100%
Hector was sweating profusely. The body he brandished was large, wrought with thick sinew that rippled beneath the gloss of his sodden red coat. His bold form was fashioned with old Spanish blood renowned for elegance, athleticism and power; the more subtle Thoroughbred influence allowed him a slimmer, lighter weight skull to wield ivory weapons in war, and capacity to cover smaller distances at a great rate of speed. As the early afternoon sun beat down upon the arena, the giant knew his meagre stamina was flagging. He was blessed with many warrior-worthy attributes, but alas, a mortal was never invincible; he knew his weaknesses.
The chestnut’s left front hoof sank again beneath the bed of sand, and the sloping shoulder above slid clear of her hot body. Lunging incisors had discovered the skin taught across the mare’s rump just as planned, though the unpredictability of their two moving bodies had caused his grip to fasten a little more convincingly than expected; brief, but with nasty consequence. The sour taste of blood was something he was all too familiar with, but as it leaked into the saliva across his tongue, it gave no pleasure. Each of Hector’s assaults thus far had been designed thoughtfully for the purpose of this spar alone, and a faint twinge of remorse glinted through sun-kissed eyes.
Ears lifted from their bed of twirling mane, and his right fore-knee stiffened so that the hoof corresponding might fall back to earth with the same precision as its brother. It was not meant to be however... The seemingly slight graze endured by her bucking attack had injured the nerves above bone and the numbness, the
wretched pins and needles, only became obvious as his bulk fell upon it. Hector stumbled clumsily forward across a buckling knee, and his tangerine eyes flung wildly to the sky. Not fool enough to linger so near to the ground mid-fight, the hybrid stallion’s enormous wings beat to lift him and he staggered to right himself as the feeling began at last to return.
Unfortunately, while distracted entirely by the effect of his injury, the warrior’s normally heedful eyes had failed to find the next motion of his opponent. Hector stood barely feet from where he had landed, left side exposed entirely as his wings dithered at half mast above.
Clever girl... he awarded her silently, stunned by his own foolish lack of focus. Surely if this was the battlefront, and she the ruthless enemy, he would be in trouble. There was a very snide sneer from the sideline. Veci had arrived back from the task he had been set none too impressed that his bonded had committed to the spar alone. The stallion had no time to pander to the ego of his friend however- the mare was barrelling forward towards him.
The familiar
swoosh of feathers splitting air drew copper ears and eyes to match around hastily. The stallion hesitated; weight set back across coiling haunches, startled no doubt by the imminent, dazzling fuchsia wingspan off his left side. She certainly looked formidable as she came; a confusion of colour, churning limbs, and rocking antlers; flared nostrils and gleaming green eyes almost as wide. Hector could bring only his front to swing in time as she rose in front of him like a mishmash cyclone of impending doom... and he braced.
With her came a flurrying wall of dust and sand, enough to force his face right defensively. Irritated eyes burned as granules gathered beneath blinking lids and fluttering lashes, and there was a blur of movement to his front as the mare’s plunging forelegs drove hooves down to strike with full force the curve of his bent neck. Clenched thighs cushioned much of the impact, so instead of toppling backwards, Hector was forced right,
writhing, following the path set by his skull. The pain was immense and lingered even as he drew away from her; bruising that would undoubtedly penetrate deeply the muscle layered along its length. Perhaps the truth of this battering would climax through the days to follow as swelling only doubled to amplify his agony.
For now though adrenaline helped to lessen the ache (if only slightly), and his warm well stretched muscles masked the reality of the damage from his arcing brain. That was not to say he danced away obliviously... Hector’s breathless, harried groan stretched well clear of their battle-dome, and his neck fought bitterly as he strained to straighten it. Surrendering to the reluctance of his burning crest, the stallion swung instead his hindquarters towards her, smoothing his spine while at the same time throwing a hefty buck into the air behind him.
779/800
Attack 3/3
Defence 0/1
.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
⇒
[JUDGED] The Decider (Hector x Arvakl)
