With a sharp crack that echoed through the entirety of the complex, the ogre's whip landed square upon the side of Avispa's face. The sheer force and momentum behind the strike twisted her head to the side and sent her entire body spinning away. Drops of green fell through the air, landing with the softest drops upon the ground in comparison to the loud strike that had filled the air before.
Her body fell, landing limp upon the cracked stone of the hall, green blood dripping away from her face and staining both her form and the ground she lay upon. She hadn't dodged, she had not cried out, and she was most certainly now not moving. Not a sound came from her, but the aggressor advanced upon her without hesitation. Its work was not done, it had much more to do, so much more it would do. The hand rose high, clenching the massive whip in its fingers, and it prepared to strike...
...until that very hand bounced off of the beast's armored head. Following the loss, the ogre cried out in a blood curdling scream, its free hand reaching up to clench at its now-missing limb. There was no explanation why it had lost the limb, no reason that it should be in any danger, yet here it was; and now its remaining hand was descending past its own eyes, separated from its arm. With another scream, the beast raged for a few moments before its head joined with its hands upon the floor. Not a sound came of the beast's body save for the trickle of blood draining out upon the floor.
Stepping down to the floor, Cheriour made himself known. His rage had fueled his strikes. He had been both powerful and accurate, but at a cost. He had been too slow, too late. His bloodstained sword landed with a clatter to the floor at his side as he rushed forth. Why isn't she moving. Stumbling, he fell to his knees at her side and reached down to lift her form. She'd faced it alone when she hadn't stood a chance, and this is what the result had been. The dread weighing heavy on his heart lifted only slightly as her body twitched, a rush of green dribbling from her lips as she began to cough.
"Oh... Cheriour. Hello, yes... You saved me, didn't you...?"
If his fear and concern hadn't already been painted clear as day upon his features, they were now. The troll girl in his arms seemed as frail as paper and ready to simply be blown away by the wind. The single strike had opened a gash upon her face that still ran wet, blood running heavy from the wound. Had he been the slightest bit faster, she wouldn't have been like this; she would've been safe.
"Of course I saved you, Avispa; you're my Puzzle Goddess, after all."
A weak smile spread over his features, and he was thankful that his eyes remained hidden from view; he didn't his tears to be seen. He could've prevented this. He would prevent this. This wouldn't happen again. He wouldn't let it happen again. He would protect her, most of all. Slowly, very slowly he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers, briefly. So very briefly, but the single moment was all he wanted.
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With a sharp crack that echoed through the entirety of the complex, the ogre's whip landed square upon the side of Avispa's face. The sheer force and momentum behind the strike twisted her head to the side and sent her entire body spinning away. Drops of green fell through the air, landing with the softest drops upon the ground in comparison to the loud strike that had filled the air before.
Her body fell, landing limp upon the cracked stone of the hall, green blood dripping away from her face and staining both her form and the ground she lay upon. She hadn't dodged, she had not cried out, and she was most certainly now not moving. Not a sound came from her, but the aggressor advanced upon her without hesitation. Its work was not done, it had much more to do, so much more it would do. The hand rose high, clenching the massive whip in its fingers, and it prepared to strike...
...until that very hand bounced off of the beast's armored head. Following the loss, the ogre cried out in a blood curdling scream, its free hand reaching up to clench at its now-missing limb. There was no explanation why it had lost the limb, no reason that it should be in any danger, yet here it was; and now its remaining hand was descending past its own eyes, separated from its arm. With another scream, the beast raged for a few moments before its head joined with its hands upon the floor. Not a sound came of the beast's body save for the trickle of blood draining out upon the floor.
Stepping down to the floor, Cheriour made himself known. His rage had fueled his strikes. He had been both powerful and accurate, but at a cost. He had been too slow, too late. His bloodstained sword landed with a clatter to the floor at his side as he rushed forth. Why isn't she moving. Stumbling, he fell to his knees at her side and reached down to lift her form. She'd faced it alone when she hadn't stood a chance, and this is what the result had been. The dread weighing heavy on his heart lifted only slightly as her body twitched, a rush of green dribbling from her lips as she began to cough.
"Oh... Cheriour. Hello, yes... You saved me, didn't you...?"
If his fear and concern hadn't already been painted clear as day upon his features, they were now. The troll girl in his arms seemed as frail as paper and ready to simply be blown away by the wind. The single strike had opened a gash upon her face that still ran wet, blood running heavy from the wound. Had he been the slightest bit faster, she wouldn't have been like this; she would've been safe.
"Of course I saved you, Avispa; you're my Puzzle Goddess, after all."
A weak smile spread over his features, and he was thankful that his eyes remained hidden from view; he didn't his tears to be seen. He could've prevented this. He would prevent this. This wouldn't happen again. He wouldn't let it happen again. He would protect her, most of all. Slowly, very slowly he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers, briefly. So very briefly, but the single moment was all he wanted.
"I'll keep you safe."