mortuus nox

The Devil
Wants to make a Deal

His gray cold eyes watched the stag intently. The paint boiled and exploded with anger as he pushed past Mortuus. The muscled black stag did not take one step back. His hardened black body absorbed the shock as he felt his blood pressure rise. Then the paint spoke ‘A wager’, what an odd thing to come up with. All this would do is hurt Ashamin if he does not speak about it. Oh well let him fester with hate if he pleased. Mortuus flicked his ears back sharply as he was screamed at by the emotional paint. His teeth bared glowing against his onyx coat with a white glimmer. His stout body stood waiting for the stallion to come to a halt. His rumbling voice roared from his angered chest "If you want a wager you got one."

He first watched the stallion move away from him. Keen gray eyes picked up that the two stallions were about the same height, but there was a difference in build. Ashamin was built with a refined muscle tone. He had the slender appearance of an Arabian, but slightly bulked like a quarter horse. The paint was built for speed and endurance, not so much strength and agility. Mortuus on the other hand might be a bit slower, but his Andalusian body was built for war. His muscled body was not only strong, but his ability to maneuver his feet quickly added to his agility. He was ready for whatever Ashamin threw at him.

The pupils of his gold gray eyes dilated, all the hate came back to his cold heart. He picked up a heavy bounding gallop towards Ashamin’s body. The muscles under his scared pelt pulsed with every beat as he speed grew faster and faster. The demonic crown skull lowered so his maw touched his chest. Mortuus aimed his horns towards the paints right rib cage hoping to hit his mark. He hoped to cause a cracked or bruised rib by hitting him with so much force. Next the glimmer in his cold eyes took over as he felt the adrenaline rush through his body with a warm sensation. His collected body turned on his haunches to keep himself from slipping into the lake. Then his powerful rear legs faced Ashamins skull. With past memories flooding his mind he kicked out with frustration as hard as he could hoping to smack the stag in the cheek, or the neck. A grumble leaves his maw as he struck out. Mortuus glared out of the corner of his eyes with a crazed look. He was ready for anything Ashamin was going to throw at him. His troubled head shook as he darted forward in a powerful leap. His deep voice mumbled,"Keeping everything bottled up leads to self-destruction../color]

[color=#9a8a7c]"Talk."


Word count 465/800
Attack 1/3

Summary:

Mortuus watches Ashamin studying his body type before he attacks. Then he takes off with all his speed he can gain in the distance between them aiming his horns for Ashamins right ribs. Mortuus hopes to bruise or crack a rib with the power of his speed and horns. He then quickly turns left on his haunches with a powerful kick with his back legs aimed at Ashamins cheek. After he attacks, he takes a large leap away from Ashamin.