Her fight with Note had been stimulating, but after a few day's rest to restore her aching muscles Aryel was at it again, searching for more horses willing to train with her. Crowley may have been an arrogant, cowardly bastard, but he was an arrogant, cowardly bastard that was bigger than her, had two dangerous jabbing horns, and no doubt had an ace up his metaphorical sleeve if he was finally willing to fight the blue mare. Some time before, she had propositioned Gaucho for a second fight between them. As in her previous spar with Note, she wanted to train herself to rely on her light hooves, dancing away from attacks instead of simply bracing her muscles and throwing herself into them. It was effective at times, but horses her size couldn't throw their weight around in a fight with impunity.

And so Gaucho had agreed to a rematch, and thankfully, it seemed that they wouldn't be fighting in the rain this time. A few clouds scudded across the bright blue sky, but otherwise it was a beautiful clear day. Aryel on a cliff overlooking the oasis in the distance, her wings shining dully in the sunlight as she half-spread them to let the wonderfully cool breeze cool her feathered limbs. She had opted not to spar in the canyon arena she had discovered, finding it a somewhat stupid thing to do when it was high noon. This area provided a good breeze, at least. The plateau rose high above the desert sands, it's flat top composed of red-orange rock. A sloping trail wound across one face of the cliff, but it was much more easily accessible from the air. A handful of palms and scrub clustered in one area, it was anybody's guess as to how they got up there in the first place. The thicket was now occupied by one juvenile fruit bat, happily sleeping in the shade of a palm. Keeping her pet on her back while fighting would be a pretty foolish thing to do. All in all, it was a perfect place for two pegasi to spar, giving them the opportunity to both fight on the ground and take to the skies with ease. Aryel looked out over the desert, then sent a high call on the air, letting Gaucho know the location of their fight. As she waited patiently, she reflected on the brute. She had yet to meet a horse who had such a weak grasp of their language and such a seemingly simple mind. He was also one of the most loyal horses she met, as well as one with notable rugged, almost handsome looks. She wrinkled her nose at the last thought. Where The hell had that come from? Mooning over stallions who didn't even think for themselves. Ridiculous. With a snort, she banished the thought and thought about Crowley's smug face instead. Any thoughts of masculine stallions were quickly banished by happy thoughts of sending the brindle crying for his mama.

(3 action posts each, no magic or companions. Setting is a large, roughly circular plateau with one trail up/down and a thicket of palms and scrub on the south edge.)

Walk walk walk walk.
"Talk talk talk talk."