[The howling scream that follows slices through the air like a knife, ear-splitting; Mystra recoils and wrenches herself away from him, staggering backwards. All of that elegance of hers vanishes in a moment; she snarls, the sound more animal than anything even resembling human, and she clutches the side of her face to cover some of the marks that have been seared into her flesh, though it's nowhere near enough. The smell of burnt flesh hangs in the air, and she lets out a low hiss before collecting herself, drawing back to her full height and squaring her shoulders despite her injuries.]
"You impudent wretch. Not even going to try to control your cow, Gale? Perhaps I should silence his voice permanently—"
[She raises a hand with nails catching the gleam of the fluorescent light above, and there is no mistaking the crackle of magic that moves through the air, a promise that she will do far worse than simply sink her claws into him— but too quickly for the human eye, she is intercepted.
Gale stands between them, his back against Godfrey's chest despite the fact that the hunter had attacked him mere moments before, and he raises both hands with his wrists crossed, arcane fire bursting into being before his palm and aimed directly at Mystra, challenging her.]
You will not touch him.
[His voice is firm and unwavering, his gaze molten steel as he stares her down.
She stares at the both of them before letting out a peal of cold, mirthless laughter, tossing her head back as it builds.]
"At least now you're being honest about choosing him over me."
no subject
"You impudent wretch. Not even going to try to control your cow, Gale? Perhaps I should silence his voice permanently—"
[She raises a hand with nails catching the gleam of the fluorescent light above, and there is no mistaking the crackle of magic that moves through the air, a promise that she will do far worse than simply sink her claws into him— but too quickly for the human eye, she is intercepted.
Gale stands between them, his back against Godfrey's chest despite the fact that the hunter had attacked him mere moments before, and he raises both hands with his wrists crossed, arcane fire bursting into being before his palm and aimed directly at Mystra, challenging her.]
You will not touch him.
[His voice is firm and unwavering, his gaze molten steel as he stares her down.
She stares at the both of them before letting out a peal of cold, mirthless laughter, tossing her head back as it builds.]
"At least now you're being honest about choosing him over me."