Ilelan took up her own battle stance, everything seeming to unfold in slow motion, with more than any half-blood could manage. Her wings fell low, bringing the razor sharp spikes at the wing joints to bear, and she cocked her triple spiked tail. She stood in such a way that would allow her to attack laft, right and center, all at once.
"I am not afraid of you, dragon. This blade can cut dragon scales!" the half-breed shouted.
You idiot, she hissed in her mind.
"You obviously haven't ever fought a Phase," she sneered. "Perhaps when you live five thousand years, you might understand. But, wait, I almost forgot...you'll never live that long."
Ilelan readied her white scales for attack, locking them down into an impenetrable armor that no blade, no matter how strong or blest, could cut. The Phases didn't use their own shed scales as currency if they hadn't had use to other softer bodied species...mainly plate armor or shields. It was how the Phases kept on the good side of humans.
As opposed to attacking willy nilly like this fool, waving his silly sword like he knew what he was doing. One wrong move and she would ignore the sword and completely rip the arm off. She could do it too. She's been known to render whole bulls into two pieces with one vicious wrench of her head.
But the stranger and newcomer didn't know that. He also didn't know that he was scared, which is why he was blustering so much about not being so. Ilelan never stated being afraid, because she didn't know the meaning of the word.
The best tactic she supposed in her heightened awareness would be to knock the sword free and away; it was an annoying object that would only get in the way. Next would be to rip his wings to shreds, or perhaps slam the tail barb into his back to cripple him. His own scales would never be able to withstand the force of that blow.
She arched her back high, her entire spine bristling with quills and spikes and making an impenetrable forest of armor that would serve only to trap weapons. Her vision spread out, everything slowed way down, as her senses and reflexes took on something like spider sense.
"Your move," she rumbled.
But about that time Jadrian jumped up and shouted at them, knocking aside Areons sword and trying to cast a spell on them.
Ilelan only spun and snapped her jaws so close to his head that he would have felt the breeze.
"Back off, pest!" she hissed. "This is not your fight."
(OOC: You're free to attack her, but I warn you: she will not stop fighting until either A) she's killed or B) she's the victor.)
_________________ Fear sam bith a loisgeas a mhà s, ‘s e fhèin a dh’fheumas suidhe air. Far an taine ‘n abhainn, ‘s ann as mò a fuaim. Is ladarna gach cù air a shitig fhèin.
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