The one who approaches is not fully horse, that much is apparent.

The goliath recognises her, from the God fights and from the recent sea-creature-frolic-fest with a magical orb as the prize. The fact she's armoured, scaled, ignites delight in his soul, not to mention a slight twitch of desire in his loins. She is attractive, in a savage sort of way, but mostly his interest lingers on how different she is to his usual opponents. He has not yet fought a foe dressed in armour, and whilst her skin is not made of conventional defensive materials such as steel or iron, it does look far harder than the soft flesh of a native Helovian. His muscles bulge in delight as he admires her, devours her with the penetrating red of his gaze, thrilled at the opportunity to test himself against something different. That's what keeps the young warlord on his toes - fighting anything and everything in his path, to ensure he is vastly experienced before he takes a throne.

She may be a woman, but he knows better than to underestimate her. His assessment of her is different, to say the least, as his ravenous gaze scans every segment of her body. She is about a hand shorter than him, and his strength and bulk are undoubtedly superior; his somewhat lacking agility shouldn't be too much of an issue here either, as their wide, open battleground means that nimble twists and turns are not a necessity. The thin, reflective sheen of water upon the ground could prove slippy, however, and that's where she may hold the advantage - her aquatic appearance makes the stallion suspect she's used to such conditions. Her webbed - webbed?! - hooves will give her feet a good surface area, maximising grip and lessening her chances of sinking into the sand.

Overall, he feels it a decently-matched fight, one he's eager to proceed with. When she speaks, he catches a glimpse of wicked fangs, and his own grin turns wolfish. Those teeth will hurt, should they connect with his flesh; his muscles quiver with anticipation.

He fucking loves a challenge, and this fish-faced mare poses one that's different to anything he has had to conquer before. But conquer he intends to.

His dragons circle and hiss, asking their master if they may be involved. Generally, he forbids them from aiding him in spars against women, as what kind of man is he if he relies on them for victory?! But he tells them neither yes or no; he will see how the battle pans out first. They scream their delight, especially Vadir, who has not yet had the pleasure of helping her bonded take down a foe. "I did," he rumbles in response to the woman's question, which she follows with something he cannot understand. Then, she's charging. Then, they're fighting. Euphoria erupts, and his heart soars as high as his dragons at the prospect of partaking in his second favourite activity.

She swings, and suddenly he sees nothing but hooves. He throws his weight to his right, causing her feet to just miss their target, but her spiked bludgeon of a tail whistles across his lower jaw and leaves bloody furrows in its destructive wake. The damage is only fairly light; surface-level scratches, but they sting and smart with a fierce determination. Crimson trickles down his chin, little rivulets of pain.

The behemoth laughs, gleeful. Ah, battle.

He throws his colossal body forwards, aiming to run parallel with her; his left side to her right side, given he's coming from behind her. His lips peel and his teeth ache to bite her, but he doesn't know how effective such an attack will be against her pebbled skin. He chooses instead to swing his colossal hindquarters to his left, aiming to slam his left flank into her right flank, attempting to barge her over to her left and badly unbalance her. He also hopes this will keep him out of range of her vicious tail, her unique and deadly weapon.

Despite his misgivings, his natural desire to bite gets the better of him. His head swings left and down, aiming to nip the mare's right wither; he puts enough force behind the attack to hopefully hurt, but not so much that he'll shatter his teeth if her skin is as hard as he suspects.

Volterra has always had a tendency to use his mouth to investigate new things. Admittedly those things don't usually include blue-striped fish-mares, but old habits die hard.

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Teaching spar for @Aquila !

Teaching notes below :D

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