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ARION pounds through the icy top layer of snow with determination and a face set on success. His muscles flex and release with the effort as his legs carry him across the frozen landscape. The stallion had always thought snow would be this wonderful, sticky substance. In his mind, one might be cold but they'd not have to worry about slippage and the subsequent battles on it would be amazing. But this stuff was downright difficult to gain consistent traction on. Sometimes, while he ran, he'd have a step which would enable him to push yards but the next moment he'd have a step that allowed him only a foot of travel. It was maddening.
When the sun had risen on the day after Arion's acceptance to his sister's herd so had his nerves. He was a seasoned fighter. He'd fought in the shallow ocean, on sand, and even rock was not unknown to the stud. However, snow was not a common find in Erithos. The problem? Oh, nothing, he was just going to need to conduct an introductory spar on this crap today...his first solid spar in months. Did one need any further explanation for Arion's powering his way through a late morning run? This philosopher's son was an adaptive beast though and each faltered step brought an increase in knowledge. Ok, don't step that way. Make sure to place your hoof this way and you won't slide. Oh! Turns are far more exhilarating with a little slide! The stallion relishes in this new learning experience. A time passed but, soon enough, the growing warmth of his pelt against the chill air let him know a break from his exertions was in order. A satisfied smile spreads over his masculine features as he exclaims "Excelsior!" to the birds in the sky.
His breath was quickly caught in a few minutes but so was his solitary satisfaction. The stallion's comfortable walk was paused by a black spot up ahead. The spot moved, ominously, so the stallion displayed glory of his muscular Spanish and Arabian heritage for the newcomer; his neck was beautifully arched and his tail held high. When the two are finally close enough to hear each other Nox introduces himself and some of Arion's show dissipates. "Ahh, a fellow herdmate. Good day, Dr. Nox. I am Arion, new to the Basin, and currently a soldier. I would give me great pleasure to engage in a friendly spar, sir."
Honor and confidence were the only things visible on the outside but, internally, he was a tangle of nerves again. The stallion was no dolt and was well aware of the fact that the outcome of this fight would be reported to General Erebos and the monarchs. Not that he could complain about this matchup. The black stallion before him was as good an opponent as he could have hoped for. Nox was clearly a more pure Spaniard than himself but his height was just about the same from what Arion could tell. The scarred creature was probably going to be more agile but Arion was more in shape which would hopefully give him the upper hand in endurance. Granted, anything could happen on the battlefield.
"Anything" was precisely what happened next. The doctor lowered his head and began a charge set on blunt impact with his backwards facing horns. Arion bemoaned his lack of immediate adaptability on footing like this. He was going to have to take the hit in some manner. Suddenly, Arion's head to tilts sideways in amusement. How, precisely, did someone with backwards facing horns not account for their opponent's forwards facing one? Surely, he hadn't missed Arion's polished and sharpened horn. Perhaps he was assuming the risk of serious slice-age in the hopes of bruising some ribs. Well, too bad for him. Arion might not be able to fully evade this attack but he could alter it a bit to reduce the lasting damage.
The earthen stallion turns to face his opponent, bracing for the attack with his left shoulder and lowering his horn. When the stallion gets close Arion leans back, coiling himself, and then thrusts his left shoulder forward, into the attack, just as Nox reaches him. With his horn lowered and his movement forward, Arion hopes to force his opponent's spine to take some of the impact from the charge as well as allow him a solid slice or two at the other stallion's left shoulder area. Oh, and how he hoped this method would pay off because, though he was in less pain than if he'd been hit on his ribs, it still felt like he'd been hit by a bloody boulder. Here's to hoping that his kitchen knife could do more damage than Nox's frying pan.
"Word."
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They Say Newcomers Have a Certain Smell
