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The dark stallion’s eyes sparkled with malice; with a twisted cruelty that was both alien and frightening to Africa. Though enchanting and quite beautiful, the ravenous rage within their azure depths haunted her as she hobbled away from him in an attempt to evade further harm. As she staggered far left of Sinuhe and the bay mare, who both appeared to be locked in churning combat, the reality of the situation gripped her pounding heart. Ice-laced wind swept in punishing flurries against the aggrieved droop of her ashen face, her neck crooked and slightly off centre with the twinging bursts of pain that ricocheted from her hindquarters up the length of her flinching spine with each harassed step. Innocence and inexperience would be the downfall of the foolish, though otherwise undeserving creature of the air, who had trustingly and chivalrously followed the newest of her oblivious herd into the burning pit of hell.
The bruised nerves in her left knee were annulled by the throb of rushing blood through the bleeding lesion straddling her muscular left shoulder. It ached terribly, and the hurting tarnished the purity of her gentle mind with loathing and resentment (loathing for these foul, detestable horned creatures whose nature was bloodthirsty and violent; and resentment that she had been imprudent enough to have been dragged to the very centre of their quarrel). Africa promised herself in that moment of half-liberation, that she would avoid the likes of them from this point forward- if in fact she should be fortunate enough to escape their passionate wrath altogether.
Though she could bear near-normal weight across her knee again, when leaning into each left step, her balance was skewed and her direction abruptly forced to the right as she tried in vain to escape the shadowing pain in her prickling shoulder- worsened all the more by the biting cold temperature embracing her. It was confusing and debilitating for one who had never known the mortal truths of battle. Furthermore, the gash which sank shallowly beneath the torn flesh across the right side of her croup was spewing blood; throbbing wickedly. Each muscle contraction forced the hot liquid to pool, then overflow with each rocking movement forward. She kicked outwards to the right once, twice shaking the limb below to try to free it of the unpleasantly pinching sting. It was useless...
With her neck swaying dizzily right, Africa’s teary right eye widened in horror as the dark blurring form of the still pursuing stallion pulled up tightly against her right side, both crowding her maimed body and her spinning mind. Naturally she braced, fighting successfully with the aid of coursing adrenaline, the vivid ache as she stiffened her weary legs to resist his domineering shove. His shoulder planted into her barrel, just behind her elbow and she leaned brashly into the attack. She was moved a little by his relatively equal mass- he was a stallion, burlier perhaps and athletic, but the advantage was just manageable.
Africa struck left with the same hoof, an instantaneous action that allowed her balance to be retained. In the same moment, her long neck snaked around to the right, and open, bared teeth aimed with unhinged, perverted viciousness at his gleaming blue, left eye- it was an obvious target, certainly the most visible part of him aside from the shiny blue tip of his horn (but that should have been beyond her now, wielding far ahead to the right). Black-rimmed ears were pinned tightly against the flailing chaos of her windblown mane; a stark protest to his relentless persecution against her, and her expression was defensively riled in bitter response.
The monster’s putrid, hot and sweating body did not linger and the cold swarmed when the gap reopened by his pitch away to the right. She followed aggressively, flanking his turn as closely as her demented manoeuvrability could manage. Numbed and distracted by the sudden surge of fury, Africa curled her neck towards him again as his hindquarters lifted in assault, aiming one, two bites in rapid succession along the exposed line of his lifting belly. Her focus was as close to the stretched out skin of his flank as she could manage before the power-packed thrust of his airborne left hoof grazed across the frontal swell of her blood-soaked, bunched right gaskin. The impact was not as fierce as the previous nature of her injuries; she was apparently better positioned- though not at all deliberately. The friction of the hard, sharp edge of his hoof as it slid across the taught gathered muscle’s perimeter was bruising only- and that affect was minimal and easily disregarded as Africa struggled to flank his movements.
He was not injured though, and the young Pegasus’s brave chase would more than likely have been a futile effort.
Post: 3/4
Word Count: 800
Summary: Africa spots Deimos pulling alongside to the right and braces against his shove; she aims a bite towards his left eye in the same moment. As he plunges right, she attempts to follow closely and aims two bites towards his lower flank. His kicking left hind hoof grazes her right gaskin.
"Thinking. Speaking. Acting."
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![[Image: 515b833f251f3]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/515b833f251f3)
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Come not within the measure of my wrath. [Sinuhe & Africa Challenge]
