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Her hide was streaked with sweat and flecked rusty-red by flung, damp sand, and it rippled constantly, her nerves supercharged with an intoxicating brew of adrenaline and fatigue. She tried in earnest to keep her pale, cautious gaze trained to Midas’s moving black and white form, but while the atmosphere grew ever darker; rumbling and flashing with violent, unpredictable bursts, Africa struggled a little to maintain that vigilant concentration which the spar demanded. Certainly she was not prepared for the creativity of his next assault- never had the young mare considered the art of warfare to be anything so resourceful or inventive.
As long, trembling legs ploughed forward through the frothing, breaking waves along the beach; following obediently the stagnant fix of her eyes, the stallion turned suddenly towards her. She watched warily, ignorantly, as his wing dipped promptly during the turn, primary feathers slipping beneath the churning surface of the sea. Africa’s long coal-hued ears swivelled uncertainly through the heavy tangle of mane across her poll, coming to rest sharply backwards as she propped her weight heavily in the same direction, coming to an abrupt standstill across coiled hind-quarters. A rapid spray of bitterly cold surf and unsettled sand covered the distance between Midas’s golden tipped wing and her face in no time and as the dappled mare was sitting back, weight driving her down into the soaked sand, her face swung right and spontaneously- helplessly, away from the onslaught.
Gritty sand and stinging salt water clung heinously to long black lashes, burning her eyes when they opened again in a desperate attempt to maintain visual awareness. It was a terrible, abrasive feeling, and she blinked quickly; again and again through welling tears, trying to rid herself of the painful interruption. It was no easy task, and try as she might she could not find her opponent through filmy eyes, and distorted sight. He appeared only as a blur in the storm-dark evening, a mass of shadow looming close in front; lifting, towering- and Africa balked, throwing her blinded skull left and right in alarm.
His hooves thrashed and sprays of boosted beach-litter showered across the bewildered mare; feeding her distress. Africa’s wildly tossing face was clipped as it sailed beneath one brandished hoof- a result of her own foolishness and flailing, mindless reaction. As the sharp impact slipped clear from the bony ridge of her nose (leaving in its wake a slither of peeled skin and pluming pain beneath, some sense- perhaps instinct, returned to her and her waving neck stilled immediately. It was of little benefit; too little too soon, and her eyes cleared enough in time to watch the arriving snap of teeth close in. Quickly she ducked, hoping to fall from the reach of his uplifted being, but as the response to his attack was so greatly delayed and the fresh ache in her head so dense, Africa did not move nearly fast enough. Midas’s teeth grasped tightly and securely the turning ear above, and pulled at it unkindly. The grey’s head jerked sidewards as pain seared through her skull and the ear pulled clear, tearing ever so slightly along its delicate, thin rim.
Restored sight provided her with enough confidence and clarity in the next moment, to drive forward beneath him with her neck dipped low because he was not as tall as she- perhaps an imprudent decision, but the flex of his burdened hind-limbs and the upward stretch of his barrel seemed to present an opportunity to great to ignore. Without hesitation clenched haunches propelled her forwards, and extended forelegs- reaching hooves, aimed themselves towards his weight-burdened legs. As she sailed forwards, Africa lifted her maw, lips peeled and teeth snapping harshly towards his flanks or any other part of his exposed undercarriage that they could find.
Words: 634
Attack: (3,3)
Defense: (0,1)
HP: 23
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![[Image: 515b833f251f3]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/515b833f251f3)
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[JUDGED] Storms gathering (Africa//Spar)
