The hounds are the lucky ones - they are simply dogs, and have better sense than to be making an effort to capture and kill a dragon! Running in terror is truly the best choice!
Skellig was mostly prepared for the horses to panic; perhaps not quite this much panic, his horse frantically rearing and making an effort to shed the weight of the rider (him) in an effort to flee. Even with using his wings to correct his 'flightpath' as he is unceremoniously booted off the rear of the animal, he rolls quickly to his stomach on the grass to avoid getting kicked or trampled, nudging both the animals and other hunters HARD to avoid him.
Definitely not the most graceful dismount.
Grunting, he pushes himself up to his feet, then uses his wings to make haste for the nearest edge of the meadow, ducking into the trees - knowing it is probably wisest if he simply stays out of the way and allows her to take care of things. The hunters are no match for her, even with their bows, arrows, and spears.
(But even as he leans against the trunk of a tree and watches her handle things, he can feel fear and the sick taste of his anxiety rising up in the back of his throat as he sees arrows fly through the sky - they bounce harmlessly off of her scales, but the memories are still too vivid in his mind to ignore entirely.)
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-06-23 03:06 am (UTC)Skellig was mostly prepared for the horses to panic; perhaps not quite this much panic, his horse frantically rearing and making an effort to shed the weight of the rider (him) in an effort to flee. Even with using his wings to correct his 'flightpath' as he is unceremoniously booted off the rear of the animal, he rolls quickly to his stomach on the grass to avoid getting kicked or trampled, nudging both the animals and other hunters HARD to avoid him.
Definitely not the most graceful dismount.
Grunting, he pushes himself up to his feet, then uses his wings to make haste for the nearest edge of the meadow, ducking into the trees - knowing it is probably wisest if he simply stays out of the way and allows her to take care of things. The hunters are no match for her, even with their bows, arrows, and spears.
(But even as he leans against the trunk of a tree and watches her handle things, he can feel fear and the sick taste of his anxiety rising up in the back of his throat as he sees arrows fly through the sky - they bounce harmlessly off of her scales, but the memories are still too vivid in his mind to ignore entirely.)