Vesper watches each arrow the way some men watch the fall of dice—tracking distance, speed, and the thin thread of time between the draw of her bow and the strike. The larger unicorn’s slowing collapse is measured without satisfaction; his gaze is already on the smaller one, watching the tilt of its horn and the hard line of its charge as it fixes on him.
He shifts his weight, trotting across the slope in order to keep it away from Colt, then drops low, muscles coiled as though for a straight lunge. The corrupted thing lowers its head, no doubt picturing the impact, but Vesper’s mind is already three moves ahead.
When it closes the gap, shadow floods his frame, folding the jaguar back into the man. The space he leaves behind snaps shut in an instant—mist blooming cold and sudden—before he’s behind it, shifting mid-stride. The jaguar slams back into being, claws spread wide as he launches for its haunches, aiming to take the beast high enough to clear the kick he knows is coming.
He shifts his weight, trotting across the slope in order to keep it away from Colt, then drops low, muscles coiled as though for a straight lunge. The corrupted thing lowers its head, no doubt picturing the impact, but Vesper’s mind is already three moves ahead.
When it closes the gap, shadow floods his frame, folding the jaguar back into the man. The space he leaves behind snaps shut in an instant—mist blooming cold and sudden—before he’s behind it, shifting mid-stride. The jaguar slams back into being, claws spread wide as he launches for its haunches, aiming to take the beast high enough to clear the kick he knows is coming.
all these little things together don't build up to somethin' small
