I am surprised to see that Azzaron rises precariously on back legs as I come to crash into his figure. What kind of an oaf believes they are safe on such an unbalanced pair of legs against the force of a propelled object as large as a full grown pegasus? I may be small, but I am far from insignificant. Miraculously, the golden brute manages to pull his form toward the left, while at the same time tossing his mouth toward my face. Instead of allowing him to bite at my deep colored eyes, I slam down with my right wing toward his moving face, trying to slap him with enough force to deter the bite, tucking my face toward the right, the snap of his teeth missing the mark and falling deftly on a shoulder. The change in distance allows for his mouth to be clogged with too much bulk to get a good grip, his jaws sliding from me and leaving a disgusting trail of spit and future bruise, but there was no chance at breaking my skin. I throw the chocolate limb with enough force to hopefully avoid his teeth being directed instead at the softer bones, if he can even move his neck that quickly in the short period of time it takes place. I smirk to myself as the actions occur swiftly, markedly amused by one would call themselves a warrior yet fight this horribly.

I may not be the largest, the most intimidating, or the scariest of opponents, but surely I am worth more than a toss of limbs with a fool such as this.

I do not return to the earth, nor do I stop. With just a slim drag on my momentum as my grey hooves skirt across the surface of the stallion's neck, I move forward, my wings driving forward. As I sail by, unrestrained by the earth below, I kick with force toward the fleeting face of my opponent who retreats toward the desert sands instead of joining me in the air above. Maybe one swift knock on his head would rearrange his brain enough to make him logical, but I really doubted sanity for this one ever being recovered. A pegasus who is fond of battle upon the ground is obviously deranged. Why would you forsake your genetic miracle for something any other equid could obtain moments after they fall from the womb?

I hear as I fly forward the sound of hooves churning the earth, a charge which would find me not within the bounds of his reach, but in the sky. Without hesitation, I tilt vertically upward, curving my flight. Up, up, and around, a circle made as I back-flip in the air, my dark eyes looking down with blind hatred upon the figure of gold and crimson as it chases my tail that escapes into the air, a graceful rear which lifts the stallion's body into the air, but not nearly high enough to reach me in the heavens. I carve the sky in a beautiful arc, coming back around, this time flying slightly right, to move my body back into a position to ram into the stallion from above once more, hopefully getting through his thick skull that I would not land upon the sand. Get off your ass and fight me properly in the sky, if you really think yourself worthy of being Sultan.

As he turns his weight back downward, I become more parallel with the ground, approaching from behind the stallion, at an angle from the right. As his rear end lifts from the ground, I send a jolt of wind from behind me, smiling with violent glee as I feel my speed increasing, my hooves extended before me yet again, but this time, I aim to hit him while his rump is expose to the air, cleanly hit him with enough force to knock him off his long legs and back into the red dirt. My hooves looking toward the hip, a sturdy target that would feel the force behind my attack and send the boy crumpling to the ground, if I am successful. Perhaps if I was not so pissed off about this fool trying to take my family from me, I would feel bad for attacking him at such a vulnerable point. However, he had entered on a suicide mission the moment his damaged brain formulated the thought of challenging me. Let us see if he can survive it.

[ WC: 775; 2/4; 0/2.
Wind magic used in this post is passive.
Buffs: Bulk and Swift. ]