unicorn crash

And I realized that the problem with having all that power to work with was that the enemy got to work with it, too.
The ground ahead of us suddenly darkened. The unicorn tried to twist and evade it, but Corb had timed it perfectly and the creature was moving too fast.
I poured my will into my beleaguered shield bracelet, bringing it up in a tight sphere around Butters and me.
The unicorn hit the patch of darkened earth and plunged into it as if it were liquid. Salty brine had mixed with the earth, rendering it into the next best thing to quicksand, arresting the unicorn’s momentum abruptly, and Butters and I flew over its head, hit the ground on the other side, and started rolling.
We were heading straight for Columbus, bouncing like a cannonball. If we hit that concrete wall along the upper level of the park, we’d be splattered against the inside of my own shield, so I started layering its interior with kinetic force and letting the outer layers be ripped off by our impacts with the ground, slowing us and shedding our energy in the form of heat. We left a trail of bouncing ball prints in scorched earth and concrete, and by the time we hit the wall, we’d shed enough momentum that it didn’t feel much worse than a moderate traffic collision—which is to say it was loud and terrifying and painful, but we survived.

Battle Ground Chapter 29, Page 277-278