Guitar Strings and Flower Petals

Opposition

Bellatrix wandered the Bogs of Unfathomable Terror, her trusted lute clutched tightly to her heart. The stench of her surroundings were so immeasurably awful that the very concept of having the ability to smell disgusted her, and the thick sludge she walked through would stick to her clothes for an entire year. But if what she sought was still here, then it would all be worth it.

"The darkest holes hide the brightest treasures," she reminded herself. "Surely, she must still be here, she-"

A chill ran down her spine as a piercing wail stretched the entire Bogs length. An animalistic cry, one like a tormented goat and crab singing in harmony.

But faintly, underneath, another cry. A more familiar, friendly one, in familiar screams of violence.

"Blasted Gortle," she muttered. "What trouble have you gotten in today I wonder?"

With the swiftness of a thousand lightning bolts, Bellatrix ran through betwixt the trees and, darting left and right with the grace and precision of a trained dancer. Her heart thumped as she imagined what horrific beast Gortle would now be having the displeasuring of almost being eaten by today.

When she finally spotted the beast, she froze; it was a large, very large, indescribably large beast, with a tail equipped with an oversized stinger and a gaping maw of a thousand and one sharpened teeth (her keen eyes could count them all in fractions of seconds and her brain calculated the approximate number shortly after). It bore no eyes, but instead two empty, soulless holes, and the rest of its sickly green scaled body looked like a combination of a long-forgotten tree and a firebee's thorax. It was a monstrous creature, no doubt.

But what truly drew her in was the Witch, clinging onto a sword wedged deeply into the beast's gums.

She was a large woman, muscular and strong, with shaved hair and a fierce hunger for action in her bright gold eyes surrounded by well-earned battle scars. She wore true knights armour, bulky and silver, save for the helm. Primarily because, to quote her, 'It makes headbutts less personal.'

Beatrix groaned. "Gortle, yet again you find yourself in the midst of a harrowing and dangerous brawl with something bigger than yourself, and once again I must save you before it devours you, silver and all."

Gortle smirked. "Ah, Bellatrix. Not quite! Once again, in fact, you have come to watch me tear open a monstrous beast from the inside out, spilling its bright, wet, gooey innards across the bog floor!"

"Vividly grotesque imagery aside, I fail to see how you can achieve such a goal out in here."

"Like THIS!" And with that, Gortle threw herself into the beast's maw, laughing like the mad woman she was born to be.

Bellatrix sighed. "As always, Gortles thinks only of the stomach." As she spoke, she spun a bright red circle in the air, and from it fell her Grand Pick of Destiny(!). As was custom, she placed it to her lips before strumming it against her lute, sending out vibrations towards the beast. At the sensation, the monster started to shake, violently convulsing and screeching like an angry cat. Bellatrix rushed behind a nearby tree, barely missing the engulfing explosion of green and yellow guts.

Then, when all the parts and juices landed, the most bewitching Bard on the Isles slowly turned to spot Gortle, in the middle of the remains, groaning as she picked herself up, covered in both general filthy bog water and the creature's innards.

"My oh my, you really had them on the ropes." Bellatrix smirked as she walked out, leaning down to raise a hand to the fallen soldier.

"Shows what you know," Gortle huffed. "Another minute and I would have wretched it apart."