Maybe you should give your little companion more credit for what she does... Maybe. You wouldn't want to be premature with any praise but she's done you a great service. At least this time. Whatever the hell was so upsetting about that egg- you're still not really sure- gives you that moment, that instant, that you need to get yourself close to the unicorn and safely around his sword. And with your biggest hurdle cleared, it's no surprise that your right shoulder rams into his. You relish the way the pain reverberates through your muscles, drink in the feeling of that new bruise that will form under your skin. It's give and take, a double edged sword- pain for him but you must take pain to yourself. You do not mind. Whether it's the drugs or the sunlight or something else, you are strangely happy on this day and nothing will bring you down.

Even so, accepting of the wound or not, your shoulder still twinges when you move, the muscles tightening down and restricting motion. You do not particularly relish the feeling but you use the pain as a motivator. It drives you forward, hindlimbs gathering beneath you as you push forward, your body fighting to stay upright after the return of your beloved locoweed. It's been so long, too long, since you have lived under her influence. And detox... you shudder to think of it once more. Already, you've made a promise to yourself that you'll never go without the drug again. Already, you've done your best to return your body to the pleasantly high state that you so enjoy. What you didn't count on was the difficulty of getting back into the rhythm and sway of things. You thought it would come naturally, that your muscles would remember all the right ways of holding you up against gravity. You guess you were wrong, because this is proving to be rather difficult.

Suddenly, there is a chaotic explosion of motion. The unicorn reaches out, biting, snapping, grabbing for your companion. And while she may be but a wisp of a creature, invisible at most times, you have learned very well that they feel pain. You are reminded of this fact when your thoughts are suddenly overpowered by childish emotions, the boggart suffering from the bite and feeling very afraid, rushing away from the scene of the fight as quickly as she can. The sudden explosion of extracorporeal feelings is enough, just enough, to distract you. You miss the distinctive tightening of gluteal muscles that indicate a buck about to happen. Damn her to high hell for getting in the way. Your lips turn to a scowl. So much for that good mood.

The unicorn's hooves fly off the ground and you throw your legs underneath you, trying to skid to a stop, not yet past his hind end. It's too much; you're too big. His hooves barely brush your fur, causing no damage, but it is not his hooves that are the problem. Your right shoulder, with already tight muscles, is assaulted again, new pain firing up the limb, although not much worse than before. As for your left shoulder, the old injury there is reawakened. It is just a whisper of pain now, a reminder of the wound that the crazy gray mare inflicted upon you, but you are coming to realize it is a wound that will plague you for the rest of your life. You make a note to find her and kill her later. For now, you've got this unicorn to take care of.

Lunging forward and to the left, you return his favor and throw your limbs into a buck, pushing past the pain it causes due to placing all of your weight on your front limbs. You care not where your hooves hit, if they hit at all, but you were at least trying to aim for his rib cage. When your hooves reach solid ground again, you waste no time. You immediately begin to circle back to the left, hoping you'll be quick enough to make it back to him before he takes off. The turn seems almost agonizingly slow to you, your body nearly tipping outwards, the locoweed still playing its dangerous tricks on your balance. Somehow you manage to save yourself and you complete your 180 degree turn, hoping to face perpendicular to the Gray's right side. Almost blindly, you reach out with teeth bared, snapping and biting, trying to grab his flesh and pinch him, bruise him, assault him. Let him enjoy that pain.

Around you, the willow branches blow gently in the breeze, protesting the violence you've brought to their intimate lands. You're deaf to their pleas to stop; the sounds of battle have invaded your ears.


Post| 2/3
WC| 800