The ursa didn’t notice as Spike moved closer, smoke billowing from his glowing mouth. He crept forwards, his belly kept as close as he could to the rocky floor. His tail flicked slowly, steadying himself. He kept his eyes focused on the ursa’s thrashing body, careful not to let it see him.
Spike slunk around the edge of the cave, careful not to disturb anything that might alert the beast. When he got to Trixie’s side he nudged her ever so gently, cringing when she didn’t respond. But then she reacted ever so slightly by flicking an ear.
“You survived… the fall…” Trixie whispered out loud, but Spike could barely hear it over the sound of the beast’s shuffling and grumbling.
“I bounced,” he said with a shrug. “Was that you?”
Trixie rolled over to face him slowly. She winced as she did so. “Yeah,” she breathed, her face drawn tight in a pained frown. “I could only… do it once…”
Spike held up a claw and shook it. “Don’t worry ‘bout it,” he murmured. He forced a smile. “I’m in one piece.”
Trixie grimaced. She tried to turn her head slightly downwards, but paused after only the slightest movement. “More than.... can be said for… me…” she said, shuddering slightly. In the dim light from Spike’s charged up flames, her face visibly paled.
“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” he whispered. “I got this.” He stood taller and, standing on three claws, flexed one of his fore muscles. He gave it a small kiss, then sent a wink her way. “Spike’s on the job.”
Trixie had just enough strength to grimace. “Am I supposed to… be happy now?” She took a deep breath and shuddered again. “I just… saved you.”
Spike opened his mouth to reply, but the ursa stiffened then. It had stopped thrashing and had spun back around to face the pair, its eyes narrowed as it sniffed dangerously. Then, after a momentary stare-off when its eyes met Spike’s, it raised a paw and swung it in a massive, perfect arc.
Spike snarled and leapt to the side, the claw slashing one of his tiny spines clean off.. His own claws instantly flew up to assess the damage; he couldn’t help but whimper and gasp when he felt the horrid warmth of blood coat his hand. But there was no time to tend to his wounds, for the ursa had recovered enough to strike again. Spike, however, wasn’t in the firing line this time.
“Trixie, look out!” he cried, pouncing towards her as if he could shield her from the blow.
But he was too slow, and she could only watch as that deadly claw drew closer. Her only attempt to escape was to duck her head slightly down—but to no avail. The claw slashed directly through the centre of her horn in a flash of blinding light accompanied by Trixie’s deafening screams. And, when everything dimmed enough to be visible once more, neither the ursa or Spike could move for a moment.
Trixie had quietened now, looking more shellshocked than pained. From her horn, massive sparks of magic spurted wildly in all directions—for she had no control at all. The horn was useless, shattered in half and splintered around the edges. A trickle of blood dribbled down the sides and into her eyes. But she hardly even blinked.
Spike growled, suddenly overcome with a raging fury the likes of which he wasn’t sure he had ever known before. With a roar he formed the largest spark in his throat that he could, then shot it directly towards the ursa’s ears. The beast recoiled immediately, but that had been exactly Spike’s plan; the fireball collided just inches from the ursa’s huge eyes, exploding in a puff of unbearably hot flames.
The ursa bellowed, recoiling into the wall, but Spike wasn’t done. With a growl he charged forwards, pouncing on the swishing tail and clinging on. With his claws as hooks he then climbed up to the beast’s back, shredding its skin as he went, until he was stood atop the charred flesh of its flank. He dug his claws in deeply as the beast began to strike at him, leaping in a circle in its attempt to dislodge the dragon riding atop its back.
Spike snarled and dug his fangs into the beast’s back, almost scratching against its spine, and charged up another blast of fire. Just as he was about to release it, though, the ursa put in a particularly nasty buck. He yelled as his claws were dislodged, leaving him joined to the beast by his mouth. He scrabbled to get some grip again, but the ursa’s movements were too frantic—and so he gave a throaty cry and released a third fireball directly atop the beast’s spine, sending himself flying again in the process.
Trixie didn’t cushion his fall with a trick, this time. He screamed as he stretched out his body desperately to touch his claws against the wall, looking for some traction. Mere metres above the ground, he finally got his wish; he dug all of his claws directly into the rock, grooves carved out from him momentum.
A massive boom sounded as the ursa fell to the ground, howling. It writhed in place, its body a mangled but bloodless mess. Still it snapped its teeth dutifully at Trixie’s hooves, though, and she squeaked quietly in fear.
Spike fell to the ground, laying uselessly on his stomach. Shouting in the momentary pauses between each of the ursa’s roars, he was only just able to yell, “I’m all out, Trixie! Finish this thing off!”
Trixie whimpered, her eyes staring directly into the ursa’s unseeing face. She then lowered her head shakily and released the few feeble drops of her magical power. But there was no way of channeling and controlling it now. The beam of white light shot directly in between where the ursa’s eyes would have been, and its body crumpled immediately.
And Trixie screamed.