Ankyra Sound stop i could've dropped my croissant

Rose had never doubted the sea witch’s ability in battle, but it became increasingly clear as the fight went on that the russet girl was heavily outmatched. Her moment of victory lasted no longer than a second before her opponent had the kru between her jaws, literally. This time it was her leg that was struck first, a hiss slithering from her lips as teeth drug along the tender flesh and spilt blood into the sand. The girl had attempted to backpedal away but whatever plan she had been brewing was quickly shot down when a sudden surge of pain shot through her leg. More damage had been dealt than she realized, an amateur mistake that crippled any chance she had of returning a wound.

With eyes still stinging and red, Rose couldn’t dodge the attacks as well as she had hoped and while she had gotten lucky on the first attempt at her throat, the russet girl wasn’t so fortunate with the next few. The siren lunged, missing her original target but still landing a blow that narrowly missed the kru’s jugular. The second strike was much cleaner and precise, it struck true and with a yelp Rose felt the pressure on her neck increase violently. Something inside of her told her to flee, to get out of this situation as quickly as she could, but it was no use. No amount of tugging was capable of freeing her from the elder woman’s jaws and the fiery yearling soon felt the nausea begin to spin around in her stomach.

She had liked to believe she never feared death but, now that it was staring at her right in the face, every bit of courage she had built up came crashing down in an instant. She went stiff, anxiously awaiting for the pressure on her neck to increase and for it to all just end. But whether it be out of fear or foolishness, Rose sought after the tiniest bit of hope there might be and let herself relax, leaving herself at the complete mercy of her opponent. Any incantation of opposing the sea witch was visibly gone from her posture as shaky breaths escaped her, body shivering involuntarily as she awaited either death or something equally as horrid.