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10-31-2012, 08:12 AM
"Shiiiit. Fuck, fuck!"
Curses and other colourful language gurgles from the belle's mouth, words that she had picked up from her father mostly, words that she probably shouldn't know or use, but she knew and used them anyway. Scrambling once more, she momentarily forgot about the spear and focussed upon the badger, whom she had clearly pissed off. It was going for her legs, which was a good and a bad thing. The bad being, it was going for her legs, to try and injure her. The good being that it placed itself in a very vulnerable position, for it gave her far better aim. Instincts screamed at the filly to kick with both her legs, to strike and otherwise pommel this creature that tried to draw her blood. She aimed as best she could for the skull of the badger, knowing that a hard bony plate protected the spine and other sensitive areas of the striped herbivore. Stinging upon her heels told of an injury sustained by herself, but still she fought it, landing from her kick to pivot and strike at it with her forelegs, wings stirring up more sand in attempts to disorient it.
please do not feel pressured into mirroring the length of any of my posts
I write what I feel at the time
and hope everyone else does the same c:
