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08-09-2015, 04:57 PM
Ashamin Boom, crack, fall. A perfect collision, the sensation of two cleft hooves striking true and making purchase. The impact sent a shudder through his whole body and he stumbled forward and down, away from the target at his back. Ebony met ivory, strength made hurt, and the heart began to crumble. Ashamin had felt the warrior's spirit rush through him and quickly forgotten one thing: this was a spar. How often would he make this foolish mistake, and strike with more strength than a battle of practice required? The snap of bone had been loud, and though perhaps he could have imagined it, and maybe he wasn't certain, the possibility was horrifying. His body finished its shaky fall back to the earth, four legs rooted in the cold and wise mind suddenly frantic. He felt nothing at his back, but Lochan flashed the sight: stillness. For a moment, the fight was in delicate pause. Find a mender, Ashamin thought to his bonded, sending him off firmly with a nod. The haruspex watched, panting, thin red line on his shoulder dripping, as the black cerndyr bounded off. Whenever this spar ended, hopefully soon, hopefully now, a healer's touch would be required. Just as the painted buck turned to look at Zandora, opened his mouth to speak, apologize, and beg that the battle be forfeit, he felt her force. She had taken him off guard, taken advantage of the blindness of his remorse and his moment with Lochan. The turn of his head, a harmless glance to the left and his back, suddenly became his only defense against the snapping of her teeth as they missed their mark--a lucky shift. But her body, her body still struck. And though she was just shy of his height, and though the purity of her breed provided her a lightness where his mixed heritage had thickened his frame and curved out his nose, the surprise was enough for her smaller frame to knock him down. Ashamin called out, his cry a tug on the tether of his bonded, a physical jerk he felt in his heart as Lochan stopped, somewhere distant now in the woods, and turned to look back. But go on, the haruspex thought through the pain as he fell. Don't stop, little eye. And so Lochan ran and the Haruspex fell on his side, the shock of Zandora's body forcing him to the earth, the pounding of her hooves against his barrel and--given the angle of his decline--cut shoulder, relentless. He groaned as a hoof struck the tenderness of the cut, widening the gash and spraying red up towards the purple that aimed to strike him. Was this her fury, then, so strong that she could fight through the full force of his pain? He felt something like a fracture (if that even was the pain, as if he could tell what hurt's source was, now) radiate through the first bone of his injured foreleg and gasped as the marks that would be bruises began to spot his barrel. The warrior buck struggled, planting his hind hooves in the earth and digging the clefts of his hooves in to penetrate the thin surface of frost. His long tail struck out, lashing wildly at the two hind legs that were Zandora's support and hoping their sparks might shake her resolve or her stance. With all his might, then, Ashamin leaned to his right to straighten himself, out from under her hooves and into the shadow cast by her underside, and stood. It was a feeble motion at first; his right foreleg shook as pain radiated from his shoulder, which was hopelessly battered and certain to soon be purpled. But he still put all his strength into the act, standing on three legs, lifting his injured one up to bend it away from the weight of his body crushed against earth. At least he was not unaccustomed to the sensation of being lame, thanks to Torleik. If he had any luck, perhaps he would be fast enough and able to throw her from his back. He pushed further to his right, aimed to press harder against her left and underside, driving her to the clearing's edge. There, a firm tree stood. A target and a bullseye, upon which to cast this mare warrior's right side as a dart, against which to hold her fast and strong. That is, if only he had the speed left in him, if only the weakness would overtake her. Somehow, with pain shaking him so badly he could no longer focus his spirit or mind, Ashamin forgot to feel guilty. WC: 775 PC: 3/3 attack, 0/1 defense Timeline: Standard, no more than 3 weeks between posts. Summary: The buck lands and Ashamin thinks he hears Zandora's rib crack, shaking his resolve. Ashamin falls back into a stand and tell Lochan to leave and find a healer. He turns his face to look back at her and ask her to fight, avoiding her bite, and is taken by surprise and as a result hit with the full force of her body. He falls to the ground, exposing his right foreleg/shoulder and barrel . He strikes out to hit her hind legs with his hooves, maybe shocking them. Zandora's hooves hit, fracturing his right humerus and widening the cut from earlier. He the attempts to gather his strength and stand (on three legs) quickly enough, moving to the right, so that he can throw her off of his back, her left side hopefully crushed against a tree. Notes: Almost done! |
See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
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