One more day in this god-forsaken cave might kill you. Or at least you think it might. Sure, mocking Ampere was great fun and you’d do it again in a heartbeat, but it seems you scared her away pretty badly. For now, at least. She’ll have to come back eventually, because otherwise she’s going to get eaten by that stupid darkness up there and then who would you be able to mock? You mean, sure, you’d find somebody new to call your rival, to harass endlessly, to say one word to and know it’s going to send their blood boiling. But… The truth is, you’re not sure you’d find anybody quite as interesting as the little Blue. She does have a funny way of literally exploding at the slightest provocation.

So anyways, locked down here in the caves, you figure you may as well keep your skill honed. After all, losing all your talent while you’re waiting from your orders from Sun Man doesn’t really make any sense. Lifting your nose to the ceiling, you cry out- it’s a sound the Asylum should know well by now. And one of them will come, you’re certain of that. How many times have you told them that to be strong they must train, to win a home they must first practice? Not in so many words, and not nearly so eloquently, but certainly you have told them. And certainly they have understood.

Looking around you, you try to assess your surroundings. The waterfall falls in behind you, a soft white light from the ground above lighting the stony floor around you and giving a dusky hue to the rest of the air. You know that the moist, rocky ground will be slippery and difficult to run on, but you think this might be better for you. You’re not fast on a good day- and today is not a good day, so better to keep the fighting close. After all, you’re going on half a vine. Detoxing. You’ve been detoxing for the last week, or however long you’ve been down here, but nearly a lifetime of addiction is not ended in a week, or even a month. And you’re not mentally ready, anyways. You’ve already sworn off rehab.

Slipping your bag from your shoulder, you move to hang the thing on a stray rock that juts out from the wall. No sense in having it damaged again. There’s still a hole in it from your last spar- an unexpected run-in with a crazy woman that bested you. The thought of your failure gives you new desire to spar, even in your current state. Cold sweats and shaking aside, you’ve got something to prove. What good is a general if he can’t even win his fight?

You move back towards the center of the room, eyes on the doorway, each step you take clinking with the sound of metal on stone- horseshoes that you found oddly attached to your hooves upon waking one morning. Perhaps those gods you’ve denounced so many times have actually smiled kindly upon you. Whatever the reason they’re there, you’re pleased with them. You’ve never actually tried it, but you’re reasonably sure a hit to the ribs with hooves of metal would cause major damage.

@[Cashmere]- Feel free to attack first if you want.
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Scenery as described