The sound of flesh against flesh, hoof scraping along the brutish muscle of a stallion, the shoulder. I feel the jar of solid weight hit against my own force, and I smile. I had been born a mare, which many in my former home had thought a place of weakness for one in battle. The male body, naturally more coiled with musculature, was stronger. However, long hours of practice and discipline covered the difference now. What beautiful fury my legs could unleash. What power lived in the extension of my limbs when in battle. I am no man, but a lady who is more determined and just as strong. I hope, if Levi ever had doubts against me, that this kick is enough to correct them.

I stream forth from the kick, using the push of his body to sail me forward, wings tucked tight to my sides to avoid collision with any stray limbs flying from the silver figure of Levi. My sleek figure stretches out, chocolate wings slapping the air like a mast upon a ship, once I am fairly certain I have cleared the expanse of his right wing, confused slightly by my lack of contact with soft down, but perhaps my Sergeant is good for more than just his title. Up and up sail, the wind catching my mane and twisting it in its gentle fingers as I soar, my ears tilted back to listen to the flap of familiar wings.

My stocky figure is agile and limber in the air, but the difference of length from tip to tip of my wings screws me out of the speed advantage when compared to Levi. His build was heavy from the draft of wars as well, but the mass of feathers which carry him now allow for a swift uptake of our distance, though I surely hope I gave him a work out in the process. It is not long before the brush of air from another's wings is felt on my rump, and I even my flight to a more horizontal and level pattern, my ascent to the thin airs of the heavens stopped. With the sun dying upon the horizon, stars begin to shine their tiny lights upon us as the world below turns a blood red. The night is approaching, but this battle is not ending with the day.

The cut of wings as Levi approaches my right side, and I glance over at him with a grin tearing across my features, masculine and sharp. It is then I see him dip, downward, air pulling him under. With a snort of gleeful surprise, I curve my own wings, only upward. I almost mimic his movements, only instead of sailing downward, I fly up and to the left, a wave rolling up a wall of dramatic sunset, though I am not entirely fast enough to evade the quick draw of Levi's hooves. They pelt the tips of my fleeing right wing, the force dulled and pain unremarkable, though I jitter slightly in my ascent as I roll upward, belly greeting the twinkle of starlight for a moment before I smoothly carve the wind back downward. Had there been lights to hover in our trails, Levi and I would have made a lovely "8" in the air. As he shifts left to try to regain his original position, I continue to slide down the slope of my roll, throwing my wings up to avoid their collision with his figure, though I cannot promise what may happen to his.

I allow the bulk of my body to swing down toward his right side, the left side of my barrel gaining momentum with the downward stroke of my flight, aided by gravity and the thin air of high altitude. I am hoping that in the confusion of his attack, he would not suspect my bold toss of my body. I stretch out my neck toward the left, aiming to bite at the right side of his neck, for even in the air the disparity of our height and length damns me. Perhaps, if I were to visit a God once more, I would request my state be raised and stretched just a little bit. Perhaps, just perhaps, then idiots would stop questioning my authority. Perhaps then, I would not have to kick so many useless equines in the ass.

One can only dream, I suppose.
""

[ WC: 736; 2/2; BULK and DANCE. ]