Aside from training spars with Vincent, Archibald had never fought with another draft before so close to his size. Most of his brothers had some type of draft blood in them, save for Evers, Wilder and Emerson, but not full like Archibald and Vincent. Vincent outgrew Archibald by a couple of inches, but even so Archibald had always been the most skilled fighter and most intimidating powerhouse in his family. Now, though, Archibald had truly met a match. Birch was a ferocious fighter, passion driving his muscles. Underneath the dominating part that fueled Archibald’s dislike for this new stallion there was a neutral admiration for the way Birch fought. The stallion truly knew his body and how to handle it.

Archibald feels contact on his first attack, but his happiness in the attack hitting was not lived to its full life. Archibald’s second attack also slammed on the white draft, a surge of power running through Archibald’s veins. Blood pumped in the warrior’s ears, deafening him to the barks and whines of his companion. Loretta stayed off to the side, her body moving furiously as she paced. Archibald pushed her away mentally, honing in on the fact that she was not ready for battle. Loretta whined still, pleading to have permission to protect her bonded.

Archibald moved forward once all four of his hooves touched the ground of the Threshold. In the dimming light the earth grew colder and Archibald’s muscles were growing tight with a full day of use. If he had not already preformed an entire patrol routine Archibald would have more stamina to force into this battle. Archibald cursed his dedication and pride, the two mixing in his battle so fervently. This encounter would leave the massive guardian tired. Archibald would accept refuge of the Foothills tonight with an open heart. He would have to find his mother and brothers, to assure their safety before he could rest, however.

Archibald clenched his jaw as pain rippled down his hind end. Birch had successfully landed his kick on Archibald’s leg. A bruise would form and Archibald would be sore and stiff from the impact of the large, powerful hooves. The pain radiated around his fibula, his body sending heat to the area attacked. With a head full of frustration and a heart full of pride Archibald turned his body just in time. The black stallion lowered his center of gravity, back legs bending. Pain surged through him and he knew he needed to finish this fight quickly. Feeling his chest swell with a giant breath Archibald opened his mouth and released a long, high pitched, screaming neigh.

Simultaneous to his advantage as a ranked warrior Archibald reared to match Birch. Archibald’s feathered hooves swung out to strike at the legs and knees of the white before him. With hard eyes Archibald prepared his body for the tangle of the two drafts, pit strength and tactic against strength and tactic. These two hurricanes were running full force, and they were colliding to become one megastorm.

[WC: 506 | Birch’s kick landed on Archibald’s gaskin area, affecting his fibula. Pain fuels his anger and Archibald turns as Birch does, using his battle cry and rearing to kick out at Birch’s legs.]