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Faelene might have it easier than her comrade. More controlled fights with her fellow Unicorns, than taking it first hand with an opponent she wanted to see withering in pain. For her there was the familiar sense to test without hate, without a dark attempt for scores of blood and pain. It had been awhile for her since she had attacked with every fiber of her being seeking harm, and torture because of hate, and contempt. With these spars there was always a bit of mixed emotions. If she could mark her partner, giving them smaller grievances than she could take on an opponent who really meant her harm. That idea formed glee, pride for striking, but the same time distress for marring the skin and flesh. Since they had their doctor, it might ease her mind, but it did not. Faelene never cared to deal out grief, especially without reason and even then it depended. Since the General wasn't a paper doll she wasn't as conflicted as she could have been. Still, it never occurred to her he might not have volunteered himself in this way. How dangerous was it? There was nothing stealing her breath, but the force of her movements. A piece of her mind might hunger for how he did remain in control, it was a question hung in the back of her head. Deimos though deadly didn't strike her as the sole keeper of death and demise, and yet he came damn close. There were deep cords of fear lingering in her heart, seeing the gleam from his own horn, imagining what it would be like striking through her. Then there were the brooding eyes like the menacing depths of the ocean that called to take you deep and fill your lungs.
When she was in the tight proximity, felt the clip of her hooves graze off his left knee, how swift he had made his own move. Her teeth had found a place atop the gray crest, but it was short lived. There is nothing to hold, and she doesn't try. She might regret it later, but his head moving down, he was coming at her. The idea of toppling over called the magic inside, but she had no time to create a barrier. He carried more weight than her, and his shoulder struck at the right side of her chest, causing her to briefly lose her balance. So as her front hooves fall, the right clips off the side of the hard hoof wall, sliding into the thick grass.There was no sudden relief, Faelene already knows his snaking muzzle is coming, and instinctively she cast her right leg back up to shield off the own draw of his teeth. She failed, and felt the sudden sting, the nasty, needle piercing of his incisors. Short squeal burst from her lips, and she didn't hesitate to pull her knee higher, her hoof uncurling and launching she hopes at his forearm. She then reaches down with her mouth for a taste of his neck again if it would be in reach.
[Word Count:518]
[Attack:3/3]
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![[Image: faeleneicon.png]](http://i800.photobucket.com/albums/yy285/schwartze_asylum/faeleneicon.png)
