From the dawn of time, to the end of days I will have to run, away I want to feel the pain, and the bitter taste Of the blood on my lips, again [OOC: Paladin is challenging Gossamer for lead of the Foothills. 800 word limit as stated in the rules. No paragraph rules. 4 attack posts and closing defense. This is held in the Foothills at the tail end of summer. Time of day is evening when it's just starting to cool off, but the sun is still higher in the sky. Magic/Dragons permitted according to rules. Paladin also has buffs "endure", "swift", and "bulk". I, Tamme, would be happy to make this a teaching spar too, if you want, Illu. ] Paladin had taken his time in regaining his strength and healing from his wounds. The shades had not been kind to his body, but neither had his brothers and sisters in his homeland so long ago. Though an unfortunate reality, the black dun stallion was used to pain, and he pushed through it with a rapt, internal discipline. To prove himself against their military chief, he fought Smoke and emerged victorious without use of his dark powers. The former leader, father, and lover thought that he would be content as a warrior, but his bold heart told him otherwise. He ached inside to watch as the members of the Foothills wandered, their leaders so often absent or unwilling. He admired Indy very much, but Paladin saw age in his eyes; leadership took passion. Passion was something Gossamer had in plenty, and if Paladin were being honest, the sheer deluge of emotions made him wary. Having been born and raised by his father, the Crimson King of Dorngarrow, emotions were not permitted, but he found love in his heart for Soleil. Though even he had difficult displaying the depth of his affections at times. Gossamer on the other hand was a veritable ocean of emotions, which was admirable in a mare, but perhaps not in a leader - or so Paladin thought. So his noble, bold heart lead him to this moment, and with a burst of air from his lungs, he cried out a challenge to the white mare. He challenged her for her leadership of the herd, though with respect. She was still Soleil's mother, after all. "My lady," he said, looking around for the mare. "I challenge you for the Foothills. Though you have my respect for raising my love and my appreciation for your acceptance of my love for her, I cannot stand idly by as a warrior of this great land. I desire to make this place great. My heart's yearning for the Tides has waned, and my love for the Hills has grown. I hope you understand, but regardless..." The stallion's crimson eyes flashed with purpose and determination, and he dipped his chin to his chest, displaying his pale, elegant horn. As the sun began to descend slowly, the light danced across the muscles of his lithe and fit form; he awaited a response, but he was prepared for attack. [Word Count: (403 words) - Challenge, no attack or defense] ABOVE ALL ELSE, EQUALITY

The sun was setting in her prospering land and still it was bustling. Narmer and Smoke were beginning their work on the Greencave garden, the foals of the herd were getting ready to begin their apprenticeships, and the others were busy about the task of keeping things green. The growth of her herd satisfied her deeply, so deeply that she felt it in her very bones and she sighed with happiness. The gods had chosen her well, thinks the white mare. Suddenly, Paladin, the mate of her daughter, calls out loudly across the Foothills. She hears his words and his call and feels her throat tighten and her legs tremble with apprehension. She was no fighter, that was why she had Smoke and Indy by her side. There was no way out, for he named her directly. Lazulli, sensing his Love's worry, gives a battle cry from the sky as he rushes towards the stallion

Her feet drag upon the dust for a few strides before she steels herself, she must fight today, she must be a warrior today as well as a Chieftess. She takes one hard step, it lands a thud upon the ground, a cloud of dust poofing up about it. She feels stronger then. Soon her entire stride is powerful and strong. She is not a healer, she is a mother, she is a Queen. With the setting sun at her back she gallops towards her goal. Her eyes flash with something unknown, but it is certainly not happiness or love. She reaches him and skids to a stop. She gives him a calculating glance. He is a stallion, warmblood-like, around her height, and were she a battle scarred stallion they would be evenly matched. However, she was not, she was an anti-war mare. Though, from the fierce look she has put in her eyes he will never know her pessimistic thoughts. Regardless of how much he feels her teeth today, let him feel her stare, let him know that even if he wins he will never be safe. Her voice has no time for refinement today. Her voice is powerful, it rumbles up from her chest like that of a goddess of war as she speaks.

"Paladin. Look around you, this place is already great . We have the most intellect, the most resources, the greatest numbers, and have treaties with every major lead, both in herdlands and those still striving for one. Thanks to Narmer we have buildings and better kept pathways throughout the herdland and we shall also soon have a garden with all the important plants of Helovia within it. My herd currently wants for nothing. You could have had almost any rank. I understand your love for this land, however, I am offended that you would challenge my position. As such, should I win, you will be made a prisoner until I, along with the possibility of Smoke and Indy, decide what to do with you. Your family will not suffer any repercussions." She does not mention her respect, but she gives him a brief nod of her head to signify it, before taking a moment to contemplate her course of action. The ground is rocky, but she has been here longer than he, and before that she lived for quite some time in the Cliffs, her feet are as sure as they will ever be. Her gait floats. But he does not know this, yet.

She launches off a cantering charge aimed towards his left side. However, she is not all that she seems. She allows a bit of nervousness to appear on her facade, making it seem as if her judgement will be clouded by emotions. She pretends to be distracted a bit by picking around the rocks beneath her feet, allowing him the opportunity to lunge. She slows her stride as well, making it less even, and allowing him to judge that perhaps her older age has made her slightly less agile. She does not try to feign things he will already know. Thus, she aims to reach his left side in 3 measured strides. She goes far slower than she would like to, and looking far less skilled than she'd prefer. However, she knows it should pay off later. The Benevolent reaches her target and aims a bite at a large chunk of his shoulder. Should the bite hit, she'll push into him with her nose in an attempt to loosen his balance a bit. However, she holds he weight up, lest she herself become unbalanced. While there she flicks up her tail like a whip towards his face in an attempt to keep him from biting her, should anything hit the plus side would be that he'd feel a sting.

{Post: 1/4
Word Count: 798(fixed) Original: 861
Gossamer arrives with sun behind her, speaks, then charges towards his left side. She slows down her stride, pretends to be distracted a little bit by the rocks, and appears slightly less agile than she actually is. Assuming she reaches his left side she aims a heavy bite at his left shoulder area, fleshy part, and whisks her tail up to attempt to prevent any biting back.}

From the dawn of time, to the end of days I will have to run, away I want to feel the pain, and the bitter taste Of the blood on my lips, again Paladin's dark ears tipped inward, able to hear a dragon's cry in the distance. His timing was ideal because her dragon was blue. Perhaps Lazulli would have blended in with the daytime sky, but not against the orange and red hues of the setting sun. The stallion knew of dragons and their remarkable abilities, and he did not want to get caught making a stupid mistake. His opponent's white figure appears before him and realizes his challenge, and the stallion listens carefully. Paladin was many things, but disrespectful was not one of them. The sun behind her silhouetted her figure in a halo of light, and he squinted in the brightness; he had expected her to come from another direction. "Greatness is measured in different ways," he responded cryptically, but he found her punishment fair. He accepted the possible repercussions of his actions and nodded once, the gesture short and simple. The stallion from the Tides was used to this terrain as he was many others. On his beach, the sands made him strong, but the entrance to Ultima was a rocky pathway that had strengthened his solid hooves. Dorngarrow had prepared him for the heat, as the fires of his father never dimmed or died. Fighting Gossamer would be strange, however, because her figure was about as flighty as her emotions. Again, Paladin likened her to a deluge, a water fall of emotionality. Unused to sparring with such a strange mare, he simply waits to see what she will do first. As a trained warrior with many battles under his hooves, he is confident enough in his ability to defend himself; he will simply use this as an opportunity to figure out her fighting style. Gossamer seemed distracted and nervous, two emotions that he knew would ultimate cause her downfall, but something was off. Even at her most frantic with her sensitivity, she was focused, or at least that was what he thought based on his limited interaction with her and Soleil. Also, she was moving slowly - taunting him to take the first move, perhaps? Crimson eyes narrowed on her musculature, for the angle of her body and the tensing of internal cords would never lie to him. She got close, and he tensed, prepared to react to whatever the pale mare threw his way. The wrinkles on her lips gave away her purpose to bite him, and her back rounded softly as her neck lowered. Ivory fangs dashed out to bite his flesh, but Paladin was ready, and he jumped the front half of his body sideways. He escaped her bite as well as the flash of her tail given that now, the black dun stallion was quite a few feet from her white figure. What Paladin learned was simple: she was sneaky and not straight forward. She would try to trick him into making mistakes or making him believe false realities about her fighting style. To a warrior, this style of battle was unnerving, and the stallion pinned his ebony ears against his neck. Her figure reminded him of Silverline's with her thicker neck, broad, high set shoulders, and thinner hindquarters. She would be agile, like himself, but he would have an advantage in power and strength. Also, he stood taller than she, but perhaps only by a little. Still, his thinner, warmblood neck would have a greater range than her spanish one. After his mind calculated all of this information, he danced on his hooves in place, never letting his body become content with relaxation; Paladin would always be prepared. The black dun tossed his crimson and white mane, flashing his white tail. He circled the mare until the sun was setting behind his own dark form. With bared teeth, he lunged forward at the ivory mare, teeth bared and neck arched over. He aimed to catch the top of her crest and force her to the ground, but he assumed also that she would avoid his first attack. Paladin prepared for this by striking out with his front, left leg, aiming to scrape the skin off of her delicate, front left canon. Now, he wished that Smoke had brought her dragon to their spar so that he would be better prepared, but he would wait and see. [Word Count: (713 words)|(1/4) - Paladin jumps out of the way of her bite and in jumping away, also avoids her flashing tail. He orients himself around her and then lunges forward to bite her crest; expecting her to avoid that, he strikes out to scrape her leg Also, I dont mind the length, but you may be counted off for it] ABOVE ALL ELSE, EQUALITY

{Okay, well, since this hasn't been super noticed I'm going to assume that an extension was/is ok and post.}

Her eyes widen as she sees her mouth closing towards his shoulder, slowly closing a gap, and then the gap widens and he is gone. He was fast, much faster than she’d given him credit for. Perhaps, perhaps she had been lax to begin out slow. However, if this was how he treated her when he thought she was slow, how would he treat her when she was moving full speed ahead?

Gossamer watched him closely as he moved around with both grace and strength. It may seem odd, but she compared his personality to that of Gunslinger. The stallion had been very similar when he had been training her years and years ago. Stay close and tight, she thinks again, you can’t win a fight always running away. So she opens her mind and delves into his, she sees his attack coming, and plans for it. His movements come with almost agonizing slowness, but she holds, with no tell or tenseness as to what is going on in her head, until she thinks he is too committed to completely re-adjust. Because he has not noticed her focus yet, or that she is clear of emotions, and does not know her full speed, he will be far easier to surprise, she thinks.


Even with the sun setting behind his form, he does not stand a chance with her tendrils stuck around his mind. She lunges forward to avoid his flailing left hoof as she swings her body out of his grasp to avoid the bite on her crest. His moving form is then parallel to her own; with his head at her hind and her head at his hind. Though his teeth miss her crest, they whizz by, and just barely miss hitting anything else. Her hair raises with a rush of brief adrenaline as she wonders if he will hit or miss for a moment. But they miss all the same, leaving her mildly unsettled, but clearer on the fact that this really was a fight. She finds that she has an opportunity to aim an attack at him again now. She does not hesitate for a moment. Her Spanish neck arches and she aims a hitting bite at his left stifle which, if it hit, would bruise the bone, swell the muscle, and make movement stiff, as well as rip flesh. While she did this she pawed out with her front left hoof at his left hind leg area, aiming for a painful scrape or bump to further hurt him. Both of these attacks would, if they hit, also be aimed to unbalance him and make him stumble or fall. While she did this she flicked her tail and bounced a bit to avoid getting bit directly by Paladin himself. Though she did not relish this fighting, nor did she know if she had hit with any of her attacks, she certainly felt satisfied that this was a solid attack. A smart, close one that Gunslinger would be proud to watch. The stallion may be bigger, but with clever leverage usage, perhaps she could unbalance him for a win.

{ Post: 2/4
Word Count:522
Gossamer enters his mind and sees the attack coming, along with the hoof jab, and moves out of the way by moving her front legs out of his pawing reach and her body far enough away that the bite misses, but still whizzes by and unsettles her a tinsy bit.

Once she moves, she is parallel to him, with her head at his butt and his head at her butt. She flicks her tail to keep him from biting her while she aims a bite at his left stifle area to restrict his movement, bruise his bone, and attempt to rip flesh.

At the same time she does this she follows Paladin's suit, copying his pawing attack while she aims her bite, to attempt to bruise and further hurt his leg. The attacks aimed at his leg would also be aimed to unbalance him, since she's assuming he'll still aim at least a half paw-out even though shes not there, and hopes that she hits at the right time to force a stumble or fall should the attacks hit.}

From the dawn of time, to the end of days I will have to run, away I want to feel the pain, and the bitter taste Of the blood on my lips, again Paladin's aim was true and his method was perfect, and yet she somehow managed to lunge forward and completely foil his attack. How was this? His crimson eyes filled with violence, and anger filled his heart. What sorcery was she using? Not a single one of his opponents before her had come out unscathed from such a well planned, multi-faceted attack, so she must have been inside his very mind. Nothing else made sense. The stallion wanted to murder her for the violation upon his conscience. His mind was the single most private place, full of his dark history and his secrets. Terrible, dark secrets that continued to plague him with shame and guilt and this bitch raped that safety. The black dun stallion had hoped to conduct this battle with as little darkness as possible, but her actions drove him to a different place within his soul. No longer was the good natured stallion leading his actions, but the raging, wicked creature who had been molded since birth by the cruelty of his sire. He wanted her to feel pain for taking advantage of his head, to suffer. The setting sun cast the sky in a deep red, the clouds were crying blood - a perfect background for his anger. Now their bodies were parallel, his teeth at her hindquarters. A sharp turn of his head told him that her ivories were aiming for his haunches, and the stifle would be the most vulnerable joint. Angrily, the stallion kicked upward with his hind legs violently, avoiding most of her bite to his stifle as well as her front leg in a single defensive move. The brunt force of her teeth was no longer concentrated on the joint, but rather scraped downward along his leg. A bruise would form beneath his skin, and hair was certainly missing from that stripe of flesh; but, the wound not hinder his mobility. She had to maintain her closeness to attack him, so he used that to his advantage. Just as his hind legs hit the ground again, he lifted his mass onto them and pivoted toward her. He used his curled forelegs to protect his underside while he arched his neck over and bared his pale teeth. With speed, he darted downward, keen on making his fangs intimate with the thin flesh all along her spine. If she moved forward, his teeth could land on her important, fleshy hindquarters; if she moved backward, her withers; if she moved away, her left side; if she moved close, her right side. Possibly. Paladin was aware of the fact that he could not see every aspect of the battle from her point of view, so he decided to give her the taste of how angry he was over the rape she committed against his mind. With a yell of rage through his lungs, the black dun stallion's crimson eyes flashed with cruelty and injury. He pulled together all of the darkness that resided within his soul, and focused on the life's blood of Gossamer. Then, he began to use this power to heat the liquid within her viens, the very fuel to her body. He would make it boil within her body, and he knew from fighting Boudicca so long ago just how painful that could be. [OOC: (word count: 557)|(2/4) - Paladin bucks to avoid her attack, but her teeth scrape along his hind leg. He rears up and pivots toward her to dive down and aims to bite along her spine. Then, he uses his blood boiling magic against her] ABOVE ALL ELSE, EQUALITY

Anger, skin, teeth, blood, and pain were all things which registered in rapid fire. Firstly, she registered his outrage at her dodging of his attack. Secondly, she had to close herself off to his mind immediately after that so she wasn’t overcome with his blind anger. Right after that, without any time to really think, she finds that her attack has been somewhat thwarted, that there is hair and skin and in her teeth and that it all tastes horrible. She should feel happy about such a success, but instead she finds that her teeth are slightly throbbing from the attack. Stupid, bloody males, thinks Gossamer. No one ever bothered to tell her that even when you won an attack it still hurt. Battling males must all be so macho to never admit to their own discomfort when dealing a blow to an opponent.
She didn’t have long to contemplate this however, because then he was moving again, and she had to follow. It was a dangerous dance now, no longer an angry Waltz. The partners were no longer merely grumpy, but fighting in an all out Tango of destruction. One wrong move and a skirt will rip, a toe lost, a tie ruined, and it all depended upon minding the steps already laid out in the routine. However, the steps were subject to change, as always steps were. Like now for instance, as Gossamer is watching his muscles flex and finding she has no clue what he plans. That would be when the scene ceases its rapid fire feel.

He moves clearly then, neck tucked, and she sees he aims to pivot towards her body. So she pirouettes gracefully with him, though clearly without enough speed. While she manages to maintain their parallel condition rather well, he manages to get that bite to scrape down the side of her left barrel. It is jarring, awakening, painful, and it makes her squeal in anger. He removes the hair, breaks some skin, and makes it feel as if she’s just rammed into a scraping rock wall. While he’s ripping of her dance tights and breaking sweet skin though, she aims a rapid bite of her own at his left side again. Should she strike true, it would hit his barrel, his back, or his hip, depending upon where the attack landed. There is a pain shortly after this. It is not from the bite. It starts out small, deep inside, and feels like a warm tingle. But it quickly grows until she is certain her insides must be boiling like an egg which has fallen from the nest and lay roasting in the sun.

For the moment of space between the simultaneously aimed bites and whatever movements will follow, a scream of pure agony erupts from between her velvet lips at a nearly deafening loudness. No scream is like that of a woman in pain. So great is this unearthly pain that vision almost ceases, breathing almost stops, and her mind is reduced to purely primal reactions. She realizes, as she screams, that her daughter is in love with a stallion that is truly a monster, the epitome of evil, and she is saddened.

In this same moment of space, Lazulli shuts himself off from the pain which is about to wash over his love. He dives from his hidden perch within the branches of an overhanging tree where he has been sitting since his initial, loud arrival. He aims straight and true and makes sure to keep himself slow and controlled enough that he can move and adjust to sudden movements. With the eyes of a lifetime, experienced hunter he locks on to his target and parts his maws to unleash hell upon the bastard who dared to try and hurt his bonded. Forget ripping ties and breaking toes, why not set the bloody things on fire? Lazulli aimed the metal melting liquid fire towards the stallion’s right side. Should the stallion move upwards at all, in a higher rear or something of the sort, his lower right shoulder and leg would get burned. Should he move down at all, his full shoulder and withers area would get burned and possibly some mane as well. Should the stallion move forward he would become burned along his barrel, should he back up his neck, and lastly, should he turn to look, his face would be burned. Possibly. Lazulli will not be tricked into harming his love, however.

{Post: 3/4
Word Count: 751
Gossamer pirouettes/pivots/aka matches his circle so his teeth scrape her barrel quite firmly. All hair removed, some blood drawn. At the same time he gets in this bite though, she aims another at his left side depending upon where it hits the bite may be harmful or easy/light(if it hits). She is almost blinded by the blood boiling pain and reduced to only minor defense. However, this causes Lazulli to come in at the same time from his perch in a tree, which is where he's been the whole fight after his entrance, and he unleashes his full fire-ey efforts upon paladin. The fire could be avoided, but Lazulli has control over his speed and as such will more easily adjust to movements. Should Paladin look, his face will possibly be burned. Move forward, and his barrel could be burned. Move backwards, his neck/mane area. Up, his lower shoulder/leg area. Down, his upper shoulder/withers area with maybe some mane if you so choose. The last sentence is just saying that Lazulli will decrease intensity so as to not harm Gossamer should Paladin evade, aka, won't hurt Gossamer.}

From the dawn of time, to the end of days I will have to run, away I want to feel the pain, and the bitter taste Of the blood on my lips, again Testosterone and adrenalin that now fueled his system wove a veil between his bodily sensations and the urge to fight. Crimson now cloaked his vision, and the heart in his chest beat strongly, urging his muscles to move. The stallion was a machine, not a dancer; a calculating, cold machine with a singular missive from the mental overlord: win at any cost. Instead of reining in his darker nature, he let it free. It poured into his soul like a tidal wave of hatred, and he loathed that it felt good. The hate and violence soothed all of the sore places in his heart; it told him that none of it mattered, that he was in control. She dances away from him, and his eyes see the world in terms of physics: action and reaction. Calculable quantities with finite, real evaluations. Still, he would make purchase. Two trains going at different speeds are leaving the station at the same time; which one arrives first? The train with gravity on his side. The black dun's teeth slid down her side, ripping hair and flesh that painted his mouth with the bitter, copper taste of blood; he was familiar with that flavor, having tasted it on the battlefield before. Action and reaction. He risked being close to the mare to be able to injure her side, and in return, she reacted. A sharp snap of his skin and the instantaneous burning pain told him that she had broken the charcoal surface to reveal the fleshy inside; he was bleeding. Luckily for him, the mare's neck did not reach his vital, muscular hips, but rather the bone on his back. A bruised rib would cause pain; an injured hip muscle would leave him useless. The jarring sensation in his jaw made him clench it closed, and he moved swiftly with his mind, shoving out the pain and rage into her very veins. A single squeal of pain was not enough; he needed a scream. As he watched her boil from the inside out, he took a few steps away from her, ignoring the ache in his skin. Her scream broke through the calculation of his mind and sang sweet melodies; it soothed him. A flash of blue against the crimson sun brought him out of this melody and incited his concentration. The power he held over her blood collapsed in one miscalculation, and the black dun tried to re-calibrate, to think of any possible way he could avoid getting burned completely. Return: ERROR. No real solution. Fuck. The stallion's course of action now was to try to minimize the damage. As the creature came in hot, fire blazing from his maw at temperatures that would snap the thermometer, Paladin backed away quickly, ducking his head between his legs to try and preserve his vital organs. No words could describe the pain and the sickening smell that erupted from his body as the dragon's fire glazed over his skin and crest. The crimson and white mane was now singed to the roots, merely a white stripe along his crest. Through the pain, he bitterly found irony in the fact that he had asked for this in his fight with Smoke; the gods were cruel bastards. Fortunately, he backed away quickly, and his shoulder did not take the brunt of the flame. Only the surface was singed to the muscle, the flesh beginning to bubble and puss from the heat and sand. Lastly, the fire caught part of his face that he did not hide quickly enough; it singed the lashes and injured the lid on his right, crimson orb, leaving the eye only able to see through a crack lest pain plague him. He knew that the flame would leave a massive scar that would wind its way from his face down to his shoulder. The Valiant would carry this battle with him through all of his years, and he intended to punish her for this. Quickly, he turns to face her with his left eye, feeling the pulling, aching skin on his right shoulder groan. With little warning, he lunged at Gossamer with his horn pointed at her shoulder, letting the rage fuel him once again. Crimson turned to black inside as he tried to ignore the pain from his burns; the calculations for his movement to include this pain as a variable were growing very long, but he would manage. He lunged at Gossamer, propelling quickly, straight for her middle, forelegs lifted high and aiming for her already injured side. Should either of them land there, he knew that the pain would be almost unbearable; should he miss, he would still have his horn, pointed toward her flesh. The machine that she was building was him; she created a monster. [Word Count: (798 words)|(3/4) - Goss manages to bite his skin until it bleeds. The dragon burns up his shoulder, his crest and part of his face over his eye. Then, he lunges at her, hooves aimed for her side; his horn is ready to dive and take over if she tries to escape] ABOVE ALL ELSE, EQUALITY

I am dying, she thinks, my blood, it must be boiling.
But then it stops. There is still a fog of pain around her, but she no longer is certain that she is going to die.
Then everything comes back, like emerging from deep under water, and she is thrown back into panic. Burning flesh, the scent is everywhere. Fire, she sees fire. She is on fire. No, Paladin, Paladin is on fire. Lazulli is burning him alive.

She watches, through wavering sight, as his skin bubbles and boils and melts until she is certain Lazulli is going to kill him, burning him alive. She tries to use her connection to him and tell him to stop, but she finds that she cannot. She is merely a spectator to the actions being carried out, screaming inside at what she sees. Then the fire stops and the flesh melts no longer. Her eyes lock on in horror as she watches it slowly reform as it cools. The bubbles and boils slowly coming to a stop. She knew that Lazulli had done what he had done in order to save her, but she couldn't help but feel as if it could have been avoided somehow. Perhaps that thought was just wishful thinking. Her attention was changed then as she sees Paladin rousing himself from his pain and throwing an angry, final effort her direction. She watches with a sad expression as his angry one turns her way. She only ever wanted to have a happy relationship with her daughter's family, but what would Sol-bug think of her now? She didn't think that that their relationship would be good, even if it was known that he had only been burned in self defense.

So he turns to her and she dodges his attack to the best of her abilities,fighting through her burning blood. She pivots on her front legs, her hind swiveling around to avoid the worst of his damaging attack. His feet miss, but his horn scrapes a painful cat-scratch from the middle of her barrel to her hip. It is not extremely deep, but it crosses over the bite and, like rubbing salt in a wound, of course hurts more than it would have otherwise. Everything seems to hurt more now though, with the blood boiling affecting her. Her muscles scream and ache as she moves and finds herself perpendicular to him as he just was to her. She avoids the parts of him that are still somewhat like melted butter and goes instead for a place she hasn't managed a bite yet, his muscular upper hips, the side or top. It would be painful should she hit, but not as bad as getting your melted hide ripped off or your already bit back being bit yet again. She keeps close while she does this to prevent any real attempts at kicking out, even though the scent nearly chokes her into a colic. Though she is close and aims that a bite, she is mostly trying to minimize his movement and attacks, as she doesn't want any more effort or pain to be doled out in this fight. Her body aches, as she know his must, but his body is worse: flesh burned, hide broken, and still burning with a fire that does not come from anywhere but from within. Such anger and hate. It is not a way to live. He would not have been hurt as badly had he not been consumed by it.

{Post: 4/4
Word Count: 590
Gossamer, still in great pain,watches in horror as Lazulli burns Paladin. Lazulli stops and Gossamer does not see where he goes, but does notice that Paladin still manages to run through his pain, and pivots on her front feet to avoid the worst of his attack. However, she is then in the same position he is in, but avoids aiming anything at his already battered parts and goes for his hip area. She then stays close so he can't get any effective kicks in. She also does this to try and minimize his movements so he can't attack too much anymore.}

From the dawn of time, to the end of days I will have to run, away I want to feel the pain, and the bitter taste Of the blood on my lips, again The pain of being burned was something he could not express in coherent, understandable words. Only a thick, heavy groan moved past his lips, and he barked in pain as he closed his singed eyelid. Even though the fire was gone, his skin continued to burn with the agony of a thousand needles, like he had taken to rolling in cactus or a pine tree eighty thousand times and then stood in the middle of a desert. He had to keep moving or he knew that his body would shut down in shock. Already he could feel the lethargy and pain starting to cool is muscles, making moving difficult. In an effort to rid himself of this sensation, he took a flying leap at Gossamer, breaking the start of his shock cycle before it could weigh on him too heavily. Gossamer must have been distracted by the lingering pain of his magic, and for Paladin this was a blessing, he would take any advantage he could. He feels pressure against his skull as the horn upon his brow slices through her skin, right over her previous wounds. The stallion is in too much pain to enjoy hers; he sees it only as fair retribution. After the rape of his mind and the dragon's fire, Paladin could see only fairness in his actions. Perhaps at the beginning his rage and temper had taken control, but now... she deserved every last strip of agony that leaked from her flesh in crimson form. The smell of his burning flesh made his stomach churn, and the memories of his father's brutality came flooding back. So many dead; everything burning. Unfortunately, the smell of decaying and burning flesh, raining ash and bloody tears was completely normal, and he felt like crying out to the gods that he had run away from Dorngarrow. Why was it haunting him? It's in you... He wrenches open the injured, crimson eyeball with a harsh, short bark of pain just in time to see that the white bitch was ignoring his melted flesh for his hips - the only uninjured part of him bloody left! With a sharp turn of his own hips this time, their bodies creating the symbol of infinity with their movements, he manages to escape her ivories with only black hair ripped off. The pain of his hair being removed was like a playful tickle in comparison to the fire that still ached on his shoulder and neck, and he was grateful that he only had to pivot on his forehand to avoid her. Paladin watched as she remained close to his body, most likely in an effort to minimize him using the most powerful and whole part of his body still left; his muscular haunches. The stallion smirked - clever witch. With his teeth clenched together, he continued shifting on his legs, making sure that he kept moving, though he heavily favored his left side. With a sharp snap, he flashed his teeth at her in hopes of landing a bite, but he knew that she was in a much better place to avoid any physical attack. Every effort he uses to try and distance himself fails. He is simply too encumbered with the sensation of burning to will himself to move too much, and he feels the anger of his power boiling just beneath his skin. It is ready for him to call at will - eager to burn from the inside out once again. The stallion does not necessarily desire to cause her any more pain, but he needs the distance and he needs to emerge victorious. He did not become this war machine to simply lose because of vicious burns. With a flash of his crimson eyes, the black dun levels his magic at her again, waiting for a chance to back away once her writhing starts. He knows that it will not feel as painful as before; he is injured and injuries are just fucking distracting. If Paladin could hear her thoughts, he would have to laugh. The stallion did not choose the magic that he had been given; he had been gifted it since birth. Another brutal trait he gained from his father. But you use what you are gifted, especially if that means that you will gain what you desire. In this case, Paladin's motives are mostly selfless. He wants to better organize the herd, send them forward into a fullscale operation of glory; the lethargy and carelessness he had observed was not all right, and he wanted to change this. And the former leader only knew one way how - lead. The stars were beginning to shine above, encasing the black dun in beautiful darkness. A cool breeze soothed his aching burns. [Word Count: (796 words)|(4/4) - Avoids her bite by sidestepping. Bites at her, albeit weakly. Uses his magic on her one more time. ;) I want the extra magic point. Haha. ] ABOVE ALL ELSE, EQUALITY

The sun finishes its setting in colors of increasingly vibrant reds and yellows. Blood and puss, both things which both fighters will be tasting and feeling long after the curtains have fallen on this fight. Hard fought, it'll be hard won.

Gossamer stands close by and, as her mouth finds no purchase in its bite, a grunt escapes her throat. She tries to keep up with his movements to minimize them, but mostly just manages to keep herself out of the way of his last bite as it whizzes sloppily by her hide. He must have been tired, for she assumed now it was him conducting the boiling pain, as he aimed the boiling pain at her body again.

It flowed through her worn body like fire and she felt like screaming, but this battle had taken its toll upon her now, so she merely grimaced, ground her teeth, and glared at him. But she didn't budge or flinch away. This was her land, this was her haven, this was a place where horses didn't have to be like him: angry, consumed by lust for battle, monsters for blood. She wasn't going to let him have it and she sure as hell felt like she'd put up a damn good fight to save her home. Oh, but one last thing, she thinks, he needs to at least know the outline of greatness before he plays a word game with it.

"Greatness may be defined in different ways, but it sure as hell isn't measured by how big it makes your balls feel to conquer another. Its measured by how happy those you lead are, and how well they live."

{Closing
Word Count: 281
Goss avoided his bite and grimaced through his weak blood attack, but didn't move away or retreat. She stayed near.}

From the dawn of time, to the end of days I will have to run, away I want to feel the pain, and the bitter taste Of the blood on my lips, again Paladin easily danced away from her while the pain of his magic ran through her veins once more, and he listened to her words, brows furrowed. "I did not challenge you for my own selfish gain, Gossamer," he growled thickly through pain. "I challenged you because I saw a lack of leadership, because I watched many go to other herds when you should have been in the Threshold welcoming others with an open heart. Instead, you fawn over your child instead of treating the entire herd as your own." Though his voice was pained, he spoke words that were dripping in honesty and his emotions. "Everyone here lives well because the land is fertile, not because of your leadership. In my opinion, Smoke has been more proactive in speaking to the other herds and putting the Foothills as a realm of power and not one so easily destroyed in the future." The black dun stallion grimaced. "I have not emerged into this wold a pure and innocent being, but I have made damn well sure to keep my family safe and to protect the Tides from rampant racism. The Tides was a place of sanctuary, full and teeming with life until the end, and I cannot live stagnantly." Paladin winced a little and shifted his weight, his crimson eyes staring sternly into her own. "I would not have taken these wounds upon myself if I did not find it absolutely necessary for the safety, well being and greatness of this free land. Greatness is measured in numbers, happiness, and equality, and this herd is ill represented in most areas." [Word Count: Retaliation post! Not to be counted in judging. ] ABOVE ALL ELSE, EQUALITY

G o s s a m e r | P a l a d i n - - - - - By my verdict PALADIN is the winner. GOSSAMER -- post 1 (attack only) [Realism] + 1| Attempting to fool Paladin with slow movements. + 1| Attack: biting at his shoulder + 1| Tail whip to prevent biting [Prose] + 1| Easy read + 1| Good emotion + 1| Flow PALADIN -- post 1 [Realism] + 1| Defense: Jumping to avoid her bite and tail whip. + 1| Circling Gossamer to end up with the light shining from behind him, giving her poor lighting to see. + 1| Attack: Bite to the crest. + 1| Attack: kick with front leg for her cannon [Prose] + 1| Easy read 0 | Emotion - Paladin is very technical in this post, and I would like to see him be more emotionally present. + 1| Flow GOSSAMER -- post 2 [Realism] + 1| Entering paladin's mind to know his actions and prepare - 1| Defense: lunging forward to avoid attack. While Gossamer would naturally have a speedier build than Paladin, he also has a speed buff, making his movements either as fast or faster than her own. I don't think it's plausible for her to escape unscathed in such a tight time frame, as she had paused to allow him to commit to the attack. + 1| Attack: biting at his stifle. + 1| Attack: pawing toward his back leg. [Prose] + 1| Easy read + 1| Emotion + 1| Flow PALADIN -- post 2 [Realism] + 1| Defense: Kicking out in response to her bite, getting a scrape to the leg. + 1| Attack: pivoting to bite her back. + 1| Attack: using his blood boiling magic + 1| Experience: mention of a previous spar with Boudicca. [Prose] + 1| Easy Read + 2| Whoa damn Paladin is angry. + 1| Flow GOSSAMER -- post 3 [Realism] + 1| Recoil from the bite. - 1| While I appreciate the recoil, a horse is kicking upward, when the head is low as well as a leg sticking out, and she garners no other injury. This seems highly unlikely. + 1| Defense: pivoting away from Paladin and taking the bite to her side. + 1| Attack: Biting at his left side. + 1| Attack: Lazulli breathing fire toward Paladin. [Prose] + 1| Easy Read + 1| Emotion + 1| Flow PALADIN -- post 3 [Realism] + 1| Defense: took bite to the bony back. + 1| Excellent reaction to a "no escape" dragon attack. Made me chuckle. + 1| Defense: tucking his head to protect himself while taking hot fire. + 1| Attack: stabbing at her shoulder with his horn. + 1| Attack: throwing his front legs toward her injured side. [Prose] + 1| Easy Read + 2| Emotion + 1| Flow GOSSAMER -- post 4 [Realism] + 1| Defense: pivoting to have his horn jab become a swipe. + 1| Attack: mercifully biting at his hips. + 1| Having the pain slow her movements. [Prose] + 1| Easy Read + 2| Gossamer's saddened and merciful tone is great. + 1| Flow PALADIN -- post 4 [Realism] + 1| Defense: sharp turn to a damaging bite. 0| Attack: biting at her is the only plausible attack I see. However, you did not clearly define where his aim is, which I assumed was somewhere near her hip because of the former figure eight analogy. You should still mention it here. + 1| Attack: using his blood boiling magic to escape from her side. [Prose] + 1| Easy Read + 1| Emotion + 1| Flow GOSSAMER -- post 5 (defense only) [Realism] - 1| Defense: avoiding the bite. This is listed so vaguely that I'm not sure what she does to avoid it. + 1| Facing the blood boiling with a stubborn attitude this time. [Prose] 0| Easy Read: overly vague, but not hard. + 1| Emotion 0| Flow: in comparison to your other posts, this one was disjointed and felt rushed. GOSSAMER [Bonus] + 1| Good use of mind reading magic. + 1| Good use of dragon. + 1| Mindfulness of your opponent's experience and build. + 1| Health [Injuries] None of note. [Creativity] Nothing of note. Comments: Overall, Illu, I think you did a good job handling this fight spacially. The only thing that seemed to nag at me was the fact that Gossamer never really took injury except in the case of unavoidable magic. Compared to Paladin, she is definitely better for wear, but this doesn't seem completely plausible and led me to stretch my imagination in some cases a lot more than I would like. Still, you used your magic effectively, and I think it really paid off in the long run. Good fight! PALADIN [Bonus] + 2| Good use of blood bending magic. + 1| Breed comparison and analysis of Gossamer. + 1| Mentioning how past lands have strengthened him (Tides, Ultima). [Injuries] - 1| Serious burn. [Creativity] Nothing of note. Comments: Jesus, Paladin is beat up. He is going to need to see a healer soon. xD Anyway, I think you handled this fight really well. You took a lot of damage, but avoided extremely crippling attacks to the legs. Burns are typically superficial and more of a problem later with infection, but you handled the pain well in this fight. I loved the allusions to his past and the emotion you showed later in this fight. Paladin is definitely fighting a monster, and I love it. Good fight! TOTAL Gossamer - 79 Paladin - 81