Date: 2024-03-22 11:58 am (UTC)
27_53: (like a beast not like them)
From: [personal profile] 27_53
Inescapable death is an accurate description of what is about to happen to the man with the bow.

Skellig closes the distance and the first thing he does is flare his wings, a rush of air swirling and kicking up dust and dirt from the road, mixing in a brief whirlwind that merely serves to narrow his focus to himself and this man, this useless excuse for humanity that would dare hurt her.

(The swirl of sand is brief, only a heartbeat or two, but it is enough to sting the eyes. What happens next is not pretty.)

The arrow in his hand gets flipped around and plunged hard into the bandit's shoulder (shadowing the location where the other arrows rests lodged in Kreyu's flesh) and then his fingertips talons close swiftly around the shoulder and throat of the man, bones in his shoulder and chest breaking with a swift snap as unseen knives talons dig in, seeking the critical veins and arteries that run just behind the surface. There's blood on his hand, but he pays no attention.

Skellig forces the bandit to his knees (or does he fall from the pain?) and pins him there. Waiting. Watching the look in his eyes. Ignoring any attempts to bargain, any pleas for mercy.
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