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10-04-2013, 08:26 AM
a r l o It was time to get down to business, for it seemed that we might have underestimated our victim a little. As our ivories sank deep into his well- muscled flank, he surprised us by kicking his hind pistons upwards, throwing our cranium and us backwards, so that our attempt to ram into his side completely failed and missed. And to insult to injury, he whipped his banner in our face so hard that it stung and caused our pitch black pools to water. Squinting it turned out, was not an advisory tactic for battle. A piercing scream emitted from our maw, in sheer frustration. We needed blood and we needed it Now. The bloodlust was surging through our system, pounding it way through our heart and vitals. It had reached such heights now that it was causing us to go slightly dizzy, and we had to take a few calming breaths before trying again. A victory in this battle would seriously help our cause. We would leave this skyrat beaten and battered in the rust covered grass, just in time for the other, to return and to break down as he saw just what his genetics were really capable of. With any luck, it would cause him to lose his mind completely, giving us total free range to do what we pleased. But, in order for our plan to work, we needed to regain some serious footing. In a bout of rage, we turned our head and bit through the ties of our cape and tossed it to the side, it was too much of a hindrance, and besides, he hadn’t been even remotely creeped out. In our distraction, we had allowed him to start his attempt to get off the ground, which made everything so much more complicated. We decided that attack was our best form of defence, and an attempt to pull him from the skies was the best way forward. As he began his trajectory upwards, we threw ourselves forward, fore pistons flying outwards in rage, in an attempt to kick his rear pistons from beneath him. “Aye, you might be airborne, dodo, but it doesn’t mean you’ll stay there…” As he rose, we shifted our carcass out from underneath him, in order to either move from his falling form, or his large wings beating in order to maintain flight. In retaliation, he dropped his pistons downwards in attempt to scrape at our spine. We span ourselves out the right, taking a slight scrape from his hooves, the burning sensation causing us to wince a little. As he rose back into skies, he chose to shake his rear end, mocking us. But the pause gave us an opportunity. We brought ourselves up onto our rear pistons, fore pistons again striking outwards, hoping either for his flanks or hind legs, to topple him from the air. “If you’re asking if your bum looks big, then the answer is yes, bird brain!” We screeched, pistons flailing, awaiting his fall back down to earth. [[505 words. 2/3+ 0/1 final defence. Arlo is stung in the face by Azzarons tail, causing his eyes to water and him to lose focus. In a rage, he rips his cape off. He launches himself forward as Azzaron attempts to leave the ground, fore legs kicking out in attempt to take Azzarons back legs out. He takes a slight scrape across his spine from Azarons legs, and then rears, kicking out again with his fore legs to try and take Azzaron out of the air. ]] Fugue 505 words. @[Azzaron] woah, this sucked oO &CROWS WILL FLEE THE SCENE, AS IF TO REMIND ME HOW LONG ITS BEEN SINCE I'VE SEEN A DOVE. |
