Sawtooth Spire illumination

dust rises in blue around the snorting stallion, his power magnificent. moro watches from high above, one paw dangling from the broken bough she rested upon. 

they speak. she flicks an ear. manes fly as the older stallion rears, striking stone again in a show of vigor. 

alone, the injured stallion would make an easy meal; but there’s no getting around his bodyguard. one well placed kick would spell the end for her, not him. 

she must resign herself to the hope that bloodloss and infection will reach where her fangs cannot. 

silent while stones clatter around her, moro watches the wounded one go. 

come night, his blood trail will guide huntress to kill.