When the gladiator had accepted the girl's request to be taught more about what it took to become a warrior, she did not expect this.

Well, she did. But not so soon.

She wasn't ready. Not even a little bit.

Her mother and father had done all they could to teach the dragon-sisters self-defence, but being restricted with age and time, there was much left untouched. Natural fitness and stamina had been built up simply through living - and travelling - and spending time with their draconic counterparts. But none of that compared to what the girl faced now. Dragons might have teeth and tails and wings and fire, but their social structure was different to that of the equines (and pegasus and unicorns) of Helovia. They fought for different reasons, and Amaris was about to learn the weight those reasons carried.

A shaky breath was pulled in through quivering nostrils, as the girl attempted to mimic the gladiator before her, holding her wings out to her sides slightly, ready to take the battle to the skies if need be (a thought that horrified the girl). The head warrior was not tall of stature, but rope-like muscles were apparent all across her dark hide - at least the girl should not easily lose sight of her amongst the golden-white sands of their home. It was a pleasant enough day, at least as far as the weather was concerned - what was about to happen, Amaris was sure, would not be pleasant.

The girl lowered her tiara, mostly out of habit, wanting to appear smaller and more harmless like she did when meeting someone new for the first time. The sands were heavy beneath her hooved feet, recent sprinklings of rain making it less likely to churn up and obscure the view of her opponent - which also meant her pale golden and silver hide would be easily tracked as well.

Anticipation mingled with anxiety within the girl, combining until a confusing array of excitement won out; it was a necessary emotion for her to have if she were to actually go through with this. A gulp of air was swallowed as she nodded to the Gladiator's words; it was her attack. Attempting to call upon the lessons her mother instilled upon her of masking all the fear and worries that swirled within, the dragon surged forth, her path aimed roughly to meet head-on with the warrior, her speed that of a swift and serious trot. Ears slicked back as the girl swung her long, scythed tail to the right sharply, her hips following the path and swinging around too.

But she did not commit to the attack - she didn't want to strike the Gladiator down with the bony scythe that marked her as different amongst even her own hybrid kind. Amaris didn't want to draw blood - and perhaps that would be her downfall. So instead of striking with her tail, the girl darted forward from her new position, and instead kicked out with both hind legs, hoping to meet the dark mare's pectoral region with at least one of them.

[520 words
1/3 attack posts
0/1 closing defence ]