It was a dream. Surely it must be a dream. Why else would he be standing there on a flowering summer meadow with his body swept in brown cloth, form-fitted and restraining? It snagged as he moved, legs stretching awkwardly as he circled counter-clockwise around the black lady he never thought he would end up facing in a situation as humiliating as this. It covered his back, his chest, the belly and all four legs, from elbow to knees to hooves - it was itchy, warm, disgusting. A weight straddled between and around the ears, a strange contraption towering above his head - for what purpose he did not know, no more than he understood why he carried a branch between the teeth, carved into a simple curve and painted with red and white.

What he did know was that they were supposed to do battle. The thought was both troubling and interesting, and it was with great wariness that he regarded the shadow mare, the Dragon Heart who was so much more than just his queen. Had he ever reflected upon how strong she was? He had always been aware of the alluring sway of her hips, the velveteen softness of her coat and the lightness with which she walked, but not until now did he take notice of the supple, swelling muscles that danced beneath sleek skin. Whether in her normal shape or the draconian form that was her second (or true?) nature she had always made an impact on him, stood taller than him, made him aware of how flimsy the years of experience he carried were. This was a creature unlike any other, a mare unlike any he had ever met. And as he rocked forth into a steady canter, his heart ached as he knew he would have to try and beat her, one way or another.

The white dragon that circled above them in opposite direction of himself gave off an excited trill, and as if having waited on this starting signal Lace made a sudden leap in towards the mare, hoping to come at her from her right side as he swung the two-colored cane against her ribs. There was no true strength in the blow, because the soldier would always be loyal to his WeyrLeader. Never, in all the years he would live, was he going to try and truly harm the woman he loved. Never. Even this feeble tap took all determination he had; he almost wished that it wouldn't land.

Slamming his shoulder towards her flank was easier. Always tempted to step closer to her, his skin itched and ached in longing to feel her warm body press against it, like he had once before. Maybe he should have tried something else, a kick or a nip - not that he could with the stick in his mouth, goddamn it - or something to further his own chances... But the stallion found his thoughts empty, his tactics lacking and his only focus on the proximity of the only lady he would ever follow against his better judgment.

---

WC: 517
PC: 1/3

WEATHER - It's a nice clear and mildly sunny birdsong day, 10am.
SETTING - A grassy field that goes fetlock high, forgiving and not too wet. Some flowers and trees are around, a creek cuts through in one area near two trees.

Magic and companions allowed. Lace is wearing his Gingerbread Man costume with Top-hat and wields the Candy Cane.

Stats + Dice roll

@[Mirage]