"What if I fall?"
Oh but darling
What if you fly?
Oh but darling
What if you fly?
2nd of Cylus, 718
- She had almost escaped.
Almost.
The momentum from her struggle gave her enough power to shake the intimidator off but he was ready to keep his victory. His fingers dug painfully into the flesh of her thigh, pulling at the fabric and stopping her progress. Beneath his weight her ribcage was crushed, restricting her breath, "Yes, well," Navyri tried squirm but she was tired. Noth was like a dead weight upon her and with her limbs pinned, there was little room for any counter attack, "Not all of us weigh as much as a house."
She grimaced and tried to shift, her hair being pulled from beneath her shoulder. It was uncomfortable, and the woman hoped to see what options she had but without Curio's help was stuck, "You know," she stretched her fingers but even then they barely graced the mace's handle that rested at Mercy's hip. There was no way she could steal it from his possession, "Naerikk blood is poisonous in prolonged contact. I would advise you go wash your face."
Navyri offered the information with a straight face, observing his red eyes in such close proximity. What was it that made him scary? Was it his dark feathers? The blue tint to his skin? Or the intensity of his gaze? If she had to pick, it was not his features that stuck her as so unnerving, but the way he carried himself - ready to do whatever necessary to dominate his opponents. They were similar in this regard (him more so, apparently) and she would have respected it had she not been reminded of the other Avriel that wanted to control her. If she could not even best Mercy, what was her chances of survival when Garizma found her?
Finally smirking to hide her thoughts, the Naer was interested to see if he had believed her lie.The longer they laid there and the echoes of their attacks faded into silence, the more the fog of battle seemed to dissipate and the tension left her body. Before any uncomfortable silence could fall between them, she patted the ground twice in quick succession. While she would not vocalize it, it was a tap out - a yield, or enough of one to prompt him to roll off her. She would very much like to breathe again, "I'm not serious, you know," Naer blood had plenty of curious properties, but toxicity was not one, "Look."
Relieved when he lifted himself from her, she took a deep breath, and then sat up, bringing her ankle close, "It's just shadow. A temporary spill before it rejoins me or the darkness in this room." Tightening her jaw, she dipped her finger into the ripped leather of her boot, her finger coated in the blackened substance, "In darkness," If one looked very close, they might notice tendrils of the liquid shifting in the dim light of the torches, as if reaching for a home, "I can regenerate."
"If I was to rest in my quarters, there might not be any trace of your attack by morning. But you knew this, did you not, Naer-Slayer?"
Navyri was smirking, watching him with eyes that burned with pride and curiosity. Was her race not an almost divine creation? And now she had wing. In time, she would grow to be a force to be reckoned with, "So," the dark haired woman began inspecting the damage of her shoe, and then gave a sigh of disappointment as she ran fingertips over the damage, "When you came here, were you looking for me, or was it a pleasant surprise?"