I watch her, amusement leaking through my expression, but do not say anything. Though she may intend her flirting to be innocent and playful, I can't help but stand up straighter and at attention. After all, it doesn't take much for me to be interested in a lady. Mmmm... ladies.... But that sort of interest would be better suited for another time, and it is clear if I ever pursue the notion I will have to prove myself to her.

Such as right now with this spar.

Her challenge is clear and I cannot wait to accept it. 'If you wanna hit this, you've gotta catch me first.' Very well. I look back at Damaris on my rump and encourage her in my mind to jump down and rest out of the way. Luckily the air is warming up with the approach of Birdsong, and I am not too worried about the young hellhound pup catching cold. She curls up by a tree and I press my muzzle to her forehead tenderly. She licks my snout for encouragement. I take a moment to lower my pouch from my neck. Though the alcohol may bolster my courage, it could distract me and make me unsteady, so I will abstain for now. Perhaps afterward I will enjoy a nice gulp -- drowning myself in vodka.

I turn back toward the snowy white mare, her blue-tinged wings, mane, and tail a perfect complement to the snow. Were this another, more peaceful moment to savor, I might have stopped to admire and compliment her beauty. But it's not a peaceful moment, it's time to play rough and tumble. My white eyes betray nothing - how can they, without pupils? I take a step toward her - one hoof, then another. My tail, long and feline, swishes back and forth, like a panther waiting to pounce on its prey. She's not too far away, and has turned to face me. I realize just before I move that this fight isn't just for fun. It's also to impress Damaris, and work on my new position as 'Tiro' within my herd. I need to practice this new art-form, and I want to know that if any harm were ever to present itself to my bonded, I would be able to defend her. My heart hardens and my muscles tense; though I mean Elsa no true harm, I must take myself and this spar seriously.

I stamp the ground with one striped hoof, sending snow flurrying around it in a small radius. Concentrating only on the task before me, I launch forward, covering the small distance between us. I move like I am about to attack her right side, but I feint to the left, attacking her other side instead. My head lowered, my horns are pointed toward where I anticipate her side to be. At the risk of being impaled, it would be an excellent idea for her to move out of the way. The black, bony dragon spikes on my faces are shorter but sharp, the one at the top of my forehead at least eight inches long and poised to pierce any flesh. The eland horns on the top of my head are longer still but a little duller - an excellent weapon nonetheless. My body lunges toward her slim porcelain side, horns pointed at her rib cage, hoping to drive beneath her tender hide, or at least bruise her ribs.

I may not be super fast, but I am strong and well-built. In this moment, I am not the weak victim of my parents' abuse. I'm not the infamous drunken fool hiding behind his mask of alcoholism. For once, I feel that I have agency. I can attack and defend, and surely deal damage. I'm not powerless. In my mind I feel Damaris's encouragement. The language of our minds is still primitive, incomprehensible, but I can sense what she feels, and she can sense what I feel- emotion flashes vividly without the need for words. I take heart in her support and feel energy surge through my body. I didn't expect to feel this alive, especially without my alcohol. I try to prepare for her counterattack by keeping my head lowered, horns toward her, backing up a few steps all the while. No matter what my attack might have done, I call out in triumph, feeling beautifully elated as blood pumps hard through my veins.

This... This is something I could get used to.

Text text text.
"Words words words."

OOC: No use of magic or companions. (For one, Damaris is not old enough, but she may be watching from a distance.) Birdsong is approaching in this thread, continued from the last, so they're still acting like it is Frostfall. Agency = a person or thing through which power is exerted or an end is achieved.
WC: 740
Tag: @[Elsa]
Attack: [1/3]
Dice roll