Boom--got ‘eem. I felt my hooves hit flesh and I heard the breath literally whoosh out of her, and the hot throb from my blood was the garish, savage response to it. Fuck with me if you wanna. And even though I hated it, there was still the brutish hope that I’d at least made her teeth click.

The fight still flowed on, and there was no stopping us; it was like a tide pulling us through the motions--we’d lost the control of it, the decision of it, and now all of it was just it’s natural response. She stomped down on me, catching me right on the quarter that was already bruised and throbbing--and she did it not because she chose to, but because it was the natural thing to do. And I growled and stumbled in my step, not out of anger--it was just what you did when you got beat the fuck up like that. I lurched forward even on a leg that was pulsing with deep muscle pain cuz I knew I was open for another hit, what with the way she was angled around me; I scrambled away, just in time to feel the air whoosh from hooves that she’d thrown at me. Just missing them.

I snorted and angled myself towards her, my ears pinned as I watched her face me in turn. It didn’t occur to me that we were getting towards the end of our spar. I’d forgotten my duty in calling her here and the anger that’d inspired the first hit; at this point my blood was boiling too much from the sheer excitement and frustration, and now she was looking at me and there it was, that same fever that was pounding in my chest, and it felt like a great rusty coil was poised to spring inside me as I lowered my horn, my body bunched to charge at her despite the sting from my throat, the throb on my elbow, and the growing pain in my leg. With a snort, I dug into the ground, launching myself straight at her, aiming my horn right at--

Can’t talk.

Wha--I’d already started moving, so the skidding stop was super awkward and did nothing to help the flashing heat in my right asscheek. The HELL are you talking about? I asked, furious with Cheek, cuz even though my body understood his words by some instinct, my head was still too lost in the sauce to catch up. I was just wondering why the hell he’d said something to me to break my concentration like that.

Her, can’t talk, he explained again from where he was. I couldn’t see him; I was still seeing red, and I looked around wildly until my eyes rested on her, my breath heavy as I narrowed my eyes to look at her closely. Can’t talk? What the hell did he--


---

WC:484
3/3
1/1

Lovely fight my friend! Continuation here!

"In ornare vitae leo eu volutpat."
I like it when you call me Big Poppa.