“You're being effeminate, you know,” you respond in a matter-of-fact tone to the white stallion who has answered your call. Nowhere in your plan did you specify that you had to be nice to whoever showed up. To be honest, even if it had been a clause in your new manifesto, you probably would have dropped it upon seeing the stud that stands before you. You're not really sure what to make of him and your knee-jerk reaction to anything foreign is rudeness. With furrowed brow, you try to look over him and get some sort of assessment but your eyes keep training back to the fabric that holds his mane and tail aloft... Why? Just why? If it's a distraction technique, it's certainly working.

In an effort to try and compose yourself, you shake your head a little bit from side to side. Naturally, this sends you careening off balance and you end up taking two (dressage worthy) side steps in order to keep yourself upright. Unfortunately, trees do not care about your balance or where your body is falling. Your rump bounces off another young oak but in the end you suppose that it's not really a bad thing. The surprise of bumping the tree makes you jump forward into a canter. Using the forward motion, you try to awkwardly dodge around the couple of trees that were between you and the Arab last time you checked.

Well trained already, even in her young age, you can feel your companion's excitement about the fight. She does not particularly care for sparring but this is the only time you acknowledge her, the only time you concede that she may yet be useful, the only time that she gets to feel as though you might actually care about her a little bit. So even though she does not like fights, she would do literally anything just to feel that connection with you. She even secretly hopes that someday she might prove herself useful enough to earn a name from you. So she struggles and toils, going against her very nature just to try and make you happy. It's horrible, really, how you have someone in your life who loves you so unconditionally and you don't even care.

But she's not the only one. Snowflake cares too, making excuses for you even when you are on your very worst behavior. She even pays attention to you... No. You snort. You will not think of Snowflake now. It only complicates everything, brings back those memories of your distant past, of home, of Kellian and the man who stole her from you. Your banishment is fact and something that you live with every day of your life, but that doesn't mean that you have to think about it. After all, that's what the drugs are for.

Dodging one last tree, you hope that you will approach the effeminate stud with your right shoulder parallel to his as you run by him. Shoving your body to the right, you lead with your shoulder and attempt to jam it into his right flank. Nevermind that he never really asked if you wanted to battle and you never really told him that was what was going on. You assume he's not so entirely imbecilic that he cannot figure these things out for himself. Of course, for some horses that might actually be assuming too much... You will just have to hope that he is not one of them.

Just after you attempt to press your shoulder into the stallion's side, you kick out lowly with your right hind leg. As your focus is mainly on the trees that are scattered about you didn't bother to look back, but your hope is to catch him somewhere along his front cannon bone and cause at least a good bruise. But then, the best laid plans of horse and men often go awry... who knows whats actually happening back there. For now, having completed what you hope was at least a semi-successful drive-by, you decide to reduce your speed to a wobbly trot. There is no reason for you to expend too much energy right now but you definitely don't want to stop at the scene of the alleged crime either.

And so another battle begins and the familiar rage of war begins to build in your bones. You are ready.


WC| 733
Post| 1/3
@[Fraub]- Just a reminder that I don't like to be tagged every time. Thanks! Also, no official notes this time since your first post isn't judged. I'll give you real feedback after your first post. The only thing I noticed of particular interest in the first post was that you said Oxy's bag was on his flank. If you're going to use anatomy terms, be sure you know where they are. The flank is just forward to the thigh on the mane body of the horse but Oxy's bag lies on his shoulder.