The heat is obstreperous and eats at your strength. You were managing despite the Sun God's wrath but forcing your body to canter was taxing. Your dirty hide is damp with a layer of perspiration, fluid and dried clay mixing to form mud. On your burned left side, the sweat runs into your sores, salty water stinging and demanding to be noticed. If there was wind the sweat might offer some relief but the air is as stagnant as a river without current. But even against the heat, you must keep going. Your warrior's heart demands nothing less than victory.

As you slow to a trot blood drips from your horns. Something must have gone right. The bag hit its mark or the bitch was slowed too much by her limp. Whatever the reason, for it's certainly not your speed, you've managed to succeed. However, rest is not in your future. Sounds of furious motion stir the winds behind you, threatening to wake the heavens.

You shit dick! Her voice grates against your ears but you offer only a grunt in response to her childish outburst. You want to say more, struggling to stay focused, as your drug deprived mind begins to wander. You physically shake off your desire to turn and berate the Blue for being an impassioned idiot. You respect her dedication- even her fighting skills are tolerable- but you can't get past her attack on your plants over a companion. Perhaps you're missing some irony, though. Isn't your drug fetish just as useless? Maybe you're not so different after all. Too bad you should have been paying attention to Ampere instead of letting your mind drift. You've wasted precious seconds. Ampere is upon you.

Used as a weapon against you, your drug bag slaps your ass, causing you mild panic. You buck out chaotically, instinctively reaching for whatever is behind you. Shame it's not the Blue. Your massive hooves hit air and leather, uselessly tossing your bag aside. You're left squinting in the sun and no better off for your wasted energy. You just ache. Your bucking aggravated your bruised left hip and if your left side was throbbing before, it's screaming now. Pain pulsates upwards, demanding attention. It's nothing compared to what will come.

From the corner of your eye you see it- a morphing ball of electricity that becomes a wolf and attacks you. Every nerve in your body screams 'run' but you're too large. No amount of coaxing can force your body into motion quickly enough. The beast crashes into your right side, silencing the pain on your left because the wolf commands your attention. Does it bite or electrocute? The end result is the same- unspeakable pain. The tender flesh of your groin and underbelly is left raw and charred, serous fluid and blood mixing together and oozing from open sores. Even your sheath is affected. You're lucky, perhaps to the Blue's vexation, that you don't fight with your dick hanging out. You'd have a rather personal wound to nurse if that was the case.

Your teeth grind against one another with ferocity, body shuddering as pain washes through you and the fire that fuels your rage is lit anew. Every desire you have to smash Ampere to pieces is redoubled but she runs off and you know you cannot keep up with her- even with her serious limp. You resolve to be smart, not reactive. Squinting against the sun, your brown eyes search for something to help you. If you weren't dealing with the beating pain you might have smirked as your eyes find their target.

“Hey bitch face!” You bellow through gritted teeth, pain evident in your voice as you try to catch Ampere's attention. An obvious limp on your right hind limb slows you as you move, every step causing another wave of pain. You fight against it and make towards the orb. As you draw near, you act as though to nose the thing away, actually having no intention of doing so. It's a ruse. You cannot chase Ampere down but perhaps she will come to you. You brace yourself, trying to keep an eye on her but the glare of the sun makes it difficult. Still, you think you detect motion and you don't have time to find out for sure. You rear.

If it is Ampere then you will try to use your height to reach over (what you assume will be) flailing wings and beat upon her back and vertebrae. Over and over you lash out, hatred fueling your vindictive attack. You flail until your limbs cannot support you, your electric burns begging for reprieve, and you fall back to the earth, hoping that you managed to hit the girl. You can't afford to waste energy.

Post| 3/4
WC| 800