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04-19-2017, 10:53 AM
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isopia
The words which floated across the prismatic field were not the gruff response of a warrior, as Isopia had assumed that they would be, but something more akin to the sing-song lilt of a minstrel. She turned immediately towards the handsome figure of Reichenbach, a stallion she'd never met, though one she was almost sure she passed by during that bizarre night in the grove during all those random pairings. Isopia held no pretense of honour during spars, like the Gaucho's of the world once did. Others might have precluded the use of wings or horns if their opponents had none, and forced themselves into a handicap to even the playing field. Isopia held herself to no such standards. It was Hubris and Babel's choice to sit on the sidelines (presumably because Hubris didn't much care for battle, and Babel was still too young), but Isopia felt no need to lessen herself just to raise her opponent's chances of besting her. And so, as he raced across the fields towards her, muscles rippling luxuriously beneath the sun and his multi-hued coat, Isopia simply took to the air. Although Reich's long strides pulled him towards her efficiently, there was more than enough distance between the two for Isopia to take a few swift steps in his direction and lunge into the air. Her cape fluttered like a crimson third wing behind her as she sailed effortlessly above him. Her 'flight' was more like an elongated jump as Isopia angled her long and slender body in an arc, so as to land only a handful of feet behind where Reich had lunged towards her. Spinning on her long legs, she spun around to face him. For all the social cues that Isopia was ignorant of, she was clever enough to have picked up on the fact that most stallions don't usually like being so easily evaded. Then again, perhaps Reichenbach shouldn't be categorized with most stallions. After all, most stallions didn't have such a lovely voice. Not the ones she associated with anyways. "I suppose that wasn't entirely fair of me." She called out to him, her voice sterile and academic; a dissonant harmony to his melodic one. Reaching into herself to the spring of magic that bubbled inside of her bones, Isopia created a dragon out of the earth before her. It was only about the size of a small dog, but it flew on granite wings towards the warrior, aiming to impact the left side of his shoulder. wahhh sorry for the bad luck roll ;-; WC: 418 Attack: 1/3 Setting: Heavenly Fields around noon. |
