He hears her defeated cry as he tosses her casually back into a thick wall of ice. She tumbles and falls to her feet, bits of ice and snow twinkling down over her bloodied form. The death knight moves slowly, carefully— his footfalls are a death knell. He can hear her frenzied heart beating against her ribcage, he can smell her fear and desperation. The elf leans over, grabbing a fistful of her mohawk and tugging her upwards. She gurgles, eyes rolling before they settle on his face. He grins, lifting his runeblade—
She moves suddenly and before Tevruden knows it, he can feel something pierce through his armor. Slowly, he glances down to his chestplate and sure enough, there are fissures and cracks and— he grimaces slightly. “Light-blessed bullet, just fer joo. It ain’t gonna kill joo, but it gonna be a thorn in joor side,” Feiyn slurs. “Feiyn ain’t gonna let joo kill her without a reminder.”
Tevruden smiles and smashes her face into the ground. He can hear her heart slow, can tell by the way she’s gone limp that she’s out like a light. Not dead— he didn’t want her dead. Casually, he lifts her up and rests her on his shoulder before stalking back through the ramparts of the citadel, pleased with this one.
She would make a fine apprentice.