GAUCHO

As his bestest pal's large rear was ungracefully shoved into a tree, a memory flashed before Gaucho's eyes. Tree stand up fine without you, he thought he recalled himself saying, as an image of Oxy resting against a tree danced before his mind. Well maybe I don't stand up fine without the tree. Had Oxy said that? Had this conversation happened, or was he just imagining things? As this was one of the first few instances of truly remembering that had occurred thus far, the dun's mind temporarily distanced itself from trying to shove over his friend, and instead tried to focus on what had happened next. There were trees...and...drugs in the bag? Damnit. That hadn't happened before, that was obviously happening now.

Gaucho felt a sharp snap of pain in his neck as Oxy thrust his head upwards, parting their metaphorical hand-holding. Grunting in pain, the dun tried to retreat a few steps, shifting the majority of his weight into his hind end as he did so, as if preparing to try and lift off. However suddenly the world began to grow darker around the edges - and pinpoints of light began to blur Gaucho's vision. Snorting, Gaucho tried to widen his stance somewhat to remain upright, but found this his limbs felt stiff and awkward - was this just an after effect of the drugs..? Funny. This hadn't happened before.

Wait. Before?! Before when? Was he remembering? Was he...

"Hit me-" he heard himself mumble, his mind seemingly still stuck in the memory of their first encounter. And, like a good bestfriend, Oxy did.

The pain that etched through Gaucho's wing joint did nothing to remove the effects of Oxy's magic. It only succeeded in causing his already racing heart to beat faster. Oxy's proximity sent Mara slithering up Gaucho's neck to the safety of his antlers. Although the snake would have loved to sink her teeth into Oxy's thick neck, those horns looked like they could easily pull her to the ground, where she could be trampled. Having already leaned back on his haunches, Oxy's thrust to Gaucho's shoulder sent the dun's hind-legs scrambling to try and keep him upright. Had his spiked-collar jabbed his comrade in this effort? If his mind and body hadn't been so disoriented by Oxy's magic, Gaucho might have been able to do more to ensure that it had. Oh well. Instinctively, his wings beat rapidly at his sides to try and aid in recalibrating his balance, causing shooting pains to flare and bite where Oxy's horns had gauged his left joint. He must have looked like he was trying to put the flames on his wings out, the way they were shaking with his haphazard backwards steps. If Gaucho looked, he was sure that he would see blood trickling down his barrel, from his wing. How aesthetically courteous of The Addict - the blood stains matched the bloody hand-print on his hindquarter.

As his wings beat and his balanced steadied, the biting red-hot pain in his shoulder and wing did seem to clear his darkened vision. Or at least, the pain was enough to remind his primitive brain that bestest buddy or not, Oxy was going to get it.

Get what you ask?

Fire.

Steady on his feet now, Gaucho beat his wings one final time, screaming between clenched teeth to override the pain in his wing as he did so. An arch of fire erupted from his black feathers, racing outwards. His vision still felt slightly delayed- was that because of the drugs? Or Oyx's magic? Either way, he couldn't be sure that his friend would be centered in the blast - but he did hope to singe some of Oxy's hair. His pal would look good with a mohawk.

Would they both look good with a mohawk?!

(Yep. Definitely the drugs).

Grinning at the thought, Gaucho lowered his head slightly, antlers pointed outwards. He hoped his pal hadn't been burned too badly (he was rather handsome, after all) - but even more importantly, he hoped the drugs hadn't been burned too badly. Didn't he keep them in that bag? Gaucho sniffed the air, trying to discern if he could smell burning weeds.

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WC: 705
Attack:2/4