[ Though the spear did not strike true, it did strike and stick, earning a notch of pride for the Valkyrie. But Gwendolyn isn't given time to savour that fact.
The hail is awful. Even with the blessings of ice to counter Kyurem, the god's raging ice storm still slams into the airborne Valkyrie, and between that and the pain from her broken arm drive her low, lower down out of the sky. Not into the path of the rolling dragon, though that is surely a matter of good fortune on that account -- especially as the rush of air from that action sends her careering towards the ground instead!
It's merely through sheer willpower alone that she doesn't slam into the cobblestones. But the landing is anything but graceful, a stagger that ends in a near-trip, before she drops with a clank of armor to her knees in the slush and the mud and the dust and dirt and hail. In her present state, she can hardly swoop in to save someone else, and both her pokémon companions are now well away from the fight. As it should be.
But she will not be brought low, not now, and not here. Not by the likes of this dragon. Slowly pushing herself to her feet, Gwendolyn staggers away from the alleyways and out into the open stretch of ground created by the dragon's rampage. Extends one hand forward as she grits her teeth, and focuses, calling on the Wind's blessing, calling on the great Tree's air, and directing it in a furious Gust. And not just air. The wind swirls in response to her anger, picking up falling ice as it goes to hurl it back at Kyurem, until Gwendolyn is casting not just furious air but drawing with it dust and dirt and debris, all to pelt the Dragon with in what is as close to a Sand Attack a human can manage from the ruins of the city around her. ]
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The hail is awful. Even with the blessings of ice to counter Kyurem, the god's raging ice storm still slams into the airborne Valkyrie, and between that and the pain from her broken arm drive her low, lower down out of the sky. Not into the path of the rolling dragon, though that is surely a matter of good fortune on that account -- especially as the rush of air from that action sends her careering towards the ground instead!
It's merely through sheer willpower alone that she doesn't slam into the cobblestones. But the landing is anything but graceful, a stagger that ends in a near-trip, before she drops with a clank of armor to her knees in the slush and the mud and the dust and dirt and hail. In her present state, she can hardly swoop in to save someone else, and both her pokémon companions are now well away from the fight. As it should be.
But she will not be brought low, not now, and not here. Not by the likes of this dragon. Slowly pushing herself to her feet, Gwendolyn staggers away from the alleyways and out into the open stretch of ground created by the dragon's rampage. Extends one hand forward as she grits her teeth, and focuses, calling on the Wind's blessing, calling on the great Tree's air, and directing it in a furious Gust. And not just air. The wind swirls in response to her anger, picking up falling ice as it goes to hurl it back at Kyurem, until Gwendolyn is casting not just furious air but drawing with it dust and dirt and debris, all to pelt the Dragon with in what is as close to a Sand Attack a human can manage from the ruins of the city around her. ]