Curving his body and turning, Einarr lifted his head. Ashamin's quickly-moving body was advancing toward him, a flicker of black and white. Snorting, the black stallion thrust his wings open and into the air, beating hard against the howling wind as he pushed off the snowy ground into a rear. Ashamin's speed matched Einarr's, it seemed, as the bloodrider lifted himself just off the ground enough to avoid the battering ram of the paint's shoulder against his own. However, Ashamin still managed to make contact with Einarr's body, and the stallion was pushed roughly to the left. A bruise formed beneath his dark skin on the right side of his body, just behind his shoulder. Thankfully it was not on his shoulder, for the pain of the bruise would surely hinder the use of his massive wings had it landed as such. Gritting his teeth, Einarr pushed hard with his wings to steady himself. Hind hooves dug into the snow as he kept his rear, head high above the painted buck's. Red-brown eyes narrowed and the pride in his chest turned to ash as Ashamin's teeth lurched for his blackened wing. Anger roared in his chest, an unbridled, instinctual emotion blooming from the deeply-bred desire to protect his wings at all costs. A pegasus without the ability of flying was not a pegasus at all! He knew how much losing the appendages meant, how much it hurt the pride and reputation of a pegasus. The others in the Dragon's Throat looked down on Laedere because her wings were useless, and as a warrior of the desert, Einarr could not face that fate. Quickly, Einarr moved his legs upwards, though it was not enough to save him from the paint's attack. Ashamin's blunt teeth scraped across Einarr's right cannon. Fur and skin scraped away to reveal a line of blood, and the bloodrider took in a sharp breath. There was very little muscle on the lower part of his leg to help dull the brunt of the attack, and so it stung like hell.

Snorting hard, Einarr swung his forehooves down wildly toward Ashamin's head. While the stallion normally might not usually use such harsh tactics in a spar of this manner, the attack to his wing was nearly unforgivable. Did Ashamin not understand what hurting Einarr's wings could mean!? Whether or not Ashamin truly knew the consequences of his intended actions was of little regard to Einarr. The part of him that burned so primally overpowered his more civil side in the wake of his disintegrated pride for the buck. Some more refined than he could argue that his civilized side did not exist at all, that he was merely a primal being no matter what the situation was. In his heart, Einarr knew that was not true of his being, but how could he show that when the switch from civil to primal was so easily flipped in his brain?