Arvakl

With teeth marks over my back and over my rump, I'm surprised that I'm not in more pain. I think that perhaps this fire-kissed beast may be taking it easy on me. But hey - who can blame him? I wouldn't want to damage the goods either. The blood that has risen to the surface on my rump from his teeth mixes with the sweat that coats my sleek form, and the two mix to color a patch of me a strange pink color. I giggle, a sound that pierces the air of battle like a knife. No sane being would giggle in the middle of a spar, but did I really ever say that I am a sane being? This not-so-sane girl wants a little bright red stallion tush when all is said and done.

But only if I can season him with the coppery taste of his blood - or even mine if I smear it on him. And as my hooves fly toward his muscular body that is what I hope to do. He's turned now so that his left side is exposed to me, his wings partially up with potential to protect himself. Potential. A sly grin appears on my puckers as my legs extend, sending my hooves his way. He turns toward me, but he's not fast enough to avoid my blow. To my great pleasure, my plan to manipulate the granular ground succeeds and he turns his head away from me, trying his best to keep from being blinded. (Would we not all have that goal?) But as he does so, his neck is just the perfect piece of flesh to dig into. My hooves slam against his curved nape and batter it, forcing him away from me and to his right. I land there on the ground where he once was, and my wings beat to soften my forelegs' landing on the ground.

As he steps away, I hear him groan, and I think for a second that perhaps I have managed a victory. Does he give up? Do I win? ...is that what he'll sound like when we.. you get the idea. But he's not done with me, not yet. My grin twitches on my lips, as I'm unsure whether to be happy or unnerved that there are hooves flying at me. Most would be unnerved or upset - no one really likes to be in danger. But at the same time, I wonder what a new cut or scar on my face or chest would look like. I turn my face away in time, but the rest of my body is slow to move away from his hooves. He makes contact with the left side of my neck, and the edge of one of his hooves slices open the skin, leaving a jagged edged gash along my once immaculate skin. Not even the corners of my mouth show any remnants of the smile that sat there so perfectly. The gash sears as grime gets inside the cut, and my blood transfers to decorate the stallion's hoof. I squeal with pain and pin my ears against my skull, eyes narrowing. Of course, I'm not denying that I like a little sadomasochism in my life, but I can't help but want a little revenge on the handsome man.

I try to stomach the pain and move forward, telling myself that I can bitch about my newest wound when this is said and done. I can't give in to it yet, no matter how much it hurts. I lunge forward to catch his falling rump before he can move away - or at least, I hope I can get there before he moves away. He's more agile than I expected, but perhaps I can be quick like a snake. My jaw opens, teeth grasping for the flesh on his defined hindquarters. I hope maybe I can give him a nice grab, some blood and skin? At least a pinch! Just a love bite, sweetie.. It's just a love bite!

I'm so FANCY