Ignorant to border lines, Wessex thinks that the island itself is the demarcation between herd and common land. She unknowingly trespasses, and for this, it seems she shall be thoroughly thrashed and punished. Well, that and her youthful hubris. Naivete and bravado do her no favors here as she sizes up her utterly unfamiliar opponent. While Ampere may have tested her mettle against stronger, larger, and equally prickly warriors, Wessex’s never fought a pegasus. After a day’s worth of travel, she is foolish enough to challenge a mare who is relatively fresh, well rested, and used to sand fighting. Not so smart, Wessex.

Thoroughly equipped for this expedition, Wessex carries her dagger and wears her leather armor. The linked, scale-like armor covers her back, ribs, shoulders, flanks, and clasps in four places: two across her chest, drawing the edges close, and two under her barrel. Neither heavy nor cumbersome, it provides a decent amount of defense against horn or blade attacks and affords Wessex a full range of motion, while leaving her neck and strong legs to move about freely. It also hides her glowing slashes, which might have been beneficial to her adversary in the dying light - betraying their bearer and her movements. However, as Ampere reveals both her name and intentions, Wessex’s dagger remains in place, not to be drawn unless her opponent should prove false.

“Wessex,” she replies when within yelling distance, officially greeting her challenger with a nod. From that distance, a smile is useless in the dying light. “Same here. Friendly fight,” she emphasizes when Ampere reveals a fancy, spring-loaded (it’s the only way she can describe it) spiked necklace. Jesus. Wessex’s eyes widen at the first inkling that she may be in over her head - but there is no time to contemplate her bad decision any further, as the dark, winged mare moves first.

Taken aback by the sudden start, Wessex’s hooves seem to sidestep in reflex and as a result, she stumbles in the loose sand, looking very much like an uncoordinated foal. Scrabbling around, she falls to her knees and by the time she catches herself, Ampere’s magic is well on its way to freezing her movements. She remembers the last time she sparred on a beach, cursing under her breath. Goddamn it, she should have been smarter than this!

Her legs suddenly begin to cease normal function, moving in short bursts that surprise her (again) and derail whatever progress she’s made in planning a normal attack. When she eventually becomes immobile, she is stuck with one leg half-way up, one knee still in the sand. Frozen while keeping an eye on her approaching opponent, even her face is useless, eyes left to simply stare at Ampere while she comes barreling towards Wessex, who screaming on the inside that this can’t be happening again! As she’d discovered with Rikyn, Wessex finds the theft of physical and mental autonomy to be the worst crime. Strike her with fire, electricity, or poison. Temporarily blind her, even, but do not take away her ability to control herself.

One thing goes right: her Moon Amulet activates, copying Ampere’s power and storing it for later use.

Make that two: in this downward position her ribs are a little out of range, but Ampere’s shoulder rams into her thigh just as Wessex is starting to regain motor function. The front edge of her meaty muscle takes the hit and she inhales audibly, growling out a vocal release of the pain shooting down her right hind leg. Thrusting upward with her forelegs, she rights herself and turns left to follow Ampere, grimacing as her muscle protests - unfortunately moving directly into the path of Ampere’s hooves, absorbing yet another attack in the very same muscle as the first. Double whammy.

Wessex screams, feeling the impact pulse through her entire hip, it seems. In the only retaliation she can muster, Wessex sends Ampere’s electrical ‘freezing’ power back at her, shattering the Moon Amulet. If Ampere gets too far away, that’s the end for Wessex; keep the pegasus close and the unicorn might stand a chance. Taking a breath to bury the pain, she pivots on her front legs and swings her big ‘ol ass around, trying to put as little weight on her right hind as possible. Horns dip down, aiming to thrust them into Ampere’s own left hind leg - the part she can get to through feathers. She then attempts to draw up along the wings to Ampere’s shoulder and prevent two things: flight, and the woman’s teeth and front hooves from striking out once she can move again, by using Wessex’s larger body and muscle mass as a wall.