[IC, friendly spar for experience. Ink will be auto defaulting to Rishima. 2 posts, no magic or companions. Inland borders of the World's Edge, mid afternoon on a calm Birdsong day and the mist has burned off here.]

I exhale slowly.

My gut is in a roil as I finally come to face what I've been yearning for so long. I wonder now if I would have just preferred it be that, a dream and little more. It made me feel more confident and responsible in the least, saying how much I wanted to get practice, how I wanted to learn to defend myself. Yet now, black eyes staring down my long muzzle at the moon mare, I feel sick. I've known plenty of mental pains and emotional scars, but I have been sly enough, or perhaps just pathetic enough, to escape an array of physical ones. Bruises sound like a foreign fruit to me and lacerations a name for a far-away place.

I blink, collecting my nerves, and assess my opponent. Rishima had been the first I met and befriended of the Qian, and though we are herd mates I wonder if we could be called more than that. I know little of the mysterious mare compared to others since, but her face is a familiar one I yet cling to, my childhood shining through in my weaker moments. Though he title boasts nothing of a warrior's namesake, she is an ideal candidate for me to test myself. She stands even with me in height, though I am of thinner build, but even so I suspect she is stronger than me, but I wonder if she is faster. I doubt it will much matter with how matched we are, but I have the need to grip some modicum of advantage lest I despair and turn into a rabbit ducking for its burrow. In the very least I trust her to be gentle and guiding, though I wonder the same of her griffin. I toss the pale animal a wary eye, focusing especially on the talons she possesses.

I think I'm already sweating.

We have agreed not to use additions, just the skill sets of our physical and barren bodies. That is complicated and painful enough for me. I do hope she'll shout out tidbits of advice as we go, for I've no way to ask but no clue of what to accomplish. Even now, ears flicking with my nerves, I realize I should probably start. I know if I don't I'm liable to turn tail and flee the moment she charges me.

I duck my head, teeth pressing together in a tight line that makes my jaws ache. Without any matter of tact my hooves leave the firm grass of the World's Edge. The birdsong blades are vigorous and spring easily back into shape in the absence of my weight, no worse for the wear. The heat of the midday sun above promises that I will certainly be in a lather when this is through, but it also has cleared the mists for us and dried the dew from the turf, which would otherwise prove slick. I know not to be grateful for these things yet, too intent am I on closing the distance between the moon advocate and I. Each stride shudders up my body and my heart has managed to lodge itself in my ears, pounding against my skull like a tiny madman trying to reason with me and urge me to abandon this fool's course.

I nearly slip as it is in my awkward haste to assault my friend. I try my hoof at feinting, I am after all of a more devious nature, but it's a botch job on the battlefield. I try to angle to my right, her left, as I come headlong, head stretched out to snap. At the last moment I change my course, throwing myself around like a sack of dragon eggs to bring my rump to her. I crow hop, all four feet leaving the ground (barely), but I seem to forget the part about kicking my heels out. I'm not sure I've actually ever done a buck before, aside from my earliest seasons when the world was more ripe and sweet. Perhaps though my great curtain of a tail will flop in her face.

As I land I stagger to catch myself, dizzy with the abrupt turn and momentum. I am liable to bump into Rishima if she stands still, but if any harm comes of it then she is no more than a glass figure. I give myself pause, twisting my head around to inspect the repercussions of my actions. There's a certain hopeful glee in my expression as I crane my neck to look. I'm not even sure what I'm expecting. There'd be no blood draw and a bruise wouldn't rise until later, and she certainly wouldn't be knocked to the ground. Yet look I do, oblivious to the massive target I've made myself.

[1/2 attack, 0/1 defense]