FFxivWrite 2019 Prompt 20: Biscet
A wad of saliva and blood, mostly the latter, launches from the Roe’s mouth as she starts to pick herself up from the damp mound of earth she was lucky enough to get launched into and not the rock a few fulms behind. The worst of the blow had been eaten up by the aetherical barrier she was wrapped in, but there was still plenty of protest from her limbs as she made her way back up to her feet and turn back to the shuffling oaken form closing in on her. Enough of her wits had settled back in from the sudden, unwanted bout of narcolepsy thrust on her by the creature’s last, well, second to last attack that’d left her open to getting launched. This time as the flow of aether around the tree-like beast shifted she knew what she was watching for.
Much of the treant’s ambient energy resided in it’s canopy of branches and leaves above it, not the face-like core, and as it prepared to pluck another swelling acorn she could watch it all flow into the seed to prepare it for it’s projectile task. It was almost as if the whole system was a funnel that moved to where it was needed just at the time. As the oaken hand plucked it’s next weapon a smile took the sea wolf’s lips. She knew how the beast was playing it’s trick, and that secret was now her own.
The giant’s weight shifts as her feet move into a better position under her, wanting to give off the appearance she was planning to try and block the next acorn like she had the first. As the beast flung it’s sleepy bomb though, she used that footing to launch herself to the side, rebounding off the broad trunk of a less animated tree of the Shroud to keep her footing. From there she pulls in the aether that made up her shield, gathering the stretched out hidden wall and twisting the energy into a conjured seed of her own before flinging it forcefully out at the shambling wooden beast. As it collides the magic within burst into a cloud around the treant before it slumps backwards, ‘eyes’ lightness and gaping maw left open and exposed.
The roe drug her sore form over to the slumbering beast, muttering a few curses along the way before focusing down on pulling on the ambient aether once more. The orb formed in her hand this time was of a far less wooden design, and she lobs it directly into that yawning void in the tree’s core. Only but a moment after there’s a flash of light and a rush of heat as the top and bottom halves of the oaken beast are sent flying in opposite directions, the sides that used to be the ‘inner’ portion smoldering.
