Dragoncrest Cliffs Gleypa

I’m sorry this took so long, everyone! This had a lot of joiners ;w; so I got a little overwhelmed.

Here is the plan: You will decide injuries to your characters. Heim’s movements will be generalized/vague in this post so that YOU get to determine what happens to your wolves. This includes – possibly – striking Erzulie so hard that she vomits out her poison. This is your choice, Ebony. I mostly felt bad she took the poison without getting the killing shot on Heim. Anyone who attempted a bite will have landed it. The bear is going to run away with a small amount of poison in him. He’ll be sick/vomiting/gross for a while and will likely leave Sapphique alone… for now. <3

Wing – if I am picking where the strike lands, I’ll go with a hip shot.

If this doesn’t jive with you, please let me know. I’m not trying to be a pooper on this beautiful party. I merely didn’t plan to have him die so soon. ;w; <3 Thank you all for writing with me.

Please do not fret. The chance will come to kill the bear. Just not quite yet.

Barking madness had surrounded the world eater.

Each of them lunged for him with their nasty fangs. They scored against his flesh, ripping new wounds into his large frame. The bear was not deterred until their numbers grew. Like rabbits, the dogs multiplied before him. He saw dark ones, red ones, white ones, and all of them carried hatred and bloodlust in the glints of their eyes.

The hunger was not enough to drive him into their mass of swarming bodies.

Heimsætur swung his giant paws at them. He found purchase in a few. The frenzy of it was too much to know where they landed or if they rose to fight again. If he was lucky with his blows, he would have knocked some of them into each other. He felt that as soon as he had marked one with his claws, another was driving their fangs into his flesh. Anger buried his senses. He roared. The world eater aimed a powerful blow at them.

Rearing back to stand tall upon his hind legs, Heimsætur created a modicum of space between his figure and the biting ants. His dark eyes did not seek them. He turned his blocky head to the trees. Sniffing at the cold wind, the bear dropped to all four legs in a thud.

It was not so easy to kill something. Living things clung to their lives, against all hope. The end was always there, but the urge to escape it was powerful. Heimsætur knew that he must flee to survive. One last swipe of his paw was made at the dogs. Spittle dripped from his dark mouth as he roared to them.

Then the bear turned and fled into the wilderness. It tasted something sour upon its tongue. Several miles away from the seaside cliff, Heimsætur vomited into the snow. Again and again, his stomach churned with sickness. Poison had crept into his body.