It's All About Control - witheyesofgold & amonsterofnightmare
Hearing about a mystical beast attacking citizens late at night that lived in the bordering villages of Camelot was enough to spring Merlin into action. Leap first, think later - it seemed logical enough to scope out the monster before he figured out how to kill it and put an end to the people’s suffering. Merlin couldn’t exactly face the kingdom after his failure to protect Arthur, but he wasn’t about to abandon it fully. He knew Gwen had faith in him - he knew that she figured out his true nature on her own. This was acceptable and some deep corner of Merlin’s mind felt a sense of joy in her acceptance of him (despite his greatest disappointment of never returning to Camelot, let alone returning with Arthur in pristine health). Another part of him was resigning himself to a duty he no longer felt any sort of vigor towards. Camelot no longer felt like home, but he’d be damned if he lost it too. So he took to patrolling, a distant job that even the knights of Camelot left him to his form of coping. Merlin never spoke to any of them ever since that day. The only one to try had been Percival; only to inform him that Gwaine died admirably, apology ridden in his eyes. Perhaps that was what made Merlin never cross the drawbridge ever again.
But enough was enough. If this winged cat was going to purge Camelot of everything that remained, Merlin would do something about it. Arthur would have by now, too, so it felt right to have a sword at his side, sharp eyes ready to flare gold at the first sign of danger. He stalked through the woods like he was the predator and this creature was the prey. Considering the amount of power Merlin now had a harness of (and a growing understanding, too) that very well could be the truth. A crunch drew his attention, and blue eyes flushed gold in a quick use of higher vision to see through the darkness that would cloud a normal man’s ability of sight easily. Trees, bushes, arrangements of plants that kept the ground soft and simple to sink into became transparent, only revealing the lingering blob of a—
Merlin flung himself out of the way as the creature made its lunge, drawing his sword in the same steps in case this creature required a mortal weapon enhanced by a spell - like a griffin. But he tried magic first while the beast was still recovering from its first leap, all for good measure. In a furious pulse of gold, Merlin sent a force strong enough to lift the creature from its feet and throw it across the air, back down and into the forest floor without mercy. Like a rag doll. Impact with the ground would work well as a stunning move; it’d give Merlin enough time to go for the kill.
The Bastet let out a roar that was cut short as it slammed into the ground, the wind knocked out of her. This wasn't what she had been expecting, to say the least. A quick and clean kill and she would've been on her way, but now it seemed she'd have to fight for her life against a human that she could snap in half if she could just get close enough.
Her tail whipped back and forth and her wings snapped out to their full width in an attempt to keep him at bay long enough for her to regain her senses. She knew it was weak, but this was for survival. Her claws raked against the soft ground beneath her paws, digging in and helping her push herself up. She swiped out at him, trying to scare him into retreating further as she snarled and hissed with ears pinned back.
Taking whatever chance she still had, wings already extended and ready to go, the Bastet shoved herself off the ground and into the air. Her wings were strong, which allowed her to distance herself from the warlock in 4 heavy wing beats She'd either need to figure out a better strategy than simply dive-bombing him or give up and head out to look for easier prey. But the need to kill was enough to drive her mad, she craved it like nothing else. She couldn't back down this easily, not when she had the skies to use to her advantage.
She circled high above him, twisting and turning this way and that as she attempted to find an opening that would ensure her victory, that would give her the satisfaction she so desperately desired. The Bastet knew she'd smelled something in the air the closer she'd gotten to the boy, but she hadn't taken the time to distinguish what exactly it had been. Although it was doubtful that she would have been deterred from pouncing on him either way--the insatiable urge for the human's death had overruled the beast's logic for that small frame of time, and it might turn out to be her downfall if she continued to be so careless.
