"The forges of the North are no place for whimps like you!
He doesn't even flicker at your hit, just locking eyes with you.
His cold, iced eyes.>>209078
Spreading your wings and trying a liftoff amidst all the splinters of wood and steel that have fallen on you is no easy task, and the built buck just looks at you.
Why is he not charging?
Oh right, you were under a weapon rack.
Its content comes crashing down on you, buring you alive.
Helpless, but alive.>>209081
A blade to wield, a pony to stab, a shadow to hide in, no armor to protect him…
What could you ever want more?
And with masterful precision you cut the flesh open, exposing a large, gaping wound in the back of the Pony's neck. He then turns around and looks at you, his eyes still as cold as before, but his expression one of rage.>>209076
As you try to narrate the most epic tale you know, following the deeds of a certain Nylis the Demon-Hunter, your tounge stumbles on the details of her heroic ball-diving adventure back in fillyhood, and losing track of reality you mss the pony lunging at your neck.
He has sharp teeths, this I can tell you.
Helpless and pinned down.