Loretta, disgruntled and sour, found Eytan in the distance. Lowly she growled, teeth gnashing at the air. It was hard to communicate with the bear, but she hoped that her friend would understand she was not growling at him but at the mountain she was bound to. Dropping her boy down into the dirt near the grizzly, the malamute huffed and shut her mind off from Archibald--she did not want to hear any of his shit right now. Resting her head on her paws, Loretta decided she would stay here until that bastard was to find her. Until he did, she would stay silent.

As the stallion prepared himself for the battle to come, the part of his mind that Loretta occupied went dark. It was different from when their bond was severed by the absence of the gods from Helovia, and he knew it was not permanent. She had closed herself off from him. The behemoth grunted, tail flicking. For as long as Loretta had been able, she had been at his side in battle. He understood that it hurt her now to be cast aside, but this fight was worth more than victory. Ktulu was not some streetside vagabond he wished to dominate, or a slick-tongue he wished to silence. No, Ktulu was his Champion, and Archibald had been called to test her mettle--or so he thought. While he knew Ktulu quite well, Archibald could not say for certain why he had been called here today. A small smirk lit his features when a prediction crossed his mind. Had Ktulu called him today because she felt no challenge against fighting the warriors below her? He wanted to chuckle at the thought, but instead he quieted his mind. He knew he would need to stay focused, as he always was in spars, but especially today. The Constrictor was no spring filly, innocent to the ways of this world. Her body had been twisted and used in war just as his had, and she had experience tucked into the very fiber of her muscles, just as he. Today, the Dauntless would wrestle with someone who matched him in heart, soul, and will.

With his invitation, the black mare came barreling toward him. The stallion lowered his head some, muscles tightening and preparing a quick launch of his body. He had seen Ktulu move in battle before, and knew they could keep pace with each other, but her thinner limbs and smaller hooves could easily dance around him. Thankfully for him, however, Ktulu was not the first crazy mare to run at him headlong, with her horn pointed to decimate. In the shadows of the sunken caverns, Nyx had begun their tussle the same exact way. Snorting, Archibald lurched forward. Predicting that Ktulu would follow the same tactics Nyx would use, Archibald aimed to turn his body slightly into Ktulu, with his massive shoulder leading the way. He intended to slam his body into her right side with all of the force his massive, muscled body held. Like lightning, his neck shot out and his pale lips peeled away from blunt teeth, aiming to bite onto the shorter mare's topline, just behind her withers. As he did so, he felt the all-too-familiar sting of pain as her horn scraped like a razor across his flesh. Refusing to show his pain, Archibald kept his features stony and let no grunt or hiss escape his biting jaws. He would not give the black dun the satisfaction of having caused some sort of primal reaction from him, for the sight of his blood from the shallow wound would surely be enough to send Ktulu on a high of her own power.

Despite the cut being shallow, it still bled and it still stung. The exposure to oxygen and the small trickle of blood that soaked from the corner into his dark hide made the muscles surrounding the cut throb. Her horn had made its mark just behind his right shoulder, before his flank. The cut was small, and in a short time the pain would be forgotten. Thankfully the small injury would not hinder his movements, though he suspected that it would continue to bleed from using the muscles beneath the wound. Ktulu's horn was a lethal weapon, and this injury did not do justice to its true abilities. Archibald knew it; he also knew if he had not met her on her charge that her attack could have been much greater. The sun above them waged war on Archibald's dark coat, sweat forming already beneath dark hairs as he engaged in battle. Pale nostrils flared as the stallion breathed heavily, iron-clad hooves digging into the grassy earth below to continue to try and push into Ktulu further.

[PC: 1/3 | WC: 794 ]