Anduril post

Distance, a clarity blessed by patience, by waiting, a game that he had known since the moment he bore the weight of iron seal, a kingsguard to a malevolent rule. Eyes wide open, a token of luck in the hunger, the thirsting riot, a pause in the mutiny of a body betraying noble cause. How easy it was to fall to the addiction of taste, sight, and smell; the sulfur of split earth, the iron of blood flowing free. From here, he could see her anger, could taste the magic, potent in its unfurling fury. The bond had been broken, that one true defense in defeat; she allowed emotion to fuel her actions. The one greatest foe upon another, the one true weakness, the mortality of a finite heart. Fluttering in the chest, a bird trapped in iron shackles, so easily crushed. His claws, tightening, tightening, the bird growing ever more frantic, wings of gossamer feathers, crumbling. All around, his cold resolve rained, blinding, bright, pure unadulterated magic. Foolish girl, taking within her body things she did not know, water, poisoned in the well. Light that was no light, for how could mere moonshine burn through flesh, cut branches from tree, etch runes into stone. The powers of another, foreign invaders, now within her flesh.
Tactics changed. His precious light, the vorpal sword of the witches gift turned to golden rains, fine dust, molted beneath the blush of the moon mother. A man of sinew and bone, tensed from learned movements, a war monger of infernal desires. Andurïl reached out towards her, gnarled fingers outstretched, embracing her picture in his hand, stroking the curves of violet flesh. Light may have been his vessel, yet it was magic that gave venom to the serpent, teeth to the wolf, living energy of the soul. A spirit well learned in converting from the holy lantern to the veils ghoulish mantle. Vantablack, shadow, darkness, his most coveted place. He reached within, visualizing her body, stripping away the flames and earth, the brimstone wall she painted upon herself to the fragile skin below, the maidens ivory body, bare beneath the gossamer silks and transparent opalescent bridal gown. His magics within, grabbing hold, his fist clenched. The lethargic energy turning to shadowed daggers, sharp barbs inside. If he could not tear her from outside, he would rend her from within.
Lunas body shifted than, contorted beneath the toxic touch of her invader. And Andurïl, his teeth bared, shifted his feet, feeling the lunge beneath his feet, the snapping jaws of a queen made to fight against her people. "You would dare to sully the mother's mortal body with your touch?" The sour scowl, he ignored the bite of the thorns against his heels, a reenactment of the saga of Achilles. He would not kneel. He cast inside his poisonous gaze upon her. He would not fall by the hand of this young god, this Luna of this world not his own. A derelict of worlds was meant to perish in the void.
Andurïl vs Rionanch in Dominance fight for Lunar Tree Fruit
Round 3 of 4
Reply due by
December 6 (technically but asap for fruit event)
Dodges used One-half dodge to prevent his feet from being impaled, only for the thorns to scrap off his limbs, causing minor lacerations in the back of his legs.

Attack Summary
Connecting to his magic that Rionanch absorbed into her body, placing it within a vessel of shadow, making sharp barbs of shadow within her body, to cause pain and cut through flesh.

Injury Summary
Small puncture wounds on the roof of his mouth and on the center of his tongue, bruised from the slow, heavy  pressure he applied to break the quills in his mouth. Minor lacerations along the back of his legs where the thorns reflected off his scales and scraped over his bare flesh.