Slashed by a manticore

I didn’t have any of my weapons ready; I hadn’t wanted to waste precious ammo on things I could kill with a buck or a stomp. The manticore certainly didn’t fall into that category, but I spun, throwing a kick with both hindhooves at its nose.

It was like bucking a brick wall. Instead of knocking the manticore back, I sent myself forward in a faceplant. The manticore lifted a paw full of large claws and swiped at my back. If it hadn’t been for Ditzy Doo’s armoring, the blow might have cut through my spine. Instead, pain spashed through my bruised back. I scrambled onto my hooves and ran.