[Cursed Crone] The Final Showdown

Arianwyn, was able to dodge the first meteor easily. It was rushing towards her, yes, but it was coming at just the right angle that, even had it hit, it would only have glanced off of her flank. All it took was a shifting of her body weight, a step to the side, and she was well clear of the path. As it zoomed past her, she could feel the breeze on her fur from the air pushed aside by the dense, orbiting metal. Her silver senses tingled with the sensation as well, noting the unnaturally fast rush of silver particles so close to her form. Unfortunately, her ankle also felt it as she twisted her foot unnaturally into a crater left behind in the dirt from a previous asteroid. Shit!

Through some miracle, she maintained her balance, but she was decidedly injured after that. Knowing she could not stop to inspect the sore joint, Arianwyn stepped away from the pock mark in the earth, almost faltering under her own body weight. This could not be happening. Not now, not when she was in so much danger! Not when she saw the bony beak of the Crone opening above her, poised as though it might snatch her from the earth below, or stab her into the mud. She had to move. Ankle be damned, she needed to keep going or she was going to end up a whole lot worse off than a twisted hoof.

Snarling in range, Arianwyn hurled two more daggers at the accursed beast, tossing them with a deadly spin and using the momentum and her magic to sharpen the blade. They were aimed at the deep, inky voids where the Crone's eyes should have sat—though Arianwyn knew not where the bird-beast's weak points might reside, the empty eye sockets seemed as good a choice as any. At the last second, when she was sure the blades would hit, a shadowy tendril moved to swat them away.

However, instead of the tentacle knocking both daggers from the air, the sharpened metal instead fought back, and sliced through the strange appendage, cutting off its end. They were knocked off course enough that they missed the eye socket, instead thudding into the bony skull, but they had done their damage: Arianwyn watched with no small satisfaction as the Crone shrieked in pain and frenzy, the proximal stub of the missing tentacle flailing wildly. The scream as enough to make Arianwyn wish she had packed earplugs, but it didn't matter: the damage was done. The distal tentacle dissolved into shadow before it reached the earth—a pity, or else Arianwyn might have kept it as a horrific trophy, but instead she would have to share this victory in bragging rights alone. Her first hunt, and she had injured the beast.

She could not pause to gloat for long, or else her victory would end up short-lived at best. She quickly danced away from another meteor; the pain of her ankle dulled for a moment in her triumph. However, this dodge was a lot closer, the meteor just skimming her skin as it flew past her. Her guard had been let down; her focus broken for a moment. She needed to concentrate, or her next lapse in judgement would be fatal.