Grimoire’s calculating eyes narrowed as Orion pulled his cheek away from her. The masseter muscle was located in the cheek. It was a mystery if she had done significant damage to it because of the blood pushing through the long gashes. She snorted, annoyed that missing her target forfeited both carving into facial muscle and the shriek she desired. He gave her a strangulated yelp instead. The noise jump-started defensive movement; since she’d missed, he’d be coming at her for a third attack.

As he rose onto his hind legs, Grimoire pivoted away, spinning right. Her injured leg was stiff, so she flexed her muscles around it and used it as an axis. The weight forced on it made her jaw clench as her paws cycled around. Stiffness of her right leg was not her only motivation to expose her left side; she was guarding the right side of her neck, where another aimed hit could be fatal.

The distance created between them was enough to void the leverage Orion’s position had briefly gained him and changed the angle of his assault. Instead of a solid grip on the looser skin of the dorsal side of her neck, Orion’s teeth slashed over the dense fur of her scruff, leaving skin slits in the pattern of his longer teeth behind. The pull of the wound was far more agonizing than feeling her skin splitting. All tissues of the body were connected, and him pulling skin left tugged on the wound of her right-side jugular area. Her gate hitched in the moment Orion’s teeth were slicing over her. When she felt his teeth free, Grimoire leaped forward to create more distance. She turned toward him, looping around at a long-legged pace.

Her breath was disturbed from their vicious bout and came in heavy, irregular inhales. She used her gate to time it and regain control of its rhythm. Her cruel vision held Orion in focus as she took brief reprieve. It was expected of angelic souls to purify the world by removing criminals. In opposition, it should be expected of demonic hearts to taint the world by instigating aggression.

Grimoire needed to make enemies as surely as wolves needed to eat, but beyond need, was joy. She enjoyed the moment when a hero broke, though such an event was rare. First, an angel needed to be discovered and then sharpened to the point of heroism. The last step, to ensure the perpetuation of the conflict necessary for cleansing the weak, was to break or remove such a figurehead. The world was in flux around the figures stripping flesh from each other. Were they in a chapter where the hero found their magic, golden sword to slash away enemies in a coming slaughter or were they in the preface, where the villain creates the dystopia in which heroes were born to end?

Grimoire was present to push the story into reality and manipulate the grand scheme in the Demon’s favor. The ideas of a Golden age of Terror polluted her mind and like all evil things, the idea of power corrupted her shriveled heart by filling it with dreams of hardship and pain.

The finale of the battle drew near with the climax of who prevailed determining years of events to come. Blood loss was weakening the pair of them; she knew the next tussle would decide who dominated because one of them would collapse. Her circling took on a predatory stalk instead of a recovery pace… The bell was ringing - maybe it was just the buzzing of addiction in her ears or the whine of eagerness in her throat. Time for round two.

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Scene: Early morning, no wind, fair weather
Terrain: Grassy field of Diveen, tall grass

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Introduction [x]
Attack 1 [x]
Defense 1 / Attack 2 [half dodge, x]
Defense 2 / Attack 3 [full hit, x]
Defense 3 / Conclusion [x]