"Take its heart out before she ravages the village."
Natasha shouted at Wilmore, hardly holding herself in the strong wind, Eliot grabbed her arm hugged her, and quickly sped out of the storm.
The prince cursed; this female imp could simply dodge and represented supremacy. Wilmore hung on the chest of the mountain, but the storm was mighty enough to make him fly in the clouds as he hardly bounced.
The imp was angry, her male and children were slaughtered and she wouldn't leave before making sure to kill these people.
The prince made an ice bridge and seethed ahead, as fast as he could, and jumped on the imp, his large nails scratched the wing and she struggled, flying to the sharp rough rocks to smash Wilmore.
