Enthusiasm accelerated the speed of the dark stallion's heart beats as a call echoing his sentiments was returned to his eagerly awaiting ears. The grin upon his façade only broadened as the steed who came into view was one he found himself recognising - he was glad to know it was a stallion he had been fighting for and not against at the time. Memories rushed through his mind as he placed the silver grulla and his pale dragon, vaguely recalling the stallion having taken on an injury that had left him immobile for some of the battle, while his dragon defended him and fought in his stead. It was admirable, the devotion shared between them. Azzuen had been preoccupied with chasing down a certain goat-sized opponent then, the most he could recall from the encounter was a dash of white scales and scorching flames.

He had hoped for a friendly spar, and was glad to see the seasoned warrior, an ally, as his opponent. He didn't toss his spear aside, but made a mental note to only use the blunt, wooden end of it, so that he could strike as hard as possible against Lace, and only give the stallion some parting bruises in remembrance of this spar.

The General took silent, mental notes as the grulla approached, absorbing the differences in stature and physique. They weren't totally different, though their breeding obviously leant them varying conformation. Azzuen, being the mutt he was, seemed to be stockier, thicker and perhaps a bit bulkier in muscle. This didn't mean much, as winter had had its effects on everyone - though he had spent most of it in the comfortable climate of the Dragon's Throat. It meant his coat was already shorter, meaning it took longer for him to become sweaty under the Spring-time Sun, meaning he felt the cool breeze all the more sensitively as he was more accustomed to warm, desert-sand breezes. If anything, it made him more alert, more on edge, more ready to take whatever his opponent had to give.

Azzuen nodded a small nod of his crown as the stallion introduced himself, murmuring his own name in response. "Azzuen." he did not waste his breath with any further utterings, however, as Lace was in action. Instinctively Azzuen bowed his crown down, much like a cutting horse when turning to chase a cow, except the move instead allowed him to miss the flailing hooves that waved so dangerously at him. He bowed down to the right, so that he was standing less face-to-face with Lace, rather, his left shoulder was now nearest to the grulla. Azzuen angled his wing upwards, not wanting to inflict damage upon the joint crucial to his ability to fly. The feathers splayed high in the air, and did little but perhaps obscure the other's vision.

With the wooden end of his spear, he wasted no further moments in then striking at the stallion's left side, just behind his shoulder. With Lace coming down from his rear, the angle was awkward. It might catch on the slightly loose skin just behind his elbow, or else give a hefty bruise upon the soft flesh just behind his shoulder blade, before the ribcage began. Azzuen was as precise as he could be with his strike, the spear was like and extension of his own body, he knew how it worked, how to use it best, and what areas were most prone to receiving maximal damage with minimal effort.

His own ears mimicked Lace's during the move, becoming lost amongst the thick mess that was his forelock and mane. After he struck out with the blunt end of his spear, he lifted his muzzle, and re-angled his wing to be lower, more to his side - by this time Lace was presumably on his way down from his rear, closer to the ground, so they were on slightly more even ground. The dark steed now used the bony edge of his wing to wrap around the underside of Lace's neck. The wing itself was incapable of choking or otherwise pommeling the stallion from this angle, so Azzuen swiftly used his weight to push into the stallion. If he was lucky, he might have caught Lace while he was still recovering his balance, and he would be able to simply knock him further off balance, and otherwise assert his dominance in this spar.


[ 735 words.
Azzuen dodges the rear by bowing down and to the left, before surging forward with the blunt end of his spear, aiming for just behind Lace's shoulder area. As he stood up higher, he wrapped the bony edge of his wing around the underside of Lace's neck and pushed into him, trying to tip him off balance. ]

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