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07-22-2013, 03:36 PM
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The pacing of the mare continued after her declaration for a spar. The setting made it much more difficult to pay attention, directly, towards any sudden sights with her heavy reliance on seeing anything up close. Her eyes rotated more than her head where there were times her eyes darted and the whites of her circular tools for vision shown. She questioned if it was the wisest choice on her part, but it was too late now. She was pathetically desperate to remove the cowardice lurking in her and determining her actions. A part of her, lodged deep into her veins, sought a chance to fight as her ancestors and former herd had done. The shadows kept a particular one melded, as noted, when one of her species had approached with words to be heeded. A guilty look passed through her eyes. Florabella’s eyes locked upon the newcomer, noting the differences, but gazing in awe at the beauty of the other mare. However, her instincts were literally shouting at her. Move! The moment was long and unnecessary as the mare charged fluidly, yet swiftly. The pinto’s ears flicked forward and towards the sound of branches, turning her head side-to-side to locate the origin of the sound. A surge of panic rose in her gut as her haunches bunched and she belatedly charged away- anywhere - to escape the pounding of hooves gradually growing louder and louder with a possibility it was directed towards her. The taller height made it much harder to maneuver as her body rotated to the left from where her nose poked the air with a quick snort before the move. She struggled with the wave of emotions and the heavy breathing echoing her uncertainty in a fight. She thought she was in a safe zone, but the way she found herself struggling to regain her footing after a blow near her foreleg sent her sideways and towards the ground with a sloppy squirm to get back to her feet. It wasn’t a steady position, once she recovered, but her swaying neck had her head close in contact with other objects surrounding her. The blow was enough create the ache she began to feel once her brain acknowledged the blow. The spar made her think on the timing, but her lack of knowledge on the subject caused an automatic assumption: quick counterattack. Nostrils flaring and ears pinned back with a slight twitch, she lifted a fetlock and the rest of her legs followed as she attempted to lash out in a hasty offense. She gritted her teeth as the pain flared and throbbed momentarily. Words: 437 Tag(s): @[Rasta] Attacks: [1/3] |
