At her incredulous remark and backwards steps, he outright laughed, "The best teacher is experience, Alysanne.” The low rumble was amused, relieved even, at the prospect of a light-hearted spar. In his past life, he had found great pleasure in watching the new recruits— long of leg and lacking of muscle— bumble over themselves on the training grounds; only to, after a time, begin to find themselves and know their bodies. Finding their limits and pushing them, for their own survival and for those they fought alongside.

So, it was with familiar delight that he watched the hesitant and wary movements of the Moon Doctor. An ear flicked sideways, to her companion, wondering if he would assist his bonded in the spar. The King wouldn't mind, though he had yet to fight a companion since coming to Helovia.

Navy eyes watched her steps that sought to pass to his left and gain the upper edge against the location of the water. So he responded, his own thick columns of black and cream legs stepping forward and to his left, matching her small steps with his own, large ones. He remembered his fight with Nyx— how he had ended up slowed in the water. He didn’t want to that to happen again.

Unfortunately for the Elephant, his matching steps made what would have been a mere love-tap and brush of primary feathers into a hard crack of wing-bones against the left side of his head. A brief bout of lights crossed his vision as his jaw went numb momentarily, before leaping into a punishingly painful throb. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth as gums, bleeding from the impact, oozed. A low grunt escaped his nostrils— he always underestimated the power of pegasus wings. He had neither trained nor fought against them in Dorobo. And here, in Helovia, he had sparred against wings fewer times than he had hooves.

In the daze, his old training took over and he therefore missed the confused and lost look upon Alysanne's lovely, ebony face. He reared, angling his shoulders to his right, as massive weapons of ivory hooves struck out against the mare. Though there was a lack of force behind his blows, for this spar was about Alysanne’s discovery of how to use her body in attacks. His angled shoulders attempted to push her towards the water with his striking hooves; the water would slow down the lithe, smaller body of the winged mare.

He tried to open his mouth to speak, to give some kind of guidance, but the wound to his jaw prohibited the motion. So, instead, he merely spat a wad of blood from his black lips, letting the woman figure out just how her body reacted when attacked.

A: 1/3
WC: 463
Damage Tracker: Severely bruised left jaw & bleeding gums;
Summary: He matches her steps, her wing hits him solidly on the left side of his jaw, he rears and strikes out, trying to angle her into the water. @Alysanne