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Stars shimmered in the midnight sky, twinkling and shining, sometimes hinting that they were more than simple dots of white light - sometimes, one could make out the true colour their fiery bellies held. Sometimes they seemed to wink out of existence until one reconsidered them with a keener gaze, and then they would see that it was a cloud obscuring their view. The midnight canvas of the sky stretched out across a muscled hide, shimmering and glowing dully, illuminating nothing for the bearer of such passive magic, but instead acting as a soft beacon for her presence. Grey fog seemed to creep up the dark legs of the damsel, her form mirroring the climate as it had since her birth. No wind stirred as her limber stilts crossed the strange, grassy rooftop of the peculiar floating island that had appeared a handful of seasons ago.

The girl wandered, thoughts dragging her attention this way and that, ears twisting haphazardly atop the chiselled contours of her tiara. Yes, the daughter of the Ardent had returned to the Throat, the place of her birth, where everything began. And everything would finish, her thoughts drew the conclusion in her mind, offering a sense of peace that the cloud had not felt since her soul was ripped into shreds by the death of her companion. Shame still whirled within her, it still overwhelmed her at times, but this young Valkyrie, this Amazon warrior would not so easily give up, even when the odds stacked themselves against her.

Spotting the steed that was to be her patrol-mate, the girl paused her motion. Memories trickled through her crown now, flashes of times past, where her father instructed the warriors on how best to train and hone their bodies to be the strongest, fast and deadliest weapons a battle needed. The great red brute stood tall and huge in her memories, a behemoth of a giant, a mountain carved of fire and ivory stone. And as she viewed his dark, crimson form that was outlined by slightly lighter hair and markings, she could think of how he still looked huge and intimidating, no matter whether he was just standing or walking casually, or switched on to battle mode. He was as hefty as she was compact, but their forms also held similarities. A sweeping tail swung behind him just as it did her, and wings certainly large enough to carry the behemoth warrior rose from his shoulder blades. Ivory horns grew from the hard nasal plate of the steed's crown, and the girl observed these with careful consideration.

Though she was intimidated and grossly outweighed, a desire rose up within the young warrior's heart to prove herself against this beast of a stallion. Perhaps it was the recklessness she was born with, perhaps it was recklessness spurred by the grief and misery that constantly plagued her; perhaps it was both, combining dangerously to cause the belle to dive into this situation with barely a second thought.

If she did have that second thought, all it would have said was, 'Oh shit,' anyway.

Ears flattened beneath dreadlocked ropes of mane, as the girl let out a battle-cry that would surely alert Hector (and any nearby) of her intentions. Subtlety was not the girl's strong suit - it was all or nothing when it came to Cirrus in battle. The girl leaned back on her haunches to paw at the misty air before her with her own fog-hued legs, before pushing herself forward into a speedy canter. Her path was aimed to hold the bulk of Hector's left side in its centre until the very last moment, whereby the devious cloud would feint towards his haunches, before committing to a complete turn to her right. Should it work, and allow her to get her hind legs in an ideal position to make a strike, the girl would indeed kick out with both legs, tucking her chin to her chest as she did so, grunting with the effort of striking out so violently. Should her aim be true, her hooves might plant themselves sharply against the left side of the stallion's barrel, sneaking in beneath his generous wingspan and with any luck, forcing all the air in his lungs to be temporarily shunted out.

Truly, she wasn't worried about hurting him, she wasn't even angry as she attacked him seemingly at random. Mostly, she wanted to know how she stood up against this stalwart beast, to test herself - and to know just how strong the Throat's defences were since her father's fall.

[ ooc :: 764 words as counted in MS Word.
1/3 attack posts.
0/1 closing defence.
@[Hector]
Wheeee~ ]