She saw his dog move into action, shooting towards her like a furry rocket. Terror gripped her; this was what she had feared ever since entering Helovia, the idea of tangling with a creature with fangs long enough to shred her throat into pieces. Oh, she was scared; her ears laced against her skull, eyes rolling until her pupils were replaced with the ghastly whites. As a result of her turn to face Archibald's backside, Loretta now came towards Nyx's left side, and her teeth ripped into the upper part of the soldier's left foreleg whilst her claws rasped against the lower region. The fangs caused deep wounds which bled profusely, whilst the blunt claws barely nicked the surface of her thick flesh. It hurt, and a deafening scream rang from between the mare's clenched jaws. She vaguely noticed the stallion move to turn, and she seized the opportunity to turn herself, hoping to use her superior agility to accomplish the movement before he did; she threw her weight to her hindquarters and spun on them, swinging to the left in the hope of facing Loretta head-on. The spray-soaked ground beneath her hooves aided this movement, allowing her to turn on a sixpence, something she had mastered over the years due to her average build. Even as she turned, she was rearing - not high, as she did not want to expose an inch of tender underbelly to the fanged monster, but high enough to ensure there was a considerable amount of force gathered in her body. She then brought her weight down, hoping to crush the dog beneath her front hooves whilst her still-tucked head jerked downwards, ebony sword hoping to sink into the dog's back. At the moment the dog was the predator, a threat that she needed to target and eliminate; pragmatic, matter-of-fact, like drawing up a battle plan. Her horn was her greatest asset, and she hoped to run the beast through with it.

Due to Nyx's movement, Archibald now faced her right side rather than her front, and his forehooves slipped beneath her and onto nothingness. His bite succeeded in snapping on her right ribcage, creating another small bruise; painful as this new wound was, it was nothing compared to the stacatto throb of her chest. She made no move to retaliate; she couldn't, so focused was she on attacking the dog. It was a formidable task to deal with two opponents, as she was forced to split her focus - at the moment, her attention was fully on the hound. Its master was strong, of that there was no doubt, but he had only blunt weapons and hooves at his disposal, not the savage arsenal that his dog possessed. The silver mare's natural instinct was to flee from anything with fangs, but she knew she couldn't, not without hiding her head in shame for evermore. She would not let Archibald see her weakness; no, she would prove her prowess, prove that magic, companion and sheer size could not always overwhelm the stubborn spirit of a soldier with a heart of steel. In everyday life she submitted to stallions readily, especially powerful ones, but the battlefield was her domain, and she was not easily bested by her male counterparts.

____________________

Words: 798

2/3