The sight of the single, massive black wing, so out of place yet so perfectly fitting on his back, stole the breath from Mother's lungs. The sharp horn protruding from his forehead pulsed with a dark light, mirroring the wicked, predatory gleam in his eyes. She knew, with a chilling certainty, that she had made a terrible, fatal mistake. This was no longer a battle; it was a slaughter, and she was the prey.
"I… I do not understand," she stammered, her voice a mere whisper, her hands trembling slightly. She was the ruler of this domain, the source of all its power, yet in this moment, she felt utterly, completely powerless. The fear was raw, visceral, something she had never experienced before… not from a human, at least.
