Elizabeth
*Ramlei continues her watch of the intense battle.*
Judy
Blood. That intoxicating, metallic scent freshly drawn from his foe's chest permeated the beastkin's nostrils, distinct enough to recognize past the frigid numbness. It overwhelmed his senses, hungering serpentine eyes fixed upon the gushing wound on Irath's chest, urging him to tear the pale oni apart. The drumming in Ashnard's head returned, stronger than ever as if in sync with his foe's quickened heartbeat. And if he could make one of them stop, the other would as well.

The black beast spared neither thought nor motion to let his opponent recover from the fall. He pounced after the oni, pressing Irath under his weight. Spiked knee plates jabbed at the foe's gut while his blades pierced the inner elbows. Cold, sharp steel punctured flesh and bone with no remorse as the jackal's muzzle hanged low over his prey, rancorous growls resonating from the subtly unhinged jaw

Part of him wanted to let the oni go right there and let these wounds do the rest of the work. To make Irath bleed like he had bled and let him know what it was like to be helpless and left for dead. After all, the man probably deserved it, and it was a sight Ashnard would savor. But the oni was also a warrior, not much different from himself, and the lingering sense of honor the beast held unto compelled him to grant a quick death.

Sharp canines, harder than any steel glimmered beneath Ashnard's dark muzzle. With no free limbs for Irath to defend himself, the jackal plunged his maw down the exposed neck, beastly fangs piercing through thin flesh mercilessly. The dark beastkin tore through vitals with every bite, viciously pulling back with each one as virulent demon blood oozed from his muzzle. Not until the oni's carotid was torn to shreds and windpipe crushed beneath the pressure did he stop and got off him, his hunger finally sated. The jackal could feel his thoughts clear and the agonizing throbbing in his head cease, raising his head to search for anything of value from the Oni's corpse.
Scott
*( omg the poor guy )*
Sanjuana
**Irath's** Heartbeat is steady like a drummer, keeping rhythm, keeping beat. It is no more fancy that an acorn falling from a mighty oak. He felt **Ashnard's** Heart too, it was like that of rain against a rooftop, loud and never ending. But time had come for the beast's heart to cease it's beating. 

The flesh splits, mild crimson liquid pops from the barrier and seeps away from the wound in his chest, by the divine intervention of **Khorne**, the long, sharp tip had missed his heart. Thick beads crawling as brisk as they traveled etching red streaks that crisp with advancing time. The pain was cold and chilling, but it wasn't deep enough to be serious, Irath shrugged it off as naught but a reminder of his own mortality.

The beast's jagged knees gently pricked his pale hide, though not breaking the skin. It's arm blades rested against his thick, hardened bones that covered his elbows so it was rather pointless. As the beast fully opened it's savage maws, enough time had passed that he could once again **Exhale**. Without wasting but a moment, **Irath** Would one again exhale a icy mist, straight down the creature's gullet and trachea. This would ensure that both passage ways were encompassed with the piercing cold which would've shot straight down and into the beast. The **Frostbite** Would kill the outer tissue of his mouth and throat and would lead to them swelling shut as the dead tissue expanded. The cold would logically reach all the way to the jackal's lungs and stomach as it was so direct and he was most likely inhaling. If the rigor mortis of his lungs doesn't kill him (which i'm not sure how he'd survive having both lungs die), the sudden agonising pain would send him into **Shock** Or atleast **Stun** The beast.
Keith
*Ashnard, since he had spared absolutely no time in going for Irath's neck, would be able to bring his jaw down on the neck of the demon. His canines would tear through the hide, clamping in at a close around Irath's windpipe. When Ashnard finished his final strike, however, his victory would only be met with a full blast of frostbreath from Irath's dying breath. With no time to react, Ashnard would be hit fully in the face, causing both of his eyes to become blinded. The skin that was already affected earlier became even more damaged; some of the tissue underneath had died because of the recast, which would lead into permanent scars and the like on his face. It was also safe to assume that his right eye was put completely out of commision due to tanking two frost breaths at once. His nose would also become disabled due to the damage, but that would only seem to be a temporary injury that would wear off (Can't smell stuff for 4 quests). It was doubtful that a healer could do anything to alleviate this damage - scars and wounds such as this were out of their boundaries, after all.*

*Nevertheless, the jackal would have won.*