It didn't take long for a hound of hell fire to appear, followed quickly by it's bonded. A thin smile falls upon her lips as the brown and white crests the hill. 'Penna, I do believe not very many people know that I was once a warrior. I think that should remain a secret for now.' Pricked ears could easily catch the laughter in the falcon's screech. So this male would be cocky, maybe even mad he had been given such an easy opponent. This spar just became a whole lot more interesting. Would he take it easy on the poor small mason? Or would he allow the, possible, rage inside to spill out. Either would be fine, he would learn. Oh he would learn not to underestimate anyone, especially the short ones.

Without so much as a hello, or dip of his head, the stallion charges straight forward. Without waiting for a request the falcon tucks his wings. Beady black eyes narrowed for impact. As he had promised the flying hunter dove at the top of his speeds for the hell-hound. Waiting until the last second the bird threw his wings wide razor sharp talons aimed for it's front leg. While Penna went for the hound Parelia focused completely upon the stallion. He was much larger, in height and bulk. Plans ran through her mind fast a lightning. She was small, swifter, more agile. He was much faster than he first appeared, and crashed into her side. Anger replaced the cocky attitude she had first dawned as pain bubbled up in the form of a bruise upon the right side of her chest. Stumbling to the left her sturdy legs and hooves seek a hold upon the snowy ground. Even as she fumbled around teeth caught her wing sending a small splatter of blood to the white ground. A squeal of outrage bugled from light cream lips. She would not risk further damage to her precious wings, so she would stay land bond, for now.

Finally catching herself the dove rushes backwards to gather herself for a second, before rushing back to meet him. Teeth bared and ears pinned flat the girl rushes straight at him, honey eyes locked on his dark brown. She would not give herself away if it could be helped. Once close enough she lunged, mouth wide open, teeth searching for his front left cannon bone, while allowing the momentum she had built to carry her past him. Right before she was out of his reach the mare threw up her heels; hooves searching for his right shoulder, even better his jaw. One swift kick to the jaw would surely send his head reeling. Once her hooves where back on the ground she sprinted forward, hopefully out of his reach before spinning to meet him with flat ears and bulging eyes.
Speaking Penna