Nocturne Summit New Bohemia

The taste of blood proved them to be equally matched, although Cicero's rage was better under control than hers, it so seemed. It was amazing to see such a frightened small female spring. It was amazing what fear could do to the mind. He could see that she was not herself and for a moment, Cicero wondered if he had made a mistake — for both of their sakes — by inviting her to fight him, to hurt him, to punish him for something that he had not done and relinquish her control. Yet Cicero did not value life as most did and truthfully, were he to die on this fateful day, so be it. Even making mistakes made him feel nothing short of alive. And the fact that she had a Sheogorath (of sorts) inside of her that reared its ugly head now made him feel less afraid of his own demons.

Yet he would try to spare himself, for her sake. The pain throbbing in his neck made him feel alive, and it seemed they were fairly well-matched; though he had more fighting experience because he had fought with Damien often, Cicero was small and physical strength was not his forte.

When she backed off, Cicero called out: "Watch out," for despite the physicality of their meeting, he did not wish harm to befall her or for her to die a gruesome death by falling off a mountain.

No harm befell her, however, and she sprang right back towards him. He could see the unmitigated rage in her eyes and he could not help but feel sorrow for whatever had happened for her. All he could hope was that it was not too late for salvation and for fixing some of what was broken.

For now his only option was to fight, for that was what he had promised her he would give. Cicero rammed his shoulder in her direction when she went for his throat, deciding it a better place for her anger. While he felt the pleasant stain of pain and the encouraging adrenaline run through his veins Cicero nipped towards her flank and back as best he could, almost as if he were truly assuming the role of her outer demon while she battled with her inner one.