Exploring the beginnings of another idea in this drabble. 😉
Her ribs ached. Blood trailed down her back. The claw wounds weren’t deep, but she had no time to attend to them.
She knelt on the chaise, held tight to the painting. The creature glared at her from the canvas, and though she had succeeded in imprisoning it so, still its glare seemed to make her wounds burn hotter.
She fisted the brush in her hand, gathered her magic and slashed at the painting. Crimson drops dotted the painting surface and pooled at the bottom of the canvas. Some seeped into the chaise. The smell of blood filled her nose.