Ashamin did not smile or snort with success; his face was set with seriousness, down-turned and steady. This was a fight for defense, nothing more. What was there to take pleasure in when every moment that this stranger delayed him Lochan was lost and calling for him?

Ashamin's large ears turned away, and he let his focus slip. That sound, yes... Lochan really was calling for him. He wasn't imagining that, was he?

Though he was lucky enough to still make some purchase, his onslaught stuttered at the phantom sound of his companion and the aim of his bite was drastically thrown off. No matter how he tried to stay focused on what was ahead, the soft lowing of Lochan somewhere in the distance had turned his head ever so slightly, and when his teeth clenched on flesh he found them dragging away and down the other buck's right.

Weakly he let go, his hooves landing in a shallow puddle (maybe of blood, maybe of rainwater) and his eyes glazing over with loss. That cry--Lochan had to be near. He wanted to call out, keep searching around him, forget this fight, but the attack that came next prevented him from falling completely away. The haruspex was lucky enough to see a flicker of light catch on the enemy's hooves and dart to his right, avoiding the full force of his attacker's buck. But he wasn't lucky enough to avoid it completely.

The other stallion's right hoof struck Ashamin with an amount of force that would have been easy to shrug off, if not for the magic behind the kick. The painted buck gritted his teeth as the stranger's kick pressed against the left edge of his chest and then followed the haruspex's forward motion, trailing off against Ashamin's shoulder on the same side. Like a strike-anywhere it dragged across the seer's flesh, leaving a trail of embers that first sparked outwards and then returned to speckle Ashamin's slowly forming, soft bruises with burnt patches and searing hurt. Their contact hadn't been enough to set the whole paint aflame, but it had been enough to warn him that there was magic inside his attacker, and magic he had to be wary of.

Ashamin spat, lips filling with froth as the pain crawled along his left shoulder and chest like fire ants bogged down by honey. His instinct was to slam against this stranger but he thought better of the idea at the last moment, realizing that to put any pressure on this newly aching side would only do him more harm.

What he needed was time--time to recover and escape the close-quarters this fight had been boxed into. Ashamin searched frantically for something to save him in the dark as he ran, trying to speed up and get ahead of or at least beside the other stallion. What he needed was to find Lochan and get out of there, but his companion wasn't going to be found so easily.

No, Lochan was the perceptive one. Lochan would find Ashamin.

And at the perfect moment, exactly when he was needed, Lochan burst forth from the underbrush and threw himself into the chaos of the fight. His eyes burned white through the shadow, and though he stumbled with the force of the wind and the whipping leaves tumbling from bamboo branches and onto his small figure, he had the tenacity to fight for his bonded. Lochan's strength was unique. Now and in the light, Ashamin had prayed for it.

The paint had no time to respond to his companion's arrival, but he let the sight of Lochan safe and sound propel him forward. Dark mists swirled from the cerndyr's budding antlers as he ran between Ashamin and the attacker, allowing the haruspex to peel away to his right and create the much needed distance that the conflict had been lacking. As Ashamin ran off he whipped his coil-covered tail above Lochan and towards the stranger, hoping to strike the shadow's likely rain-soaked hide with a flash of electricity.

As the painted buck ran and turned, slowed by the pain in his shoulder, he could barely make out his companion's small form in the wind. The place where Lochan had been was consumed by black mists--mists that rose and stretched towards the enemy, seeking to cloud and confuse. How fitting, the haruspex thought, that such power would reveal itself in the shadows of a storm. How strengthened he was by the sight of the mists twirling and spreading with menacing thickness--how glad he was that their pair was together again.