Wisdom dipped his head in preparation for what was sure to come. Beneath him, he could see the shadow of Osha's horn perched upon his own forehead. The transformation to unicorn should have taken his kind by surprise. No Lo-ans'rel took the form of Nature's legendary chosen. Yet his people were so obsessed with their task that little else mattered.
The bear's gaping jaws let out a roar in a sign of charge. Without hesitation, Healers burst through the projected flames, unafraid.
With a toss of mane, Wisdom reared and let out a high-pitched whinny. On cue, the Simpleton's dropped the shield disguising Alexander's readied troops. With heated weapons and heavy armor, it was their only defense against the nimble Healers. All too soon, the humans were being pushed back.
Neither prince nor his father were without quick gashes along the flank. Already, ribbons of crimson contrasted against alabaster fur, and a throbbing reminder to reconsider his next moves. Although his father was not known for boisterous transformations, the bear certainly made for a challenge. A bold kick with a cloven hoof left a good impression across his father's left shoulder, and soon both were back to circling each other. Atop his forehead, Wisdom could feel the horn pulsating to the throbbing pain along his side. When it slightly lessened, a quick glance confirmed his wounds healed.
THANK YOU, he thought. With the ground burnt, there was little else he could use for healing. At least, Osha allowed temporarily relief. And yet he had taken a form with a weapon he was forbidden to use. Several attempts to swipe at his father using the horn suddenly found his course diverted. At each try, the horn veered away. I GET IT. NO USING THE HORN.
IT IS ONLY A VESSEL TO THE SOUL, a tender thought lingered amidst the shouts of battle surrounding them.
Though Wisdom dared not break eye contact with his father, he managed to spare a mental probe to the whereabouts of Alexander and his men. The forrest warrior was able to handle himself well against the few Healers who got past first defense. However, the prince became alarmed to learn their cooling armor was not being replaced fast enough. Although Alexander did his best to get what the men needed, they were swiftly falling prey to the various shifted forms or solid sword thrusts. The dance of magic sprang into Healers' movements, making it nearly impossible to keep up.
There came a sudden shout,"Incoming!" before one of Lorens' sons tossed a newly heated bucket of hot embers into the fray. Healers scattered at the oncoming rain of pain. Those with shields raised them quickly to secure their own safety. The pause of battle allowed Peter Schevolsky to quickly dart through the crowd to exchange weapons. For ones further across the field, Ertho and a few others sprang to the sky for delivery.
"Watch it!" The brief warning was all the harpy needed to avoid two Healers shifting after him. In a swift barral-roll, he let the weapons drop where soldiers waited in order to shake off his two assailants. Two golden eagles went down when the large wings of the harpy swapped them both over the heads.
Wisdom grinned inwardly. Thus far, only he or his brother could mix animal shifts to produce anything larger for flight. The eagles were the best his kind could do. The bear, on the other hand, was a whole different matter, and it was right back to kick and dash from a countering blow. Blood splattered across his father's face, one eye swollen shut after a direct hit.
Something struck Chronicles' hide. With a grunt of pain, a flash of silver eye turned to a gold-striped dagger dangling from his fur.
In an instant, Wisdom knew whom had thrown it and sought Ashpin through the crowd. Before he could locate him, though, Chronicles charged through the ranks with an agitated roar. Men went down with little effort. A paw swipe flung several aside like swatting flies.