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02-14-2013, 08:05 PM
Lips curved in a smirk as the sound of coughing filled her ears. The smoke burned her own lungs, but it was her smoke, earned quite literately by fire all those years ago, and she was quite accustomed to its effects. So she didn't cough, and barely needed to squint against the pervasiveness of the tendrils that wreathed their bodies.
Her hooves beat against his flesh, once, twice, and she sensed his swerve away from the shifting of the air and the movement of the smoke upon it. But she was already dropping, teeth meeting nothing but air as her forehooves touched the ground and pulled her body forward. His haunches surged against hers even as she moved away, the back of his legs shoving against her left hind. It threw off her stride, having that leg pushed into her and up, straining muscles that protested sharply at the unusual movement. Her white-edged ears swept back sharply in irritation, knowing how very close she'd come to pulling a muscle and putting herself at a disadvantage. But it was tremendously satisfying to feel her hoof make contact, however brief, upon the stallion's side.
Moments later they stood across from one another, the air clearing around Destrier with only a few lurking tendrils of smoke to show for the flurry of movement it had previously hidden. Wary, distrustful, she watched him as his features became concentrated. And then the air began to heat, rapidly rising from the comfortable temperatures of the Edge and reaching, perhaps surpassing, the dry heat of the Throat. Surprised, Smoke grunted as the hot air scorched and dried her throat, making breathing quickly very uncomfortable.
It distracted her from Destrier's approach, lending him the opportunity to race toward her with greedy enthusiasm for the opportunity to strike back at her. Vaguely it crossed her mind that it appeared she had a knack for riling up stallions in battle.
The stallion's slowing was his first mistake. Her gaze narrowed as she became aware that his approach was not going to end in a driving shove. Fool to not use his size to advantage while I'm distracted. Before he came to a full halt and before his body could climb toward the sky with the intent to use her as a meaty ladder, she flung herself into a roll-back to the right. Each breath was a screaming torture, echoed by muscles in her left hind that rose in protest again at the sudden use after their abuse just moments later.
It was a pretty manuever that quite effectively spun her out of reach of the cocky revenge aimed at her with flashing forehooves. But she wasn't going to leave Destrier without a surprise gift, oh no. A thought prompted a shriek from above. In an equally pretty manuever Zaffre performed a wing-over that flashed sapphire in the air before dropping at the black stallion's head. Jaws of pale white-blue and dark midnight-blue parted as the sleek dragon flared his wings after the steep plummet. Broad leathery sails grabbed the super-heated thermals provided by the stallion, and dragon-fire rained down on him instead.
Easy trotting steps, interspersed by dry hacking coughs against the hot air that so rudely invaded her system, carried Smoke in an arc away from Destrier. None of his strikes would land upon her flesh this time, for his foolish forgetfulness of her greater agility had left him standing and lashing empty air while Zaffre struck from above. And her steps carried her away well before he planned to drop and mimic her buck-and-retreat. The grulla was disgusted by his amatuer tactics. For a stallion so liberally scarred and so near her own age, she had expected more. "Is that -cough- all you have?" She mocked him, mind reaching out in wordless welcome to the blue dragon that had swept over to her and now danced on the slowly cooling air above her head.
(( 656 words, 2/2 magic/companion uses
Is satisfied to feel her hooves hit flesh during rear, only mildly affected by the smoke clouds (is what happens when you have your magic for five years), shoved by Destrier's buck, strains muscles in left hind. Affected and irritated by hot air, distracted until Destrier slows in his approach. Performs roll-back to the right and gets out of the way of his rear. Zaffre dives at Destrier's head, makes use of heated air to catch himself from his dive just before breathing fire over Destrier's rearing body. Smoke trots out of reach of the last buck, still dealing with the hot air, and mocks Destrier while Zaffre flies over to her.))
Her hooves beat against his flesh, once, twice, and she sensed his swerve away from the shifting of the air and the movement of the smoke upon it. But she was already dropping, teeth meeting nothing but air as her forehooves touched the ground and pulled her body forward. His haunches surged against hers even as she moved away, the back of his legs shoving against her left hind. It threw off her stride, having that leg pushed into her and up, straining muscles that protested sharply at the unusual movement. Her white-edged ears swept back sharply in irritation, knowing how very close she'd come to pulling a muscle and putting herself at a disadvantage. But it was tremendously satisfying to feel her hoof make contact, however brief, upon the stallion's side.
Moments later they stood across from one another, the air clearing around Destrier with only a few lurking tendrils of smoke to show for the flurry of movement it had previously hidden. Wary, distrustful, she watched him as his features became concentrated. And then the air began to heat, rapidly rising from the comfortable temperatures of the Edge and reaching, perhaps surpassing, the dry heat of the Throat. Surprised, Smoke grunted as the hot air scorched and dried her throat, making breathing quickly very uncomfortable.
It distracted her from Destrier's approach, lending him the opportunity to race toward her with greedy enthusiasm for the opportunity to strike back at her. Vaguely it crossed her mind that it appeared she had a knack for riling up stallions in battle.
The stallion's slowing was his first mistake. Her gaze narrowed as she became aware that his approach was not going to end in a driving shove. Fool to not use his size to advantage while I'm distracted. Before he came to a full halt and before his body could climb toward the sky with the intent to use her as a meaty ladder, she flung herself into a roll-back to the right. Each breath was a screaming torture, echoed by muscles in her left hind that rose in protest again at the sudden use after their abuse just moments later.
It was a pretty manuever that quite effectively spun her out of reach of the cocky revenge aimed at her with flashing forehooves. But she wasn't going to leave Destrier without a surprise gift, oh no. A thought prompted a shriek from above. In an equally pretty manuever Zaffre performed a wing-over that flashed sapphire in the air before dropping at the black stallion's head. Jaws of pale white-blue and dark midnight-blue parted as the sleek dragon flared his wings after the steep plummet. Broad leathery sails grabbed the super-heated thermals provided by the stallion, and dragon-fire rained down on him instead.
Easy trotting steps, interspersed by dry hacking coughs against the hot air that so rudely invaded her system, carried Smoke in an arc away from Destrier. None of his strikes would land upon her flesh this time, for his foolish forgetfulness of her greater agility had left him standing and lashing empty air while Zaffre struck from above. And her steps carried her away well before he planned to drop and mimic her buck-and-retreat. The grulla was disgusted by his amatuer tactics. For a stallion so liberally scarred and so near her own age, she had expected more. "Is that -cough- all you have?" She mocked him, mind reaching out in wordless welcome to the blue dragon that had swept over to her and now danced on the slowly cooling air above her head.
(( 656 words, 2/2 magic/companion uses
Is satisfied to feel her hooves hit flesh during rear, only mildly affected by the smoke clouds (is what happens when you have your magic for five years), shoved by Destrier's buck, strains muscles in left hind. Affected and irritated by hot air, distracted until Destrier slows in his approach. Performs roll-back to the right and gets out of the way of his rear. Zaffre dives at Destrier's head, makes use of heated air to catch himself from his dive just before breathing fire over Destrier's rearing body. Smoke trots out of reach of the last buck, still dealing with the hot air, and mocks Destrier while Zaffre flies over to her.))
