As Gaucho’s hooves struck into Arrane’s soft belly, a sensation of pleasure wafted through the bay. Perhaps he should have been restraining himself a little more than he was; this was only a spar after all, and ought to be a friendly one, even if he didn’t know this stallion. Yet as the white stallion emitted a cry of pain, Gaucho could feel the blood lust welling inside of him. It was so hard to resist, and yet Gaucho knew that a well-timed blow could seriously injure this fellow. Gritting his teeth together, as if the clenching of his jaw would satisfy his need for flesh, he forced Arrane’s gasp of pain from his mind.

As Gaucho’s hind hooves struck the ground, only to be immediately re-deployed, the beast could tell that Arrane had been smart enough to move back at least a step, as the contact wasn’t as immediate as it could have been: But it was still there. Deliciously, he felt his hooves strike against the stallion’s neck, and down to his chest. The cry of pain only re-affirmed that Gaucho was not playing as nicely as he could be.

Out of the corner of his steely gaze, Gaucho saw movement as his hind-hooves once again touched back to the ground. In a whir of white amidst the sea of night-time hues, he perceived Arrane charging up his left side. As Gaucho raised an antlered brow, straightening himself from his bucking-position, he felt the stallion’s slender body slam into his. Given Gaucho’s height, build, and the addition of wings, he was far heavier than Arrane, and yet no so much so that having another stallion knock into him, didn’t cause an impact. With a grunt as the lungful of air within him was expelled, he felt Arrane’s body connect with his shoulder, causing him to take a step to the right to compensate for the momentum.

As Arrane swung his body around, making himself parallel with Gaucho, yet facing the opposite direction, the bay pinned his ears back angrily. He assumed the stallion was going to buck, or at least kick - why else point that lily-white ass in his face? Rearing up to avoid the legs that he felt would soon be flying, Gaucho twisted slightly in the air to the left, and leaned in, to try and slam his barrel into Arrane’s flank. It might have ended there - Gaucho might have simply let the stallion knock into him with retaliation; he was supposed to be going-easy, after all. But as he moved, he watched the arabian’s leg jut out, kicking where Gaucho’s knee had only been moments ago. Enraged, he threw more of his weight to the left, hoping to knock the stallion off balance given that he was already only on three legs. With a squeal of pain, Gaucho felt teeth digging into the flesh of his thigh, already sore from Arrane’s hooves, gripping hard enough to draw blood. Fuck it he thought - or whatever the primitive equivalent would be.

Feeling the stirring of his magic swell as his blood oozed, 3 spirit-wolves flowed from his antlers, circling around in the air they fanned around the front of Arrane, before finally touching the ground. Snarling, they snapped their jaws and barked eerie challenges as their ethereal bodies tensed. They moved closer to the white stallion, trying to block him from moving ahead with their bodies. As Gaucho’s body began to return to the ground from his rear, he tucked his chin in, hoping to scrape his antlers alongside the white stallions left stifle as he descended. Hooves back on the ground, Gaucho tried to shove into the stallion one last time, leading with his left shoulder, aiming to hit Arrane’s left flank. (Either hitting him or not..) Gaucho turned sharply to the right with a grunt of effort - his croup was sore from where Arrane’s hooves had scraped down, and his left hip already felt swollen and bruised from the bite. Trotting a circle to the right, Gaucho grunted, tossing his antlered head defiantly as he looked down at the white stallion, his steely gaze full of contempt due to the bite on his thigh.

As the commotion ceased, Gaucho noticed that he was not breathing as hard as he once had - all of his recent sparring had conditioned his body better than he had previously noticed. Sparring at night had been a pleasurable change of pace, as well. Curtly, he nodded to Arrane, nostrils flaring. "I am Gaucho." He mumbled, by way of introduction, and farewell.

[Summary - Steps to the right as Arrane knocks into him. He rears to avoid the kick he knows is coming, but takes the bit to the thigh, drawing blood. He uses his magic to call forth 3 wolves which stand in front of Arrane. Gaucho twists in midair to try and knock into Arrane, and tries to scrape his left flank on his way down. Shoulder-checking him one last time for good measure, Gaucho moves away.

Attack 2/2: Mid-air body check, antler scrape, spirit-wolves, and shoulder check. ]