For a moment, the painted dog felt drowsiness wash over him, but the next second it was gone. He chose to ignore it - there was no time to question anything right now. The dragon was turned away from him now, his failure had caused him to turn to things that were keeping him from murdering a child.

So, he turned to latch onto the dragon's tail with his claws once more, mouth opening to attempt clamp over the white scales. He didn't just keep his mouth still, in the flesh of the dragon, however. Violently, he drew his maw back to tear and rake at the dragon - it wouldn't kill him if he suceeded, of course, but it'd definitely cause blood to be drawn.



________________

@Baratheon

He had missed his lunge, or the wolf dodged. Either way his fangs snapped shut on air with an audible "click". Before he could recover the wolf was on him again. Her aim was to go for his throat and the dragon could see that. He thew his head to the side to redirect the bite to a less vulnerable part of his neck. Her hit caught him instead on the side of his long neck, partly on his thick fur and partly on the tough pink scales but it was a glancing blow. One that drew a little blood but nothing too serious.

Baratheon threw out one paw to try and knock her away before he steadied his legs and prepared to leap. However, something on his tail made him pause. He crouched, glaring hatred at the wolf while his ears twisted around backwards. towards the painted dog. That was the only indication of what he planned to do next. With a feral snarl he lunged, quick as a flash, straight towards the nuisance on his tail. The teeth were cutting through his fur to the skin underneath and that was unacceptable. He was also providing a weight to his tail which would overbalance him if he attempted to go after the wolf again. So, he would neutralize this threat first.

His fangs if they hit would sink into the dog's back in a bonecrushing grip and he would hopefully be able to grab the canine and throw him away.

---

words: 279
tagged: Delphine, Arkrael, Bones, Magdalena
ooc: Baratheon has a minor wound on the middle of his right wing arm, minor wound on the middle of his neck, partway down the middle of his tail chewed up
muse: 6/10

"Speech"
Thoughts

She shuddered and quaked, and every sound of the combating trio made her body twitch and drop lower in some form of defense against whatever onslaught may be headed her way. Magdalena could see nothing, had no reason to squeeze her eyes shut but she did anyways as if it provided some reprieve from the moisture that gathered along their rims. She didn't know what she was doing. She wasn't a protector. She wasn't strong enough to stop Baratheon if he decided to turn his fury on her. She would only shake and possibly act as another roadblock before he would pick her up and toss her aside. Why was he doing this? Why was he so disposed towards slaying the small child beneath her, and the two that valiantly fought to protect her? Unless... had Delphine done something wrong?

No, it was inconceivable. Even as she heard the horse suddenly nicker and her voice trembled into their air, Magdalena knew she was innocent. She had done nothing wrong. Baratheon was the monster; he'd taken her opportunity to influence the Booker, and now he was trying to take away Delphine. Magdalena blinked a few times, staring blindly at the horse and trying her hardest to draw a smile onto her lips, but it was shaking and unsteady. She wished the fighting away, closed her ears to the sound of violence and focused on that of Delphine's voice, letting the child's wavering intones remind her of innocence. Feel better. No. How? Me dirty. Magda clean. No. The blood would only turn black and crusty in her fur; it had no bearing on her. Her smile, too, struggled to remain aloft her lips but she breathed a nervous, hysteric laugh and shook her head. "Don't worry for me. It doesn't matter if I am clean or not, I cannot see." Magdalena reassured her quietly, desperately reaching out to the child. She wished... she wished there was something she could do to stop this!

Sucking in a quick breath, she focused again. She probed the area for Baratheon, but it was hard; the culture she had instilled within the dragon moved alongside him. Together they danced through space and time, an inconsistent speck in the darkness of her mind's eye as she tried and tried to isolate it, to see it, to affect it, somehow...

Post-Roll Edit:
There. The dragon had slowed his pace after having turned around and lunging at Bones. She was able to pinpoint him then and with all her might, she tried to grab at him. She reached out and wrapped every grip she could around the dragon and the bacteria in his body would fester, it would grow and swell and it would feed, and as it did she felt herself growing stronger, too. Her legs would no longer shake, and her head raised and blind eyes snapped towards the dragon with a snarl curled upon her lips. "Baratheon, STOP!" The dog called, in some desperate hope that her voice would rouse him from whatever fury had taken hold. Even if it didn't, she tried with all her might to stop him, to drain him of his energy so that maybe he would no longer pose such a threat.

Magdalena's reassurance wrung a gentle but pained nod from Delphine but there were no more words to be returned. In the midst of the heated battle and the spark of magic that flared from above, the young Gembound quickly faded into a darkness that was far more inviting than the sharp, acrid tang along her tongue and the dull throb ebbing and flowing throughout her whole body. She was cold and tired, yet most of all, she thought it would have been okay to rest, if only just for a moment. She'd been blessed enough to catch sight of this new room and most of all, someone came back for her.

The thought alone brought a smile to her lips before her eyes fluttered shut, fighting yet succumbing all at once to the croons of a place she was all too familiar with. That sweet limbo where there was nothing but her own thoughts and a loneliness she had never known before. So a shudder passed through her and as the battle raged on, her own waned. Just for a moment, she wanted to rest. And so she did.

(@Arkrael)

A grunt escaped the she-wolf as a large paw suddenly kicked into her side, effectively throwing her away from the large beast. Paws skidded across the moss covered floor, claws scraping divots as she went in an attempt to slow the movement. Hackles bristled as her nose quivered up, exposing her dangerous fangs once again. Her heart thudded as the beast spun around, aiming it's fangs at the canine behind him. It looked as if his strike would hit easily and Rae knew it was too late to try and intervene, but that didn't mean she couldn't tackle it again to attempt thwarting its plans once his fangs sunk home.

With another warning snarl Arkrael sprinted at the beast, intent on drawing it's attention right back to her. It took only a matter of seconds as the beast got a hold of the smaller canine before she lunged in. Hoping to collide hard against the beasts shoulder to throw him off balance and drag his attention right back to her.



Pic: sorry so shorty and short. Phone posts

((also on phone oops))

As Bones was thrown through the air he screamed and he barked wordlessly, tossed against one of the cave walls of Eridanus. The dog was still for a moment, before one leg jerked ever so slightly.

But the painted dogs attempts were more or less in vain as he quickly still limp, completely unmoving but his eyes remain wide open and breathing quickened, blood seeping out of his back.

He managed to get his fangs into that pesky wolf's back and even better threw it. The blood which came from the creature's body was tantalizing, tempting, and he began to edge towards it. He did that until the black wolf attempted to challenge him again by tackling him. His head swung to her then swung back to the broken dog, then to the bleeding foal. Indecisive. He needed to deal with the challenger and yet he wanted a morsel, a tiny bite to eat. He snarled angrily and swung a paw at the challenging wolf. He was going to get a good swipe in on her then go in for the painted dog for some extra damage when a new scent filled his nostrils. There was no blood in this smell... nothing that suggested danger but still it was off. Somehow in his crazed state the smell affected in a way that no other had. It made him feel.... fear.

His red eyes widened and he let out an angry roar, head turning in the direction of the new scent. He was conflicted. He wanted to fight... Wanted to eat, to rip, to tear... but he couldn't! This scent... It made him afraid and guilty, emotions that weren't native to his Bloodlusted self. He had to get away for now until he could get used to this new sensation. The final straw was when he felt a sudden sap on his strength, something pulling and tugging at him. Was this from the new scent? Had to be!

He gave another angered roar before releasing a burst of magic just in case anyone tried to get at him. Then, with a final snarl at the wolf he lifted into the air and began to fly away. Within moments he was gone, fleeing the seen before the fearbringer could get to him.

---

words: 283+
tagged: Delphine, Arkrael, Bones, Magdalena, Booker
ooc: -exit-
muse: 6/10

"Speech"
Thoughts

@Booker

Booker had awoken feet from the pool in Monoceros, startled awake by the feel of cold stone beneath his fur, rocks pressing up into skin, instead of the plush fur of his brother. The numbat had searched throughout the windy room for hours, then days, before finally leaving, trying to follow the lights. They were damaged in places, in some completely washed out, trampled on by something large - large enough to be Baratheon, but not enough to be the other dragon, the one who brought the fire and smoke. And so, the little Gembound traveled on, following pawprints, getting lost, finding more traces of his best friend, before finally arriving in Eridanus.

It was the second time he'd been, the first with the missing dragon himself, and Booker had just about reached the end of his proverbial rope. Baratheon hadn't been in Monoceros, nor in Orion, and he certainly couldn't have been in Polaris - and so the numbat had finally retraced his steps to the forest, comforted by the streams of light and sea of green that stretched out to span across the entire cave.

The Monarch stood up ahead, silver cap stretching up above the foliage, and Booker stopped beneath its shadow, panting, burns itching as they healed into scars, ears twitching this way and that for any noise. And oh, what noise shot through the air. Snarls and roars, screams of pain and growls, voices, so many voices, and Booker cringed closer to the mushroom's stalk, clenching his eye shut and curling up into a ball, shaking with every new sound, every fresh, thick wave of the scent of iron.

The longer the battle went on, the deeper he slipped into the past, head swimming with the heat of embers, lungs full of smoke. Coughing, Booker struggled to breath, scrabbling at his ears to block out the noise, claws digging into skin, tiny droplets of blood rising to the surface. The pain was distant, now, dull as he retched, nose clogged with the smell of burning moss and superheated metal.

Finally, finally, finally, the horde seemed to stop, the forest falling silent and still. Then, a final angry roar, powerful and deep, echoed through the trees, and Booker shrieked, hiding his face as the shadow of the beast flew overhead, wings beating. The numbat stayed, shaking, hidden among the ferns, until the noise faded, and the creature with it. Only then did he open his eye, wheezing, smoke-damaged lungs rocked with pain. Booker took in a slow breath, then another, until finally he was able to breathe without wincing in pain, and with that, he squared his tiny shoulders - and headed straight for the battlefield.

Tiny paws raced over earth, whiskers twitching wildly, trying to find the source of the noise. They might be hurt, like you were, it was the dragon, no, how could it have gotten here? It was in Polaris, there's no way - it must be, because there's only one other and - no. No. Booker moved through the shadows of the forest, finally reaching the clearing, peering out of the bushes. Immediately, the smell hit him like a punch: iron and gore, open wounds and bloodied mouths, the earth stained red. The victims of the beast's rampage were strewn about, all in various states of disarray, but the numbat stayed, frozen, scratching at his useless eye to try and stay focused. You need to help. You need to be better than this. They're hurt, they're - "M-Magda?"

His working eye widened in fear, watering, and Booker burst out of his hiding spot, racing towards the slender dog, fear and adrenaline giving him new energy. "Magdalena!" The dog was specked with blood, but she didn't seem wounded, just winded, and Booker slowed, confused, tilted his head - and his eyes stuck on what, exactly, she was guarding. "No. No." There, in the shadow of his friend, lay little Delphine. Still so young, so fragile, bleeding and broken, the foal who looked so much like Khloros that it sucked away his breath, leaving him panting and shaken, slowly moving forward and then running, darting about the young Gembound frantically, trying to figure out how to stem the flow, help her, somehow, do something!

Booker grimaced, grooming away what blood he could, stopping to dart glances at the others, wincing again when he noticed Bones, similarly wounded. "What happened? Who did this to you?"

@Delphine

After such an excess of magic use, the girl's limbs quaked. She shuddered and listened as one of the other dogs was suddenly thrown away by the beastly dragon, and the wolf tried to subdue him, but it seemed Baratheon was going to keep on fighting forever. Even her magic seemed to have no effect on him despite the amount of energy she had drained - she'd felt the surge of power renew her muscles and invigorate her health, and she knew that her cast must have been effective, but it didn't stop him. It seemed nothing could stop the beast and Magdalena had already hunkered down over the body of the child, hovering over her, her underside just barely grazing the horse's skin. She was ready to sacrifice herself for the sake of the filly; loyalty unfaltering, ruled only by her determination to make Nemesis proud.

Then, the air lit up with the sound of beating wings. There was a great gust of wind that caused Magdalena to furrow her brow and press her ears back, half expecting the beast to take to the air and launch at them - but the flush of wings continued and only lifted him up higher than the glade, suddenly taking off and away from the group. Had her cast been effective then? The dog frowned slightly and raised her head, staring blindly off into where Baratheon had disappeared to. But her heart was crashing in her chest and her stomach turning, she didn't know if the other two had even survived the onslaught and she feared speaking out if only to receive silence. Her long, sweeping tail swayed nervously behind her before a voice broke her out of her stunned silence.

Her name broken in half, a signature of the ones she'd met outside of the Merrymen. Magdalena snapped her head towards the source of the sound, her hair all standing on end before recognizing it. Booker. This caused her to adopt an expression of confusion and pain - what had he been doing here, and how could he let Baratheon do this? Yet just as she was about to accuse him for allowing the beast to attack them, he fretted over them and asked who had done it. The dog shook, shifting her head to gaze out at where she thought Arkrael and Bones could be, then back down to the horse, battered and broken from the fight. "Baratheon." She spoke, and though it was only one word, it was enough to break her voice. Confusion and pain bled through her vocals - mostly anger, for the feeling of being betrayed. Magdalena shook her head and slowly removed herself from above the horse, folding her legs beneath her as she gently nosed the filly - tracing her nose along the filly's shoulder, then neck, and finally the loam of her ears, tenderly licking her short fur.

@Delphine

Voices waded from beyond the surface as if she were drowned within an ocean yet to her own dismay, Delphine found herself wanting for nothing more than to curl within the confines of her oasis. There was no reprieve in the pain that awaited but she also knew, well and true, that to wish for quiet was to succumb to weakness. No sooner had she hatched would she be tested. It had been a fault of her own to desire for company where there were surely others who were not so fortunate as to have met as many as she. As such, she'd failed.

Once more the voices sounded, snippets of conversation that drifted to the barely conscious filly. 'Magda-... No... Who... Barath-' Dull pain lanced through Delphine and her eyes shuddered half-mast, barely registering the ebb and flow of consciousness until a gentle warmth, nudged along her shoulder, neck and ears. She reveled in the minuscule gesture and exhaled a soft sigh. She would have spoken. She would have moved. But she was too weary to entertain even the idea of it and this time, it was not weakness that felled her but an excessive loss of blood that demanded the young Gembound rest.

So she did, warming to the small nougat of hope that perhaps she would awaken to company, even if her inability for solitude was perhaps the sole reason she was in her position now.

(Feel free to skip Phin for a turn, unless there are immediate countermeasures being taken for her wound! @Arkrael)