The shock of his hooves solidly connecting with Alysanne’s side sent a grunt out from his lips as the impact travelled through his great body and jarred his cracked shoulder. Though, as his hind hooves landed in a splash of arctic water, he was quickly twisting his neck over his uninjured left shoulder to ensure that her shriek of pain did not originate from any serious injury. Navy eyes, swept the slender and piebald frame, finding neither blood nor other grievous injury apparent. But he did find the look upon Alysanne’s face; yes, it was pained from the impact of his gargantuan hooves— but it was also tortured. Apparently the light-heartedness of this spar was one-way.

“Alysanne, you are doing well,” his words are forced through metallic and stale blood in his hurt mouth. He was unused to encouraging an opponent to fight. He had trained, he had guided, he had pushed recruits— but never had he been faced with one whose attacks grew more and more reluctant, especially as they landed with such force and accuracy. Those landed attacks generally were encouragement in their own right.

Not for the Doctor. Briefly, black-rimmed ears pinned in frustration as he floundered for the words to rally the ebony and ivory woman. “I will be fine. You can fight,” his deep rumble cut words out for brevity, as the pain in his mouth grew more acute with each syllable. His forehand began to marginally follow his twisted neck, pivoting slightly back to the left and keeping his injured right scapula firmly away from any attack of the pegasus mare. The shallow water swirled around his front left fetlock as it absorbed all of his weight.

It was awkward, to be certain, being unable to place any weight on his right forelimb. The radiating pain from the cracked bone made his chest grow warm— hot even. But the dark and guilted look in her usually beautifully bright green eyes kept his magic, that deadly and molten elephant, at bay. The halfhearted swing of her right wing sailed past him, gentle zephyrs of wind soothing over his skin and belying the tender intentions beneath her attack. A frown creased his brows, even as his head attempted to drive his great horn through the air towards the tender and exposed underwing skin and joint.

Though, despite the directed nature of his attack, he tried to withhold the great power that coiled in the corded muscles of his thick neck. His Doctor would be busy healing himself after this spar, it would be unwise to gravely injure her now. Indeed, he realized as he took stock of injuries, the healer would have her work cut out for her to mend his wounds. Would that add to her guilt? Or would she feel accomplishment at being so successful in her attacks toward her King?

A look at her face told him the answer to such internal musings. There was very little victory to be found in this icy water.

A: 3/3
WC: 505
Damage Tracker: Severely bruised left jaw & bleeding gums; cracked right scapula;
Summary: Turns back left towards her, keeping right side away from her, and aims horn towards underside of wing/wing-joint. @Alysanne
Great fight, Sarah! <3