Today is a momentous one. Today is the day the gargoyle takes her first steps to warriorhood...and she is terrified.

With her breeding - daughter of two soldiers, an Ironheart and a Basilisk - she would have been forgiven for thinking that it's a foregone conclusion for her to be a whizz on the battlefield. If her lines are anything to go by, she will take to fighting like a duck to water, but life doesn't always work that way. Just because you should be good at something doesn't mean you will be, yet her family name hangs over her head like the reaper's scythe, weighing heavily upon her young shoulders. What if she fails? What if she blunders around, flailing like a dying fish, failing to land a single blow? Oh, she shudders to think of Father's wrath if he thought he'd sired a weakling! Then there's the added knowledge that her dam is probably in the skies watching over her with a reassuring, motherly smile on her lips, with fondness and pride glowing in those electric eyes. That, in a way, is even scarier than the thought of Father's ire, because Nyx died so she could live. Is being a failure any way to repay that?

So when she steps through the last dregs of snow and finds herself the perfect battlefield, she desperately tries to tell herself that she's shivering because of the unseasonable chilly night air, and not because she's shitting bricks at the notion of failing miserably in her first battle. Ker reassures her giant bonded as much as she can, twining her large beak around tendrils of jet black mane and cooing like a mother to her chicks. The raptor is eager to taste equine blood for the first time, to test her talons and beak in battle alongside her gargoyle bonded.

The young mare desperately tries to focus her attention on the task at hand - she's chosen the Basin as her first battlefield because she knows it well, and thinks it will be a safe bet whilst she blunders around trying to learn the ropes. There's a light dusting of snow around and the ground beneath her feet has a layer of black ice that could prove dangerous, but overall it strikes the inexperienced youngster as ideal conditions. Satisfied with her choice, the bulky grey unleashes a loud bellow for an opponent, her cry piercing the night air whilst her heartbeat hammers a steady rhythm in her chest.  

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Spar for @Weaver ! Set in the Aurora Basin on a chilly night, minimal snow around. Up to you about magic and companions ;D Feel free to have first attack!

0/3 - words