"Why have you come troll?"

A voice laced with ice asks the girl from the shade of a boulder. Lounging at it's side, just out of sight if you don't stare at the proper angle, the blue gelding lay. His body was sunk in the sand, forehooves curled beneath him and wings raised faintly at his sides. Behind him, a cow's tail flicked its feathered tip. The tapping was the only sign of his irritation; it mimicked the impatient twitch of a cat. Otherwise the creature seemed at peace, for his ears were relaxed and his eyes droopy with slumber.

Well, not quite slumber. He'd had a rather large lack of that lately. The rings casting dark shadows on his face were from sleepless nights and torturous days. The haunted look in his gaze was not the fog of sleep, but the opaque fuzz of one caught in-between the waking world and the dreaming.

Here - now - his dreams, his memories, his fears roamed around him. The sand was ash, this boulder a tree, and Ophelia a nasty troll. Her horn rose like a sharp blade in its cruel, twisted hand. Her color, the pale cloak of death they often came in, banished as they were to the outer regions where little sunlight peaked. Snot would cover her nose and forth her mouth. Pus would stream from the corners of her eyes while blood would cake the various tattoos and stitching attained from daily troll affairs.

Jaydan's nose curled up in disgust.
"Nobody wants you here Troll. Nobody."

Slowly the gelding slid up from his casual pose. He behaved no different from a typical horse, even taking the time to shake the sand from his coat as it willed to cling to him still. It tousled his mane and for a flash he was handsome again, whole again. The moment was soon lost - blue eyes flicked up at the girl.

The moment they touched hers, he changed.
"Die." he muttered under his breath.

Sand flew and feathers whirled as Jaydan surged forward with a warring bellow. His nose tucked tightly to his chest, the fine point of his horn set at the triangle of the child's chest, heart and throat. He charged with all killing intent, head thrusting up in an attempt to eviscerate her front end and leave her choking on red. Should that fail, perhaps he'd just catch her in a head butt.

She speaks but he does not hear. It is only the garbled, hissing, moaning language of a troll anyway. They do not talk, not really, they just grunt and roar and rage like overgrown boars. It disgusts him and he only wishes her dead even more.

She flew back, like a little bird. The edges of reality and dream blurred in that moment, suggesting to Jaydan the truth in his deed, or rather exposing the lie of it. Trolls are not birds, they are not little, they are not fast. It makes him frown and his head pounds with the ache of trying to understand it. Better not to think on it then. Better to take that throbbing hurt and shove it down with all the rest of the pan these beasts have caused him.

His hooves skid in the sand, wings catching wind and balance, tail feathers whipping behind him like the long plume of a cheetah on the run. He barely paused before surging forward; he is rapid, athletic, deadly. The troll squeals ahead of him and he bellows to drown it out.

"FOR LUUUUUUUUUUUUUUIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN"
Sand spits behind him like strange rain. His head is tucked once again as he draws up behind her, aiming to shuffle up her left side and let slip his horn into the soft meat of her flank - the troll's thigh. He would cripple her, and then he would kill her slowly.

K R I the R E S O L U T E
it's not the petty imperfections that define us, but the way we hold our hearts.

Pounding hooves, a sharp cry, it all echoes in my mind. My drooping head raises in alarm, half asleep my thoughts wander back toward the day of the cataclysm, the cliffs uprooting themselves and hurling boulders at their once beloved occupants. I shake my head, listening as the call unfolds in the desert, trying to locate which direction it comes from. My ears twisted on top of my head until it catches on the wind, and then in an instant I am in motion. My hooves pound heavily on the sand to get the speed I needed before pushing harshly up on my hind end, wings slamming down heavily to pull myself in the air as I tug at the wind to give me speed. The calls were dire, whoever was calling for me, and I had no time to waste on pure physics of movement.

Blue eyes remain on the ground below, searching for frames of bodies, and in the gleam of sunlight I see a white canvas with red. Ophelia, I note with apprehension. Had someone discovered her sneaking in their lands and chased her here? I knit my brow for a moment until my eyes anchor onto a body of blue. Jaydan, the strange gelding whom Onni said lived in Isilme briefly, chasing after her, deadly intent in the speed and posture of his body. "What in bloody hell?" I say to myself before tilting my wings harshly downward, wing sliding from behind me and falling forward, a rush of air to warn you before my hooves crash into your body. Downward I drop, like a stone in the sky, until I catch myself some few feet from the surface and drive forward, my own blue eyes gripped in a deadly lock of bloodlust on Jaydan's body.

I drive in from the opposite side of Ophelia from which he attacks, barely grazing over her back, jaws wide open, aiming to firmly grasp one of the splayed wings of Jaydan as he reaches to jab into Ophelia's side. With any luck, my teeth with hold, and I can jerk him off balance. My jaw locks shut, with or without a wing in tow, and I drop my left wing harshly to swing my body around in the air, back legs preparing to meet with the soil below. I skid in a mess of sand, plumes of orange swirling in the air. My eyes lock onto the blue figure of Jaydan as wind whips around me madly as my blood boils with rage. The air around Jaydan begins to condense, pushing inward toward his body, like invisible claws holding him and making movement more difficult. My mouth snaps open to release a command it would be wise to heed, "Enough!"

A quiver ran through his body as he felt the brief resistance of her flesh, and then the sweet release as his horn cut into her. Crimson went nicely with black and blue.

Hooves skimmed over red dirt; a sea of dust as he paused to realign himself with the troll. She was facing him now though, a different look in her eye. He grinned in response, preferring this cold intent over the coward as she lowered her blade to him. It was much worthier to face one like this - but he would kill her no matter her resolve.

His own horn lowered and he surged into a galloping charge, intending to play a game of chicken with her. Would she stand her ground, or flinch at the last moment and let him run his weapon into her ribs? He certainly didn't care if her steel punctured his chest. He'd die if he must, it would be easier then, honorable then.

One. His hoof clipping the earth. It flicked back in his cloven hooves like shrapnel.
Two. His neck shuddering as the impact of the stride ran up the length of his form.
Three. A deep breath in, so he could let it out right before goring. It was always best to exhale with strikes.
Four. Kri assaulting him from above, intercepting them just before striking.

Her teeth latched onto his wing and toppled him sideways like a tossed foal. His eyes grew big, completely unawares of the bird from above. Hooves slapped each other as legs bowed and his shoulder rolled into the ground. The rest of him soon followed, skidding to a messy halt in which he snapped back to his feet, unwilling to be downed.

Red dust coated him like a bloody pepper. He could feel the grit between his teeth. It made him spit, a growl shaking from his chest. "WHY ATTACK?" he blurted out at Kri not long after her voice scathed the wind. Caught somewhere between reality and dream now Jaydan stalked over to her and Ophelia, all sense of murder gone from him though.

"The troll!" He flailed his wings wildly, exasperated with them both for interrupting.

K R I the R E S O L U T E
it's not the petty imperfections that define us, but the way we hold our hearts.

I release the air, allowing Jaydan to move as the murder dissipates form his eyes. After all, my grab at his wing had successfully toppled the gelding as if he had been nothing but a small foal. I would like to note this for further use when battling such winged opponents, but the opportunity rarely came about. Most of those with wings were my kin, residing her under my rule. This was nothing but an unfortunate circumstance I would rather forget and not relive. It was not in my nature to hurt a fellow herdmate, and even as the stallion bounces of covered in red dust, I am regretful.

However, Ophelia, the mare of pristine white had already rushed to my side at the moment of escape, and I stood before her, shorter and stouter, but with a deadly look of seriousness as I peer out at Jaydan. As the gelding approaches, a roar erupting from his chest, I extend a protective wing across the body of Ophelia, but it turns out to be an unnecessary action. Whatever demons had taunted Jaydan into attacking his own herdmate had vanished, and his eyes had begun to see more clearly.

My face remains an immovable stone, though, even as relief washes over my body and I let down my feathered appendage to rest easily on my back.

"It is alright, Ophelia," I say reassuringly, speaking in an uncharacteristically soft tone, my blue eyes not leaving the form of the blue jaybird who stalked forward. This word "troll" began to be tossed around entirely too much for my taste. This blue gelding, it seemed, was completely fucking mad if he thought that the elegant figure of Ophelia resembled the gnarled creature I associated with a troll in my mind. I snort heavily, expelling the red dust that mingling in with my lungs in the aftermath of the scuffle. So much kicked up dust over some hallucination. I could almost die of exasperation with the folly of the situation, but instead I remain standing tall, looking at Jaydan with clear blue eyes.

Even if I was confused, it was obvious that this gelding was either suffering from his past or was trying to cover up attempted murder. Were it not for the frantic words of Ophelia, I might have thought the latter. "Jaydan," my voice is strong but still calm, trying to retain some of the softness granted to the unicorn mare. "You were attacking Ophelia, not a troll." I swing my head back in a motion toward the wounded and bleeding side of the girl before looking back expectantly. "Look for yourself."