Genrit's first response is to tear at her jaws, ripping them off of his neck and clamping down onto hers. His rows of bladed teeth further shred her throat, ripping upwards to completely open the wounds. If she wasn't dead before, she's dead now. The pain of the acid is starting to mount and he drags himself off of the crushed dragon. His wings twitch and beat, trying to get airborne. He manages to gain some altitude but the aching sensation that now fills his body makes it difficult to maintain his height, causing him to crash into the trees before him, toppling them. He roars in pain and frustration as he limps his way towards the lake, his body thrashing as it forces down the trees that get in his way.

By the time he finally reaches the water, the acid has scarred his flesh. The scales will heal over it, but the wound will always be there. He practically throws himself into the water in an attempt to wash the acid off. He writhes and lets out a muffled roar underneath the once calm waters. His head rears out and breathes heavily, feeling the pain of the acid disappear, though the other sources of pain still remain. His warm blood bubbles away in the cool water from the gouging at his stomach. Genrit drags himself up the shore and rests with his upper half out of the water. His injured leg is relieved of his weight somewhat but he still winces with each movement. His head turns to look at the path of destruction he caused to get where he is. The crushed body of his enemy remains motionless. A snarl builds in his throat and he roars in its direction. Half as a show of victory, half as venting the agony he's undergoing. He can't help but think to himself about how he would have dealt with this before his body was degraded. She would have been nothing to him. But here he is, wounded and sitting in... Water.

His lip curls upwards in disgust and he curls his neck back to look at some of the damage caused by the acid. A devious weapon indeed. His head faces forwards once more and he rests it on the ground, letting out a pained whine. His breathing turns somewhat ragged as he lays still and regains himself. He at  least finds some form of entertainment in watching the smoke rise from the forest fire he has created. If not for the pain he would find this moment relaxing. Genrit stays like this for quite some time, shutting his eyes and trying his best to keep his body still.

When he finally opens his eyes once more he's met with the same scenery as before. With a groan he drags his lower half out of the water and begins to limp over to the corpse, the fallen trees cracking under his weight as he moves. When he reaches her he grabs her head and lifts it up slightly, holding onto her shredded neck with his other claw. He has to lay on his side as he does this, unable to support himself on his hind legs. He opens his mouth and clamps it down underneath her skull, shaking his head and growling as he rips apart the flesh beneath the scales. Genrit lets go to re-position, dealing further damage. He does this for a few minutes until he finally manages to succeed in tearing her head off. He drops it to the ground and rolls it over, looking at it front on. He snarls as he looks into her empty eyes. [color=6ecff6]"So sure of yourself."[/color] He leans in closer, his throat rumbling in contempt. [color=6ecff6]"You're dirt."
[/color]

He grabs the top of her head and extends his wings, launching himself off of the ground and taking her head with him. His flight is unsteady but he relies upon the warm updrafts of the area to help him glide and conserve energy. Whatever blood remains inside of her head now leaks out, dropping down to the earth below as he returns home. Once he finally arrives he lands awkwardly, needing to drop the head just before he does so to accommodate for his wounded leg. His breaths are unsteady as he picks up his trophy and crawls inside his cave. Once he descends he places the head near the center of the open area that he resides in. It's still filled with water, but this water he doesn't mind. He lowers his head into the completely pure liquid and drinks, the otherwise cold water turning warm as his snout touches it.

Having eaten, fought, and drank, he pulls his sore body to the open area and curls up. He tries his best to ignore the pain in his leg for now. His eyes lock onto the head of the other dragon and his gaze hardens. A puff of smoke slips between his lips as he settles down to rest. He grumbles to himself, in desperate need of a proper sleep. And he's finally tired enough to achieve such a thing.

[color=6ecff6]"That's one. Who knows how many more."[/color]