[Maybe gods can fight forever, until every mortal life is extinguished and only they remain, uselessly waging war for no one and nothing. But Hayame does not care if he tires of fighting in general. Perhaps she is selfish. She cares only in this moment if he tires of fighting with her.
Perhaps she is not wise, either. A god of war is coalescing a bow from the sand of his body and preparing to aim it at her, a mortal... and she does not retreat an inch. He is not in the mood? Did he think she was? Her lips pull back in a snarl of her own even as she reaches for the bow grip hanging on her waist belt, one of the few magical items she suffered to touch.]
You will regret fighting with me today, Set!
[A flick of her wrist and the bow grip extends into the sort of tremendous, six foot long bow that she was used to wielding, but before she can pull an arrow from her quiver he has fired.
Reacting in an instant she rears up with a kick of deadly forelegs, twisting in a whip of inky black mane and tail and seemingly attempting to dodge around the path of the arrow with a circular dance upon her hind legs. The arrow is lost in the burst of movement, there is a second where it isn't even clear if she'd been hit or avoided it when she returns to all fours, kicking earth into the air as she digs her hooves in-
And the arrow comes back into sight in her hand, flipped nimbly between her fingers and its trajectory reversed before she notches it on her own bow, pulls the string back...
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Perhaps she is not wise, either. A god of war is coalescing a bow from the sand of his body and preparing to aim it at her, a mortal... and she does not retreat an inch. He is not in the mood? Did he think she was? Her lips pull back in a snarl of her own even as she reaches for the bow grip hanging on her waist belt, one of the few magical items she suffered to touch.]
You will regret fighting with me today, Set!
[A flick of her wrist and the bow grip extends into the sort of tremendous, six foot long bow that she was used to wielding, but before she can pull an arrow from her quiver he has fired.
Reacting in an instant she rears up with a kick of deadly forelegs, twisting in a whip of inky black mane and tail and seemingly attempting to dodge around the path of the arrow with a circular dance upon her hind legs. The arrow is lost in the burst of movement, there is a second where it isn't even clear if she'd been hit or avoided it when she returns to all fours, kicking earth into the air as she digs her hooves in-
And the arrow comes back into sight in her hand, flipped nimbly between her fingers and its trajectory reversed before she notches it on her own bow, pulls the string back...
Then fires right back at him.]