Barrow Fields And under mountains in the moon

still the chaos outside of her vision whirled on. a nick of her hocks by some fleeing assailant was barely registered, for caiaphas' attention was fastened to the beast her teeth had sunk into.

a glut of crimson rivulets sprung from her maw, the rush of warm blood tinging her fur a matted pink as they struggled. her eyes flashed with triumph: soon this dogged cur would be eviscerated, and she would be the rightful victor.

abruptly, vercingetorix ripped from her grasp with a sickening pop -- where her fangs had rested a welt of flesh hung, subcutaneous tissue flapping and exposed. the wretch's blooded features upturned in a smile, her teeth filmy with crimson -- just as he lunged to her, she rose to meet him.  his fangs landed with a heavy thud deep within the scarred tissue of her neck, holding fast the snarled knotwork of tissue that had only just begun to close.

oh, it hurt -- but victory, victory hurt much less. she gritted her teeth as she drove in return, a tight snarl finally breaking her composure. she was so certain victory was at hand, so confident in her ability, that this time she did not go for throat again. she went for the bridge of his muzzle to force his head downwards and deliver terrific pain. it was the final salute -- a vehement kiss before the dragedan fell in eternity's black pool.

may he know nothing but shame as death embraced him -- may the last thing vercingetorix ever saw be the smirking features of rusalka's spidery wraith.