The haruspex watched Caleb land on the snowy earth. The scene was almost serene, and in that instant he was almost able to forget about the searing pain between his withers and the hot blood that trickled along his shoulder.

Somehow, his voice had carried enough authority to shame the new soldier, that much was clear. Ashamin didn't smirk, simply because smirking wasn't something Ashamin ever really did, but he did smile slightly. Just one corner of his lip raised, but it was enough. And when Caleb began to approach--shifting from a rapid dash in the skies to a gentle, slow walk--The haruspex let his eyes soften. So the younger stallion was learning, then. So Ashamin was making a difference.

The paint's whole body ached with Caleb's last attack, and so for a moment he stood utterly still. The idea behind the statuesque stance was perhaps that without movement, there could be no pain. But Ashamin knew this to be false, and as his bruised knees started to wobble and his cuts started to sting, he knew the tactic was useless. Besides, Caleb was coming closer.

Though there were many things Ashamin could have said to answer Caleb, he only nodded. At times, he could return to the self in him that had felt too unsure to ever speak a word. Now he was sure, he was certain and confident, but he was still scared of the effect he'd apparently had on the hybrid. So quickly had the badger boy diminished his flame that it had almost worried the haruspex.

So Ashamin only nodded, for fear of what else his words might change. And when Caleb drew close enough that an attack grew likely, the painted wise one set off at a loping trot with a gait slowed by the effects of Caleb's aerial attack. Still, Ashamin was able to move quickly enough that Caleb's bite only grabbed hold of his right flank for a moment. Though he winced at the foreshadowing of a bruise to come, Ashamin pressed on.

Somehow, he felt more energized than before. Perhaps it was the warrior's spirit, running through his veins and dulling the pain in his forelegs and withers. Perhaps it was the fact that he'd managed to calm Caleb down in an instant, as if he had power.

As Ashamin swung his head wildly to the right, reaching out to bite at Caleb's croup in the same place his hooves had landed before, he thought about that power. What was it to garner so much respect that you could alter the tactics of an experienced fighter in an instant? How, and when, had he gotten to a point in his life where he held that much influence?

Caleb was new, that was all it was, he said to himself. So many others would have ignored his remark, then, and fought with the same blindness as before. But was that really true? Ashamin's ears drew back at the thought and the closing of his jaw. Maybe he was important, for once. Maybe, he was doing something right.

Silently, Lochan cheered his bonded on.
 
Word Count: 520
Post Count: 3/3  
Summary: Ashamin begins to trot forward so that Caleb's bite grabs his flank instead of his shoulder--it leaves a decent bruise. Ashamin tries to bite at Caleb's croup while trotting, in the same place where he kicked him before, in hopes that it will send Caleb running past him and end the fight. The last gesture is somewhat scolding.
Notes: I was still confused about which shoulder Caleb was going for, I reread it a bunch, but I went with right shoulder cause that was what you said first. Great spar! Thanks for doing this with me, Bay. :)

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ASHAMIN