The whinny that comes to my ears is a familiar one. I've only met her once, but that sweet and tender voice is unmistakable: Dröm. The last time I saw her she was being drooled on by the ass named Panzram. They shooed me from their little cave (and did Gods know what after), but Dröm and I agreed to rendezvous later, whatever that means. We didn't, but now that I hear her voice, I wonder what sort of trouble we will get ourselves into. Of course I heard her just after waking from a peaceful nap. The cool air, pleasant after the recent rains, has left the atmosphere perfect for, well, whatever you want to do. I'm rested, and in the perfect mood to see what the pretty chestnut is up to.

I find her looking very different from the last time I saw her. Dark and sweaty (has she been doing cardio?), and it looks like someone has unkindly splashed mud all over her. I approach and stop a few yards away, cocking my head as I examine her. "Sounded like a battle cry, Comrade. Shall I dirty you up some more?" I give a deep chuckle, finding myself amusing. 'Shall I help?' Damaris asks me quietly. She's dogged my path for awhile, and comes up now to sit beside me. 'You may, but be careful. It was a close call with Bellona and I don't want you to get hurt.' She consents and jumps away, making sure that we don't start anything with her so close to heavy hooves.

I look back toward the muddied chestnut and, were my eyes not whited out, she might see mischief playing in my orbs. I don't wait for her response, taking advantage of being the initiator. I step forward and lunge, closing the short distance between us. I extend my neck and bare my stained teeth, attacking the lady straight on and aiming for her neck. She's my herd mate and a nice enough girl - I don't want to do her too much damage. But if she's not careful I might get a slice of her skin, and she'd better watch out for the spikes that decorate my face. Damaris yelps from the side, lunging at the mare but then backs away before making any sort of real attack. I clamp my teeth down, hoping to grab some neck skin, then retreat as quickly as my draft body allows, still facing Dröm. The mud below sucks at my hooves, making disgusting squelching sounds as I move in it. I have no doubt that I shall soon appear as muddy as she does, with our rough-housing kicking up the nasty from the ground. So far I haven't moved much distance to cause slippage, or so I think, but it presents a definite risk for the rest of the fight - for both of us. At least the rain is moving away!

I laugh a little as I retreat. "Just because you invite a spar does not mean that you'll get the first hit!" I take a deep breath then bark at her cheerfully: "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" As if I really know what I'm doing, as if I'm the big bad boss at spars. I'm one of the first you'd think of lacking in constant vigilance, and have been taken advantage of plenty of times. All these things being acknowledged, there is no reason she has to know that. There is no reason for her to know that I'm a fairly unsuccessful general, nope, none at all!

593 words
Attack 1/3
@[Dröm]