Her head snapped to one side after the backhoof from Eris hit its mark. The beautiful bead strand she wore hummed and one...then two...three, four, five, six beads shattered, depleted from trying to maintain her balance. She saw the chair hit Nightfall and tasted blood in her mouth....seven, eight, nine...the popped like light bulbs. Her horn glowed a darker black color and little snowflakes started radiating from it. Ponies would swear the temp noticably dropped. She looked at Eris with seething hatred and spoke a single word with a delightful smirk...."Burn..."
Her frost spell nailed its mark, freezing and shattering any garmet he may have been wearing, leaving frost burn where the clothing once was.
Obsidian Winter, at least for that moment, wasn't herself. She was dark, cruel and unfeeling. Any pain she might have caused....she liked.