we ter-might have a problem, here // woodsmen vs mutts

When the spider snaps at her arm, she's finished. Not in the bad way — she's far from dead — but she's furious. Her features twist slightly, jumping from emotionless to sad to angry in a span of mere seconds. It's hard not to show everything when her mask falls, but she manages to keep it down to one.

Rage.

"I'm going to end you." She says it so matter-of-factly, cutting her eyes at the creature and its partner. "You, too." She had managed to jerk her arm away quickly enough to avoid major damage, but the skin is still broken. There's blood pooling in her palms.

She still opens her bag, not caring about stains or other frivolous things — she removes the crossbow she took from Ikaros' corpse and plants her feet firmly on the ground. She has to remind herself not to shudder, to not think of the ghosts around her. The one that was from home, and the one she killed.

"Back up, boys." She takes aim, closing one eye and preparing two bolts. She holds the crossbow like she knows what she's doing, but Lady Luck is the one guiding her hand.

"I'm done playing nice."

He'd had enough. His knee hurt. The light was invasive, made him squint, the gnats kept finding their way into his ears, the heat was stifling, and there were still two gigantic spiders who wanted nothing more than to eat them. And at the rate they were going, Silas was forced to face the reality that they might just get what they want if something didn't change.

He recognized that it was him who had to change. He had to be the same person he'd been before, the same person who saw this as a sport, a game. The person who was not just okay with killing, but the one who sought it out. It didn't matter if these creatures would disappear the moment this fight was over; they still had the ability to take his win and give it to someone else, and for some reason that ignited a fury within him, adrenaline picking up the slack of his failed knee and his sick stomach.

He screamed, loud, thunderous, and ran forward with his axe held over his head.

"FUCKING! DIE!"

He swung, true and angry and so full of the color red that it tinted his vision in its favor.

No sound came from it, Silas plunging his axe deep into its head, cutting and cutting and cutting until it was separated from the rest of its body. The spider crumbled, legs turning in like any other dead spider as it rolled over onto its back lifeless.

He grabbed the head by its pincers and tossed it at the remaining spider's feet, grinning, daring it, knowing that the thing could kill him just as quickly as he could kill it.

"All alone now aren't you, fucker?"

She props the crossbow on her shoulder with a pout, disappointed that her attack hadn't been enough to kill both of the beasts. "Well, that's a shame." They are still standing, still clicking their pincers and crawling forward on terrible legs — but then Beck moves forward, and Silas follows after him.

A head rolls into view, and it's horrifying.

The color of the blood is not a shade she can name.

"Fuck, Silas." It's rare to hear her curse, but it's the first thing that comes to her mind. Something rolls in her stomach, and she presses a hand to her mouth. Her words are muffled. "I can't handle this. I want it to stop." She drops her bow dramatically, picking up the sword she placed aside.

"Back up, Beck." She closes her eyes, ready to swing recklessly.

"I'm finishing this."

filler!