Lived unbruised,
we are friends; and I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

Sigh no more.

Ashamin wasn't happy when he knew that perhaps he had hurt her, but he was filled with a flush of pride. The haruspex was fighting the corporal, and he was fighting her well. He had outmaneuvered her with ease and now his attack struck exactly as he had hoped, clipping her front even as they both moved onward.

But even the clearing had to end somewhere. They were deep in the northernmost area, to the West and not far from where Ashamin had sparred with Zandora; he remembered the maze of trees well. Should they keep running as they were, the pair would surely hit them soon and draw the fight into closer quarters. Even without looking back, Ashamin knew the differences in their forms, the strengths they both had and lacked. He had memorized Ki'irha's tender blade-like edges, the angles of her warm blue form and how they had challenged his soft awkwardness upon their first meeting. Even if he was stronger now, she still held power over him that would prevail in the close quarters of that northwestern wood. They were well matched in speed, that much was clear since he had not managed to put much distance between them yet, so he would have to rely on endurance. The haruspex knew that as well trained as she was, he was built to last. It was painful, almost, how much his body clung to holding on even. He wished at times it would simply collapse.

But now, if he could just direct them away from those oncoming woods, he could keep the battle in his territory--keep working to his advantage. Ashamin flung his head and gaze back when the thundering of Ki'irha's hooves did not follow his own. He only had a moment to watch as her hooves came crashing down, and it was not a well-informed enough moment for him to prepare.

The ground beneath him shook as he tried to turn and face the warmer, lake-bearing South. In the split second when he stumbled, before he could recover and straighten himself, he thought of Ki'irha's response to his jest--her preference to waltz. Well, clearly she knew how to flourish in that department. Ashamin's ears flew back in surprise and concern when at last he was recomposed and realigned. His tail flew straight behind him and had helped him maintain his balance so he wouldn't fall completely on the earth, but she had caught him mid-turn and slowed him significantly. There was no time to recover--no way to avoid what came next.

Given that he had turned and stumbled, that she had kept running forward with such ease, he had inadvertently positioned his left side directly before her. Her crash and bite may have been aimed to where he had been (parallel) but as he struggled to outrun her oncoming shadow he knew whatever she had in store would still reach him. He had just lost too much time.

He could only watch and fell as his hindquarters crumpled towards the earth in the face of her strength and her teeth caught the base of his tail instead. Ashamin's long appendage was often a gift, but now as he flung it away and her teeth revealed pale blistering patches of emerging red, he felt as if it was only in the way. The impact of her front on his side bruised him too, but he was at least protected well enough by thick muscle and flesh on his flank. That was a pain he would feel soon, but for now it was more of an inconvenience as it pushed him towards the icy earth and forced him to waste time pulling himself back up into a balanced position.

Ashamin needed to get away from the mare--this was not a spar that he could win up close. If he wanted to prove himself, he needed to do it from a distance and with time. He reached out his magic to feel for her heartbeat and find, perhaps, what had hardened it so quickly in its tempo. Was she dancing to some internal beat, following a step that electricity pumped through her veins?

The haruspex listened as he stood looking North and past her, slightly on her left side. He listened as he attempted to recover the speed he had lost and run past her left, as he bucked haphazardly at her left hindquarters and let his injured tail cast sparks across the earth as--compromised at the base--it dragged awkwardly in his wake.

But even as he ran and winced at the pain of the bruise and bite, even as he faltered and feared, he still just hoped to hear her beating heart. He hoped, somehow, that it might match his own.

""