to be useful for any true flight, but enough to do a few things when aided by magic. They slalomed forwards, zig-zagging between hooked claws and leaping up and up.

Wouldn't it be fun if they sat on Beastie's head?

ASSAULT.

Wholly provoked, Alpha's throat thrummed with a bellowing cry. Quills rattling fiercer and fiercer, the orthoclase slipped almost seamlessly into full combat mode, predatory instinct kicking into overdrive as wings fluttered and a weight fell on its face.

No.

One arm lifted while the other braced, grasping for that obnoxiously long tail. Dragging its claws through feathers and finding purchase, the kaiju jerked its head down. Front half lurching forwards, its left elbow ground through the dirt as it tried to drive Kesil into the earth.

Oh, they were being grabbed - they squealed eagerly - and then they were meeting the earth with painful force. Kesil gasped sharply as the wind was knocked out of their lungs, ribs compressing painfully beneath the pressure. Given their unfamiliarity with the actual feeling of hurt, they had to bite down a bloodcurdling screech and consider the most optimistic option: Beastie just doesn't know how to be gentle!

In those precious few seconds before the next round of attack, the noodle squirmed and wheezed, "hey, hey! THAT HURTS! YOU'RE HEAVY AND THAT HURTS!"

Birds scattered around the scene.

Stage 2... again :(

Kesil was whining underneath it, and it couldn't care less until it made its point, put its teeth in this thing's neck, laid waste to it. If it didn't kill them now, something else would come along and do the job - Alpha hated when other things did its job, wreaking havoc and destroying what couldn't take its assault.

The orthoclase didn't respond, just shifted to plant a claw on their chest and another on their tail, lifting its head to screech and be annoyed, angry, many other emotions that started with an "a."

But, a stray, writhing claw caught it by the quills and it flinched enough for Kesil to roll out of the hold, but they didn't get up.

still in stage 2 due to kesil being winded :(

Kesil rolled over, the force of the motion enough to send their world smearing in an overly bright kaleidoscope of colors. They wheezed again, "hh-hey!"

Eyes half-closed, the noodle flexed their claws, tried to get their legs underneath themselves, "did you - hear me? That hurt. That's... not... nice."

Oh.

This was a monster - and it was coming back.

Couldn't even get up after being SLAMMED ONE TIME!

It didn't make Alpha as angry - or complex-fuelled - as the ice-breathing dragon's weakness did, but it was still furious. "RUN!" it howled, prowling forwards with harsh, thundering steps and shaking out its mane of quills, eyes near-closed with its baleful mood.

Claws found their mark, fitting surprisingly well around Kesil's throat, right by the jugular. The orthoclase hissed, moving quickly to stand right over the hybrid, crouching slightly and pressing against flailing wings and limbs. It was inefficient and emotional, but it bellowed in their face: "I heard you, unlike YOU! GET UP.
RUN! ANY MORE WEAKNESS AND I'LL RIP YOU TO PIECES."

Neon spittle dripped from its jaws as it leaned down, "SHOW ME THAT YOU DESERVE TO KEEP LIVING."

They're kicking out, rabbit's-pace heart kicking at their abused ribcage and choking at their throat.

Kesil found themself too deep into panic to parse every word smashed into their head, only the bits and bobs that didn't serve to help their state. Beastie was like the monsters in Fornax - if they were in water, Kesil was sure they'd see their own blood spilling all around. Head twisting, the hybrid winced at the feeling of hot wet trailing down their throat.

They had to go.

There it is, Alpha's thoughts barked, watching the hybrid twist and squirm, trying their damnedest to escape from its grasp. Don't be confused, though - there was no sick pleasure to be derived from watching something suffer at its feet. It wasn't armed with a penchant for torturous violence and patient gleaning like its Overseer; no, no, it was quick, brutal, thirsty for a struggle, a challenge.

Kesil was hardly providing one, but they were providing.

The orthoclase, however unfair it was, kept applying its weight, settling down further on the noodle and hissing, "FIGHT!"

Its teeth bared, getting closer.

"FIGHT!"

Caves knew they were trying, writhing as best their body could provide, tail half-coiled around an armored hind leg to no avail. Eyes fluttered to and there, focusing and then dilating again - letting in too much light.

Those eyes were getting closer, closer, they could feel the monster's breath fanning across their face; smell the wretched, half-rotten carcass and saccharine-sweet reek of it. Kesil's arms flailed up to push it away, poke it in the eyes, anything.

stage three... activate :(

Kesil This hybrid could struggle all it wanted, but in the unfair game of war - without any magic or brute-force - it was slated for inevitable death. Alpha didn't couldn't feel bad, it didn't know better.

It was angry and destructive.

It was merciful.

Jaws came down.