Round two motherfuckers. The last with Dröm was fun, but it wasn't what I really needed. She gave up way too easily, leaving me lacking in the practice that is essential. No, there are no wars right now, no defensive that I need to prepare or offense that I need to lead. But the feeling of being unprepared is like an itch under my skin that I just can't scratch. Though Oxy and I have our disagreements, I sense that he feels the same as I do. No, we need to step things up. We need regular sparring, practicing for whatever might come. Dröm did not fulfill that need. Since then, Oxy and I have put our thick skulls together and come up with a plan. Seasonal spars are the answer, and I've been paired this Tallsun with Elsa. I'm not wasting any time. My hooves pound into the warm, hard earth of the Falls as I make my way toward the lake. This is the last place I met with Elsa, by the lake. She was recovering from our last spar (when she kicked my ass), and also from a fight that left her without one eye. Damaris trots behind me, curious to see us spar. 'You were just a little pup when Elsa and I sparred for the first time.' Damaris is calm but curious. 'She was my first spar, actually.'

Damaris bounds ahead, her tail wagging as she moves toward the edge of the lake. I don't want to remind her that Elsa kicked my ass. But she probably remembers anyway. 'You fought well, Rosti.' She speaks into my mind calmly and with no rebuke or mocking. Thank goodness, I don't need my beloved companion to be mocking me along with Oxy and who knows else. She barks at me, and I look up from the ground that I had been staring at as I walked. The sun is bright and I squint to see ahead. Cloud cover is moving over - the conditions for a fight should be good. Not too hot, not cold, not rainy and not too sunny with the clouds. A perfect summer day. After a moment I see what it is Damaris is barking about - Elsa, up ahead, minding her own business by the water's edge. The pale-as-snow mare decorated with blue... and what's this, snow about her? A new magic for her then, I should congratulate her. But perhaps now is not that time. First I should destroy her, and afterward I can assuage her pain with compliments.

A zephyr flies around her, her companion that I'm nots sure I've ever met. Damaris watches it, trying to keep an eye on it in case it should attack me in our spar. I get closer and announce myself. I'd love to go for a surprise attack, but I feel that would be bad sportsmanship. That, and to be frank, I have more respect for Elsa than that. I believe she deserves more of a chance than that, to defend herself fair and square. "Elsa!" I call out and stop several yards away, facing the water and Elsa. "It's time, Comrade, for us to test our strength again." That's enough warning, right? Damaris braces herself and bares her teeth silently, ready for whatever may come, standing by my side in support.

I charge toward her, my thick legs pounding into the ground, two-toned mane flying in my self-created wind. When I first arrived, she was facing the lake, and I was aimed toward her left side from behind. I hope that she doesn't move, and that her blindness in the one eye somehow aids me. I slide to a halt when I'm nearly next to her, my hooves tearing up grass as I do so. I raise up on my haunches, front hooves flying, coming down like scythes toward her barrel and the back of where her wing connects on her side. Perhaps I can bruise her or slice her up, nothing that a healer and some time can't fix, of course - I don't wish Elsa any serious damage. She is my kinsman after all. Damaris stays back, not wanting to interfere with my attack or join in until the time is right. 'I shall win, my love, and balance everything out. No general should lose to his mason.'

725 words
@[Elsa]
Attack 1/3

Rostislav

more than a drunken fool