Loretta, limping and whining in soft tones, plunged into the water, hoping for solace and safety. The cur winced as the cool water touched her body, the cut on the set of her tail stinging with the rush of water surprising it. I'm fine. Finish her. Loretta snapped at Archibald, feeling his rage seeping through her own ribcage and heating up her heart. Archibald snorted, no satisfaction rolling over his mind as he landed several intense bites on Nyx's rump. In any other circumstance Archibald would deal blows and rejoice, if only for a second, in their success, but now he only wished for Nyx to be abolished under his hoof for the lashing Loretta took. As Archibald tore at Nyx's hindquarters the mare launched her own assault, onyx hooves aimed for his thick chest. Her hooves cracked against Archibald's breast, thrusting a grunt from his gut. Pain rippled down his descending pectoral muscle, the nerves jumping as electrical circuits spasmed and screamed. Something about her kick was different, however, and Archibald's mind pinpointed on it when he felt a spread of warm blood dampen his fur where the rocks stuck in Nyx's hooves had sliced his skin. The cut was small, an half inch at most, which seemed like a feeble wound on his monstrous body. Archibald's trained mind worked quickly, and he pushed forward, continuing his assault as planned.

Nyx returned to a solid posture, though she seemed to fall victim to the overpowering might of his magical ability. A cold, dark look clouded over the warlord's molten gaze. Satisfaction, possibly, though it would be impossible for any innocent bystander to see. The soldier's hoof landed hard on Nyx's hind leg as she turned her body, her movements slow like the sap inside of a tree caught in the dead of winter. Archibald took the advantage of the slowness he forced down on her to rush forward to hopefully land parallel to the mare on her right side. Archibald then thrust his head down and away from Nyx, to protect his face and delicate bones from another blow of her hooves. With ears pinned back, the Dauntless moved his weight to his forehand, twisting his body to attempt to close more distance into the mare's right side. Archibald threw both hind legs in the air, hoping to land a devastating, double kick on Nyx's right shoulder or ribcage. He felt the stoney mare's horn move past his thick thigh, just out of reach of slicing into the skin and muscle. He was relieved, though only for a second that his mind would allow, for his movements and the magic that had granted him the ability to, hopefully, gain purchase where he wanted. Nyx's forward scrape of her hooves came all too soon, however, clipping Archibald's left heel as his hooves came back towards the ground. It was smooth underneath his mass, the footing as excellent as when they have first begun.

Hind hooves fell back to the smooth floor of the cave, and something within his warlord's brain clicked. Where did the small stones stuck in her hooves come from, and why had Nyx not been injured by the sharp edges? Archibald knew well from his travels the bother that small stones could be, getting stuck on the bottom of his feet and causing bruising and uncomfortable movements. The kingly stallion snorted and turned to his right, hoping that the mare would feel the pain from what she had used against him like small daggers. The onyx man hoped to bring his hind end perpendicular with her's to create a sort of ninety-degree angle. Quickly and sharply Archibald cow kicked out with his right hind hoof, hoping to land a blow near Nyx's ergot, though the potential for him to snap his kick on her canon or flex tendons would still be as satisfactory to the Dauntless. Snorting again, Archibald cantered forward, away from Nyx, before turning to face her again, his head low and ready for another attack.

Archibald's neck was arched, muscles bulging along its length, his body tense and prepared to strike and defend. The ex-general's breathing was labored, and sweat began to soak the fur along the crevices of his body. Archibald snorted again, tossing his head as a warning. The dark knight stayed silent, however, the rage inside of him boiling although he could hear Loretta reassuring him of her condition on the back of his mind. Nyx would bow to him, grovel under his might and power, and beg his forgiveness. Archibald the Dauntless was born a protector, a stronghold to defeat all opponents, and those designs amplified when the situation dealt with his companion, Circe, or sons. The Dauntless had killed, and he would kill again to protect what was his.






[WC: || PC: 3/3 | M&C: 2/2 | Archibald is using his buffs Dance and Aim. || Sorry for the wait, dear. Feel free to smack me.]