The adrenaline flowing through her body helps numb the pain of her wounds slightly, but not enough. They're still pulsing like heartbeats against her skin, especially the cuts caused by her opponent's horns. The congealed blood has stained her grey pelt an ugly brown colour, rather than the splendid shade of vivid red that she'd hoped. Whilst it may seem churlish to be annoyed about the colour of one's wounds, it's just another reminder that battle is nowhere near as glamorous as Oizys had expected it to be. She'd expected her cuts to bleed beautiful crimson, and to not hurt that much. She'd expected all her blows to land heavily, causing her opponent untold pain. She'd expected it to feel glorious, exciting - easy.

Right now, it feels like none of those things. Her blood dries like a shit-stain, she's tired and grumpy and achy and not feeling in the least bit glamorous, and her excitement has faded away to be replaced by irritation because she can't seem to land a solid hit upon this slippery tobiano bitch. As for it being easy...fuck that. It's the hardest thing she's ever done.

Only one of her spark-eagles manages to find its mark, and Ker also comes up empty handed. Now the winged woman is up in the air, and the gargoyle's ears pin against her sweaty scalp as she frets about what the hell she's meant to do now. She could get Ker to dribble some blood into her mouth so she can transform into her, yet for unfathomable reasons, when she shifts into a bird she flies like a brick on drugs. No, if Weaver decides to stay up there, there's fuck all Oizys can do about it.

Hopefully the tobiano's honour will dictate for her to come back down and fight properly, but the stone soldier isn't banking on it.

Aware that Weaver's probably going to approach from behind, Oizys attempts to turn, but again she's too slow. Her only warning of the impending attack is Ker's mental screech of "DUCK!", and whilst she's not in the habit of listening to her feathered companion (indeed, she'd normally do the exact opposite out of spite), she doesn't think that Ker would lie to her. So she splays her legs and lowers herself, tucking her head downwards in case Weaver is going to try and kick her in the skull; she can't descend quite fast enough, though, and the tobiano's front hooves clatter into the right side of her rump due to her attempt at turning. Another bruise immediately bursts into life, equally as painful as the one on her neck, although the glancing nature of the blow prevents the bruise from being as deep as it could have been. "My ass!" bellows the gargoyle, despite her vow to not unleash any profanities during this fight. She just can't help it - it fucking hurts and nobody is getting fruity on her booty without her express permission.

Suddenly blinded by frustration, pain and a desire to enact revenge, Oizys folds her hind end beneath her, lowering as far as she can until her back legs are coiled like a spring. This movement causes Weaver's second kick to just miss its mark, and the stone soldier chooses that moment to strike; she explodes upwards into a tall rear, using every inch of contained energy in her bulky hindquarters and trying her best to ignore the spasm of agony from her newly-acquired bruise. Twisting as she rises, she seeks to crash her horns into Weaver's right hind leg in the immediate aftermath of the other mare's second kick, hoping to gore her twisted weapons deep into the limb to try and cause more than a scratch upon her foe's sacred hide. She's exhausted, sweating, hurting everywhere, but she's determined to land this last hit. Her final remaining ounce of honour tells her not to try and cripple her opponent, but she wants it to hurt all the same.

Ker descends once again, aiming her beak and claws for the cuts on Weaver's back end for a third time in an attempt to deepen their severity. She is frustrated like her bonded, and feels Oizys' pain as clearly as if it were her own. She, more than anybody, knows of the ambition that burns in the gargoyle's soul, knows how much winning this fight would mean to the giant young mare. It would be vindication of everything they've both worked towards, proof that their strong blood has translated to strong bodies.

The raptor is determined to do whatever she can to help her mind-partner, no matter the cost.

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Teaching spar for @Weaver !

3/3 - 772 words