Rostislav

The forest trees surround us, encircling us to make a sort of ring. Of course we just happen to be in a ring. What a coincidence! The peahen Bellona takes a few steps back, but stays to watch us have our row. Will she choose a side? She must not stay for long, or she might be come collateral damage. How many bodies should lie on this grassy floor? It's not a terrain I'm as used to fighting on. I've fought in snow, in thistle, in dust, but not in a nice, comfy forest. Honestly, I'd much rather lie down and take a nap than deal with this madness. The light is good enough that I can actually see what's going on, despite my sometimes poor vision. It was initially so calm that I might have decided to lie down and have a drink. But when trouble is on the horizon, that be no time for drinking. You save that beer or liquor, or whatever your pleasure, until after fighting's over. Then you get as drunk as you fucking want.

You know, honestly, I was trying to be polite and bow my head out of common courtesy. You know, manners? But it seems that this youngin' has no clue what I'm doing and has completely and utterly lost his mind. Has he never seen a Rostislav before? Of course he hasn't, but he doesn't have to be stupid about it. He bellows like a madman and charges me, not showing one sign of intelligence. Whatever opposition he's taken to me, he clearly hasn't thought of the ramifications of running straight into me. Son, you're going to impale yourself on my horns if you don't smart up right now. Damaris sees the oncoming stranger and yelps, jumping out of the way and off between two trees. She is not yet fit for battle, or rather, I won't let her. As for myself, I take a step back, bracing myself for impact.

Contrary to initial appearances, the boy does not come straight on, but veers off at the last second. He seems to have recovered some of his wits just in time to avoid a likely instantaneous death. Well good for him, but not good for me. He veers off to my right, and as I try to side step him, I find that I've turned just enough for him to catch an angle on me. His shoulder slams into mine and I grunt, feeling his muscle and bones collide with mine. The part of his shoulder that protrudes slightly feels like a hammer slamming into me, but even as I stagger aside, head tossing and nostrils flaring with irritation, I know that I am lucky. It's not a major wound, and especially in comparison to the last few spars I've had (I'm having another?!), it seems more like a scrape on the playground.

You can't just charge at someone, though, and expect there to be no retaliation. I'm not sure what this boy thinks, and wonder if he knows what's coming to him. I turn back toward him and rise up on my hind legs. With a masculine, warlike groan I bring my front hooves down, hoping to his his back or flank as he continues on past me. My right leg relies more on gravity than my own strength due to my now sore shoulder, but at least I have one good leg for tearing flesh, right? I hope that I am fast enough and that he is slow enough, but I know that in times like these there is no telling how a battle may go. Perhaps I can leave some scrapes or spill some blood, but even if I only bruise the lad that would do my heart good. Maybe he'll get lucky and move past without a whisper of a touch. I have nothing against this stranger, but he seems to harbor something against me. I hope we can stop this nonsense, but not until I've taught this chap a lesson.

Walk. Talk.

Attack: [1,3]
WC: 674
Tag: @[Gull]
OOC: Sorry I took awhile! Angled his body and tried to move away but instead just made Gull's hit more successful on the shoulder. Rosti staggers back giving him space to rear up and try to strike at Gull with his forefeet. Whatever part he hits (if he hits) depends on Shady and where she thinks Gull will be as he moves past.

Top Shelf Sexy Badass