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Description
The three-headed dragon rose from the ground to match Clere, its three heads roaring in unison to create an eerie cacophony as the sound from three sources interfered. The creature was roughly the same size as Clere, though less obese, and each individual head was smaller than Clere's. It attacked with a breath weapon, a bright yellow stream from each mouth. Due to the distances involved, it looked as though the attack moved slowly, matching the movements of the fighting giants. One way or another, it didn't matter as the attack deflected harmlessly off Clere's hide, like water off a roof. The creatures lunged at eachother, maws and claws grasping for a hold on their opponent's rounded shape, and massive obese bodies clashing, as duelling elephant seals. Both creatures regenerated wounds quickly, chunks of meat reaching the ground far below with no visible injury remaining high above. For a time, it seemed neither side had a clear advantage. While the colossi wrestled, it was the landscape that truly suffered; untold miles of hell upturned and crushed by the rolling bodies. Still, the new landscape much resembled the old.

This continued for a while. Perhaps it was a long time, perhaps time worked differently in hell, or perhaps Clere simply grew impatient and hungry quickly. There was one way in which the combatants were not evenly matched; Clere had a larger mouth, and the three-headed dragon was significantly less obese. When Clere bit into her opponent's tail, it didn't initially register as more than yet another minor attack; a wound that would heal quickly and could be ignored. But when she then bit again, a few hundred feet further up the tail, with the previous part still in her throat, the rules changed. Little more than ineffectual attacks were possible, except for the one being executed by Clere, and the other dragon found itself disappearing into Clere's expanding throat. Clere endured the claws and teeth; the pleasure of feeling herself being filled like never before overpowering the pain of rapidly healing pinpricks. When she had started swallowing her enemy, Clere was on her four feet. But by the time she was swallowing the bulk of her enemy's body, her own belly and throat were distending far enough that she could no longer stand, and was forced onto her side, letting her body bulge between her limbs. The three-headed creature's roaring became a panic, this was not a suitable fate for the lord of hell...

Description
The three-headed dragon rose from the ground to match Clere, its three heads roaring in unison to create an eerie cacophony as the sound from three sources interfered. The creature was roughly the same size as Clere, though less obese, and each individual head was smaller than Clere's. It attacked with a breath weapon, a bright yellow stream from each mouth. Due to the distances involved, it looked as though the attack moved slowly, matching the movements of the fighting giants. One way or another, it didn't matter as the attack deflected harmlessly off Clere's hide, like water off a roof. The creatures lunged at eachother, maws and claws grasping for a hold on their opponent's rounded shape, and massive obese bodies clashing, as duelling elephant seals. Both creatures regenerated wounds quickly, chunks of meat reaching the ground far below with no visible injury remaining high above. For a time, it seemed neither side had a clear advantage. While the colossi wrestled, it was the landscape that truly suffered; untold miles of hell upturned and crushed by the rolling bodies. Still, the new landscape much resembled the old.

This continued for a while. Perhaps it was a long time, perhaps time worked differently in hell, or perhaps Clere simply grew impatient and hungry quickly. There was one way in which the combatants were not evenly matched; Clere had a larger mouth, and the three-headed dragon was significantly less obese. When Clere bit into her opponent's tail, it didn't initially register as more than yet another minor attack; a wound that would heal quickly and could be ignored. But when she then bit again, a few hundred feet further up the tail, with the previous part still in her throat, the rules changed. Little more than ineffectual attacks were possible, except for the one being executed by Clere, and the other dragon found itself disappearing into Clere's expanding throat. Clere endured the claws and teeth; the pleasure of feeling herself being filled like never before overpowering the pain of rapidly healing pinpricks. When she had started swallowing her enemy, Clere was on her four feet. But by the time she was swallowing the bulk of her enemy's body, her own belly and throat were distending far enough that she could no longer stand, and was forced onto her side, letting her body bulge between her limbs. The three-headed creature's roaring became a panic, this was not a suitable fate for the lord of hell...