[Vignette] - B'haal: Push and Pull
<< No more. >>
"I'm not listening to you." B'haal didn't look up from the packing slips he was sorting.
<< You have no choice. >> The subtle grinding of the dragon's mind had given way to the rushing sound of ichor as it pulsed and pounded through his veins. He stalked around the cottage, eyes tinged with scarlet.
"Oh, I do," is what the rider said, but he knew better. All he could do was tighten his grip on the mental chains that bound them. All he could do was hold his own.
<< You. You will not. You will NOT hold me back the next time. >>
"I didn't hold you back with Amekasith."
<< That is not what I mean - and you know it. >>
"No, I don't think I do." The stack of slips was filed. B'haal dusted his hands off.
Mephixath's rage was wordless and seething, a veritable bonfire filled with the gag-inducing smell of sulfur and char mixed with other, unspeakable things. B'haal fought the urge to gag and, instead, moved on to digging through his journals.
<< Do not hold me back next time, >> came the snarl of embers and bubbling ichor. << Or I may break those precious chains of yours. >>
"You can try," B'haal intoned with a nonchalance that he didn't quite feel. "But you haven't succeeded yet."
<< Yet. >> The withdrawal of the bronze's mind was sharp, punctuated by the slamming of a mental door. Only the chains could be felt, rattling around in the shared space of their minds - tugged by one; held by the other.
There would be no rest that night.