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Well. That escalated quickly.
The conditions for the little pony went from bad to worse. As Moniz tried to swing her ample bottom into the big mare, the hoof that she pivoted on slipped on the slick footing and awkwardly gave way under her own weight. The area around her lower canon bone throbbed dully, a sure sign that she had strained one of the tight muscles that supported that structure. Before Moniz could utter a single, “Goddamngoodfornothingshit!”, the hard surface of the other mare’s hoof smacked soundly against the side of Moniz’s haunches. Small blessings: being shorter worked to her advantage again, as the other mare could not smoothly connect with the pony’s hind legs and instead pounded sharply against the higher flesh of her hindquarters. It was an area that Moniz had thoroughly protected with by a thick layer of fat, but the rush of pain of yet another bruise began to pulse menacingly under her skin.
This was all quite the shitshow for little Moniz. She could scarcely take stock of the many injuries that had spread over her prideful body, and the only thing she could concentrate on besides the pain that cried for attention was just how much she wanted to destroy this other mare.
But before Moniz could collect herself, a slashing set of hooves and cloud of snow flew up in her face. By now, her survival instinct took control of her muscles and swung her thick head away from the weapons of pony destruction attached to the other mare’s legs. Her reaction time was not enough to completely avoid the blow, though, and as yet another hoof connected with her jiggly body, Moniz earned another bruise from this unpleasant scrap. The fleshy base of her neck absorbed the hit, and as the mare galloped off into the woods, Moniz roared furiously after her, “FUCKING COWARD!”.
Here I am mangled to shit, bruised like a piece of rotten fruit, and this bitch won’t even stick around and fight face-to-face? She doesn’t deserve to get away with this. She won’t get away with this. I’m going to pummel her. The bleeding, aching pony never lost her determination, bless her cold heart. She was a stubborn thing, and she’d be six feet under the ground before she’d concede this fight.
She might be able to kick my ass, but this bitch ain’t the brightest, Moniz thought grimly as she studied the tracks in the snow that led to the woods. The heavy snow marked out the path to her, and the sparse vegetation of winter provided little coverage, anyways. And I don’t have to waste energy moving through the snow – she’s cleared the way for me. Sweetheart, the pony thought with bitter sarcasm.
The bloody left hock remained her gravest injury, so Moniz stumbled into a hobbling lope, the three-beat gait that allowed her to least stress that leg. She couldn’t move gracefully, but with the cleared path and the gentler gait, she managed efficiently enough. The many bruised spots on her body suffered from a pain that seemed to radiate out from the point of contact, like the armies of her body’s inflammatory response were marching in to their new stations from all corners. It made the entirety of her body feel weary with soreness, with several sharp peaks of pain where she had taken the many blows. Still, she could not help but be impressed with herself - beat to shit and I’m still scary enough that this bitch is running and hiding. Pretty badass.
Yes, bleeding, battered pony. You’re such a badass.
The little jaunt to the woods ended and Moniz slinked through the trees, her agility again coming into play as she still managed to swiftly navigate the undergrowth. Finding the object of all her rage, Moniz lunged through the trees with teeth bared, snapping hard at the point of the mare’s shoulder – a target she would never admit she had selected for its relative safety away from dangerous haunches and biting teeth. Still reeling with ire and beginning to feel the dizzying effects of her injuries, Moniz summoned what remained of her willpower for one final push. She abruptly tried to back her ass up against the mare, trying to get as little distance as possible between them before kicking out three times in quick succession towards the demon’s barrel. Three times: boom, boom, boom, with flattened little ears and prolonged indignant squealing, Moniz hurled all of her animosity at the mare, channeling it through the medium of her dark, solid hind hooves.
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[JUDGED] Who's the crooks in this crime? [Hellä]
