The Mason was swift with courage and seemingly educated in this dance. When the initial shock had a chance to wear off, an approving smile flared in my eyes. Darkening the bottomless center with amusement and equal astonishment. It had been a long while since a warrior proved themselves skilled enough to take me by surprise.

Feathered wrist bone grew tense, vibrating as it’s hollow but solid weight thrashed against her crown, narrowly keeping the fragile primary feathers sheltered just behind the joint. Those pink jaws snapped out like a turtle who’d been teased once too many, they sought revenge for a minor lashing. Yet, thankfully failed to shred a single plume. (There was little cause for celebration though), the force wasn’t enough to provide distraction and seemed to only intensify her concentration and eagerness to push ahead.

Elsa’s counter against flailing limbs was calculated with shocking speed, I listened keenly for the shuffling of those glassy feet and caught a side glimpse of that frosted bust slipping in reverse. There wasn’t energy to be spent for further pondering or even time to grieve when my hindhooves failed to firmly scrape or buckle against their target; she’d wisely managed to avoid a majority of the force that I’d been hoping to deal.

Effort spent wasn’t entirely meant to be wasted, golden toes did manage to brush past some portion of her body. Though I’d been unable to see where, given my limited vantage point. Not more than a second later, amber toes came rushing back to earth. Forelimbs unlocked just as she came barreling forward, with every apparent intent at angling toward my right. Left wing sliced closed, pennons coming to fall snuggly against a feverous side. Velvet ears fell across skull in anticipation, I was tempted to turn head for a better visual but instead relied on the slight rise of one dextral ear to catch the muffled sound of daggers rushing against hot dirt. I shifted this sweaty bulk counter clockwise, spinning tight with head hooking in toward my left barrel as far as it would stretch.

This action fortunately left Elsa with nothing but shimmering humidity to thrust and bite into. Droplets of sweat darkened the flesh around patched girth and pits. A cloud of soil rose from our shuffling, flinging heavenward. A swath of grit clung to sweat, successfully staining my ivory parts a faint rustic color. Mouth slipped open, air coming forth as a heavy pant then closing as nostrils tested and drew in moist humidity along with her tantalizing wet fragrance. Pearly neck snaked out, teeth seeking a gold tipped wing that was no longer available for penetration. (I was none too eager to feel those grass stained molars again.)

Ebony jaws slipped briskly apart, I angled down for her left gaskin, pink gums glimmering with saliva as teeth widened toward attempting to sink into the forgiving flesh with an intent to bite hard enough that she’d feel pained movement for the remainder of this fray. Ivory tailpiece slashed back and forth, a thrashing deterrent to hopefully keep her jaws away from my rear should she get an idea to snap. Left wing emerged from painted barrel, aggressively swift with the resolve to advance against her left side and hopefully push my opponent a step or so off balance – or in more likelihood press tightly into the wing joints enough to prevent said appendage from altogether unfurling.

OOC:

Word count: 573
Attack: (2/3)