Chapter Text
Kraith barely felt as Ireleth got struck, but she felt the drop in weight as she was torn from her saddle. For a brief, terrifying moment she thought she had died on her and returned to the forges; but, as she threw her wings up and backflipped she spotted her falling down into the ranks of the Hedonites they fought.
She dove after her rider, whips and spears mere pinpricks against her scales, she managed to briefly reunite with Ireleth, but tumbled and was forced to drop her so as to not crush her on impact. At least she’d survive the meeting with the…
Kraith threw her wings out all too late.
SLAM
She pulled herself from the not insignificant crater she’d made and groaned. Her wing-shoulder felt… wrong, and pain radiated out in starbursts up her neck and down her chest.
She probably couldn’t fly like this.
Where was Ireleth?
Her eyes tore around the field until she spotted her, locked in melee with the Hedonite’s war leader.
She tore off into a sprint, towards the certain death that awaited them both. Maybe, maybe, if she was fast enough she could get her and book it.
As she closed the distance a unit of Seekers of Slannesh intercepted her. She trounced one of them stupid enough to get directly between them, but the others trailed alongside her, whipping at her flanks.
It burned, sure, but not nearly enough to stop her.
She summoned lightning up from her gut and let it out in a mighty arc, two of them fried. The other two dodged and weaved between the arcs and continued their assault as she ran.
Ireleth, Ireleth.
She ignored them and sprinted further through a unit of marauders that crunched under her claw-falls.
One of the Seekers got close and its horrid mount licked her.
And oh, ohhhh.
A warmth pools in her gut slow and wet and every thought is-
IRELETH. STORMCASTS. LIGHTNING. THE SERAPHON. THAT ONE SKINK WHO SHE HATED.
She leaned forward and kicked with both talons at one of the seekers, sending him into the ground with a thud, then decapitated the other with her tail.
She sprinted the last few meters and saw Ireleth, held aloft by the sword in her gut and silenced by the dagger in her throat.
In a flash of light, she returned to the forges.
The champion laughed and spoke.
Kraith grabbed him, and twisted her whole body as she launched him across the battlefield. His Corpse-to-be sailed through the air spinning.
She glanced around, the battle was nearing its end. A resolute stormcast victory.
One of her Draconith allies landed near her and helped her relocate her shoulder. After a blinding flash of pain she could move it again.
All that was left was the failure in her throat, and the unfading heat left between her legs.