[[Bryn Knows CPR!]] - Tumblr Posts
13th-dragon-prince--[Prior]
Disoriented, a bit bruised maybe, but mostly really dizzy, eventually something stopped his trajectory with a suddenness that left the La’Mellaen fool with his eyes closed as the world spun around his senses, trying to get his bearings; ending up with just a mirthful laugh before laying down with a sigh. He trusted Bryn to have the rest of the game for the next few moments.
︻デ═一・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
The lilting tone of Whillow's confirmation told Bryn all he needed to know, the Sergeant readyin g his weapon, tracking the beast as it flew around and then after his mount, praying that he had timed everything right, that his poor chocobo would be just out of harms reach, and that he would get lucky with his shots.
Bryn was ready, ready to shoot and punch a hole through a wing, to rapid fire if needed, but his gaze flicked to Whillow, in surprise and admiration, as the wily half-dragon went sprinting towards a wall and just...climbed it. He was up high so fast, that Bryn barely had time to comprehend what he was doing. All he could realistically do was shoot him a questioning look,
Featherflame was having an absolute moment of panic. She was not running now because her owner had told her, no she was running because death was right behind her. And her little bird brain did not want to get snuffed out just yet, instincts demanding she run as hard as possible towards the two people who could save her. Her eyes were fixed on Bryn as she ran, panic evident in her fwees of distress, taloned feet kicking up dirt as she noted that the other new rider was up high, no time to think as to why he was up there, the little beast hardly a concern when the large one had her tail feathers in it s mouth, and that meant that there was a--
Whillow jumped, flew, and Featherflame looked up in shock, a little sounds of surprise escaping the beaked mouth, and then Whillow was on top of the dragon, and Featherflame was no longer in danger.
Bryn's mouth actually dropped open. He had not expected Whillow to do that, frankly, he wouldn't have thought the most insane person in the world would jump onto the back of an angry dragon! Instead of angrily scowling, he found himself in awe. The leap, the timing, the sheer strength it took to rip down the dragon's neck and through scales, it was all...it spoke to the fighting prowess that Whillow had just in his instincts and body. But, even as the little dragon dragged down the larger beast's back, it was all unrefined. There was no tactical moves, or focused attack, it was just wild slashes, bites, full on animal.
Still, the job was done, a wing ripped free of its connecting sinews, the next lunged upon with a frenzy, and suddenly, the dragon was plummeting towards the ground, its passenger clinging to its back, Bryn tracking the dragon as it fell and skidded against the dirt--
"WHILLOW!" He roared the black scaled dragon's name as the petite man was launched, the soldier rising up and sprinting towards the now beached dragon as he levelled his rifle at hip level, a full on sprint. Featherflame went flying past him, in the opposite direction, a questioning squeak as to what Bryn was thinking, the dragon thrashing about as Bryn pulled the trigger. The bang echoed, the ball of aether slamming into the dragon's chest, puncturing scales, his chest, a lung within it, as Bryn kept running. His thumb pressed to the firing mechanism, using the aether within him to rapidly charge the next shot, his eyes gleaming angrily as he felt the next shot ready, and firing again. Still roaring from the first, the second shot slammed into its exposed neck, choking off the roar and causing the beast to posture, head coming down, eyes angrily searching for who had just hurt them, and finding Bryn right there, bayonet fixed, and rifle levelled.
The blade slammed into the large beasts skull, the Sergeant twisting his rifle with a roar of his own, booted foot slamming into the top of the dragon's snout, keeping it closed as he saw its eyes focus on him, angry, hurting, and Bryn just growled out, "This is for Whillow!" And pulled the trigger.
There was no sound, the concentrated, heated aether going from barrel into skull seamlessly, blasting out through the neck of the beast, and Bryn watched as the light slowly faded from its gaze. He panted, heavily, glancing down, and then realized he was covered in ichor from that last shot, wrenching the bayonet free, turning towards his mount and--
"Whill!" He was running, eyes searching, finding the little dragon laying on the ground right up against a tree, where he had rolled to a stop as the soldier sprinted towards him, rifle slung over his back as he yelled again, "Whill!" Skidding to a knee next to the dragon, his hand pressed to his chest, to feel for a heartbeat, his eyes going wide as he didn't feel one, or at least not one he was familiar with, his breath sucking in as he rumbled out, "No, come on you little bastard! Wake up!"