Guinevere could hear two voices as she caught up to Gale, one belonging to the latter, the other presumably the foe who'd been senselessly killing the prey in her forest.
“This isn't your territory,” the poison type dragon was saying, his voice low but stern. “You have no right to hunt down all of the food here.”
“You call that tasteless garbage food?” the other–a scarlet wind dragoness–scoffed. “I've tried one of nearly everything in this place–foxes, rabbits, deer, you name it–and they were all so bland I couldn't even finish them.”
Guinevere stopped the glow of her iridescent wings and hid just out of sight. If Gale could convince her to leave, the fairy type wouldn't need to risk confrontation. If things escalated, though, hypnotism was a backup plan.
“If you don't like any of them, why bother to keep hunting here?” Gale pressed, obviously trying not to express how annoyed he was, although Guinevere's antennae picked up on it.
“Because I'm hungry!” the wyvern answered shamelessly.
If you were that hungry, you would finish your kills, Guinevere thought, consciously preventing her wings from glowing red.
“Don't wind types eat birds?” Gale continued. “What’s stopping you from hunting in the skies like the others?”
“What's stopping you from living in the desert?” the wind dragon retorted.
“Free will,” the poison type chuckled. “That said, since you're so dissatisfied with what the forest has to offer, you have the free will to move on from here.”
“Or I can stay for that little fairy dragoness instead.”
The black dragon’s smile fell. “What?”
“I thought she'd show herself if I messed her home up enough,” she admitted her true motivations. “Didn't think I'd come across a poison dragon, though.”
Gale eyed her warily. “What do you want with her?”
“I already told you: I'm hungry,” she laughed, and the bipedal dragon visibly tensed. “I had a taste of a fairy type up in the flower field by the Highlands, and nothing else compares to it.”
Guinevere sensed that her newfound ally felt disgusted by the scarlet wyvern’s revelation. The fairy type didn't want to hear anything further from her. She moved into the open, spread her wings, and allowed them to glow.
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Immediately her light attracted the foe, who rounded on the smaller female, but before anyone could make a move, Guinevere shifted the color of her wings in a deliberate pattern. The scarlet dragon’s crimson eyes were drawn to them, her striped wings that were folded up from the backs of her forelimbs now spreading slightly as her guard lowered, allowing Guinevere's empathic antennae access to her mind.
“All of the prey you've eaten these past two days has been delicious and filling,” she persuaded the intruder. “But birds tasted far better, and their distant scent is luring you back to the skies. You came to this forest to try new prey animals, and you've reached that goal. Everything went as you planned, so now it's time to leave.”
Gale glanced between them, fascinated. When the glow faded, the wyvern looked around with confusion, her deep red gaze finally settling on the sky as her nostrils flared. Unfortunately, Guinevere's nearer scent must have renewed the predator's desires.
“No… The only thing I smell is a tasty little runt with blue fur,” the larger dragoness laughed, completely disillusioned now. She instantly lunged at Guinevere with gaping jaws.
Gale intercepted, whipping his long tail to sting the attacker’s shoulder in one smooth motion; with the stinger hooked through her scales, he pulled back to swing her into a tree, then tore himself free. Purple venom oozed from the puncture. “Leave. Now,” he demanded.
“Or what?” she challenged him, catching her breath but recovering quickly.
“Or else you'll be too immobilized by venom to leave. You'd be paralyzed here in the open for the wildlife you haven't killed to finish you off.”
“I've fought poison types like you in the desert… Your venom takes ages to kick in, and that measly dosage isn't lethal. I'll kill you both before I even feel anything from it,” she snarled, rearing up to flap her wings just once, which created a forceful gust of wind against him.
Although he stood his ground, he was skidding backward. His eyes darted for a way out, then gained a glint as he turned his back to the air current and spread his wings, riding the wind instead of fighting it so that he was back in control. During the short time it took him to circle around and rejoin the fight, though, the scarlet dragoness had once again charged to bite the fairy type.
Guinevere had instinctively taken flight to dodge, when a sudden change of direction in the existing air caught her insect-like wings, propelling her toward the wind type before the former even realized what was happening. She closed her yellow eyes and braced herself as fangs pierced through her soft blue pelt.
They just as quickly released--dropping her--as the attacker opened her mouth to cry out from Gale’s second sting, this time to her throat. The wyvern retreated in pain, then snapped at the poison type, catching his tail in her teeth before he could withdraw.
Guinevere fell weakly to the ground. Her fur clumped as it became coated in red, and she lay there helplessly watching the two battle. Is this how I'm fated to die…? she wondered, the purple glow of her wings fading along with her consciousness. The last thing she saw was the scarlet dragoness suddenly staggering as the added venom took effect, and Gale seizing that moment to rush toward his ally. Everything went black.