“Daff,” she called back to the piss-colored brute. “Fuck her up bad!”

The lumbering buck approached me with a nasty grin. “With pleasure!” He spun and kicked. HARD!

Pain exploded through my breast. I found myself flying back through the air. I crashed through the rotted remains of what had once been a hot dog stand (with a picture of Pinkie Pie slathering on the mustard).

I was struggling to get onto my feet when he slammed into me at full gallop, sending me sprawling. I thought I heard a rib crack. Breathing was becoming painful.

The buck trotted up to me as I fought to catch my breath and reared up. Without armor, I was afraid he’d break my back, so I twisted. He compensated, his hooves coming down in my stomach, knocking any wind I had out of me. I coughed, tasting blood.