Inhuman Relations #13
Stumbling forward, half blinded by dust and fear, you raise the bow like you would lift an axe, forgetting your years of archery training in an instance. Why did you not find an arrow or something to replace the missing implement before rushing into the fray? The dragon seems to smirk, if a dragon can smirk, seeing you as no real threat - something it can quash for sport and not out of necessity - and whips about suddenly, swinging its tail at your midriff. Too late, you flounder and kick off into the air, legs reaching to clear the limb, but it is no use at all as the tail collides hard with your thin legs and sends you sprawling, your bow flying out of your hand.
All your breath rushes from your lungs and you are no better than a sack of lead weights at the rate at which you are able to scramble upright again, swaying like a drunkard. The dragon snarls threateningly, hunkering low to the ground, perhaps thinking that it has warned you off now...or is it toying with you, like a cat toys with a mouse before crunching its bones into its next meal? More warily now, you set your hooves apart for balance, watching the dragon's tail anxiously as it thrashes reflexively - a nervous twitch - long spikes smashing into the rocks. You crouch low, looking for an opportunity to advance, and then see it: one of the dragon's spikes has been sheared off, though the beast does not seem to have noticed in its fury.
So, you're not invincible, are you? You think viciously.
Renewed by this revelation - its armour is not impenetrable! - you yell out a hoarse battle cry, charging forward like a colt in the field. Despite not having your only weapon in your hands, you bound valiantly for the dragon's head, clinging on to its straight horns and battering the more sensitive snout with your bare fists. Hissing, the dragon backs away, shaking a shower of blood droplets off its scales where your hard nails have cut through; you are stronger than previously believed and an exhilarating rush sears through your body like wildfire, fuelling your determination to greater heights. You remember now why you are doing this! You are doing this for your brother. And you will do this for your brother.
The dragon snaps at you, forcing you to retreat a few steps, giving up precious ground, and drives its bulk forward like a battering ram. It's a tangled mess of limbs, teeth and claws, all twisting together with one, determined aim: to tear you to shreds. Bravely, you advance on the monster, diving, without care for your safety, at the dragon's chest. You claw frantically at the tough hide, searching for a weakness, a gap between the scales - anything! Anything that might gain you an advantage. As if amused by your efforts now, the dragon snorts derisively, darting a thin tongue of fire out to lick at the rocks, so close that that heat scorches your tail. Your tussle with the beast is short-lived, however, and the dragon slams a clawed foot into your stomach, knocking you on to your rump as easily as it would swat a dragonet that had stepped out of line.
Written by Amethyst Mare on 25 June 2012
