Clay didn't mean for it to happen. He didn't even know how it happened. Just a minute ago, he was on top of Fjord, pinning him to the ground, then all of a sudden, Fjord was on top of him, tightening his grip around Clay's throat. It all happened so quickly, Clay was startled then out of nowhere, small, black blobs of liquid splattered over Fjord's face, eye and wing. The light, sky-blue Icewing blinked in confusion, wiping the inky, black blobs off his face. Suddenly, Fjord let out an ear-piercing cry, Clay covered his face and closed his eyes, preparing for Fjord to blast him with his frost breath.
Fjord stumbled back, still screaming, covering his face with his talons. His spiked tail thrashed furiously, like it had a mind of its own. Clay had to leap out of the way of Fjords body, crashing to the ground. Clay still had his hands covering his face, just daring to peek through his claws. Fjord had dark-blue patches of sizzling scales and flesh along his arm, wing and face, exactly where the liquid had hit, still bubbling. Clay thought he was going to be sick. The Icewing was dead, the crowd was laughing and Clay hadn't a clue where the venom came from. For all he knew is that he didn't have venom in his claws. He didn't want to harm Fjord, although he most certainly did.







