Almost like it was choreographed, the two ricocheted off of each other and stumbled in opposite directions. Every step that put pressure onto Gaucho's left shoulder continued to cause a twinge to pang and twang and reverberate through his leg. Just what had happened? He had never felt a muscle cramp or pull quite like this, assuming that had been the cause. His joints felt cold, like blood was being cut off, and as it slowly was forced back in by the movement of his leg as he regained his balance, felt prickly and static-y.
But what was even more surprising than the weird pain in his shoulder, was that the boy was actually a girl. As Ros sputtered and spat and blinked her eyes, still moving away from him, he had a brief moment to look at her. She was stocky and stout, with odd stripes that almost looked like they were draped over her back. Weird tentacle looking things sprung near her ears (in his mind, Mara indicated that it was actually bits of hair, but Gaucho didn't believe her. Who would wear their hair like that?), and in the center of her forehead were two sort-of fused together horns. Nothing about this picture looked even remotely feminine.
But the girl obviously had balls.
The brief moment ended as Ros turned her face blindly in his direction, shooting off a bolt of lightning. Gaucho hardly had time to react: he spun on his hind-end meaning to lurch away, but was far too slow. Magical bolts travel faster than pivoting Gaucho's, apparently. Her bolt struck him square on the ass, causing Gaucho to pin his ears, and launch his back legs up and outwards reflexively. He had been shocked one before - by the stallion Note. He remembered being surprised by the fact that electricity burned, although that foreknowledge hardly helped him deal with the pain that flared through his rump. Now that pain was bleeding through his hind-end, he realized the bolt had hit more of his right thigh than his tail bone, but the entire area was suddenly on fire and pulsing with pain. With a squeal of discomfort, Gaucho turned around to face Ros again, in time to see another bolt fly his way. The combination of her clumsy aim and his painful prancing around saved him from a second assault, though the bolt did singe the hair on his tail which produced a disgusting aroma.
Wanting to favour both his front left leg and right hind, Gaucho leaned slightly to the left, fanning his wings outward to aid with balance while he let his right leg continue to scream in pain. Ears still pinned, and not wanting the boy girl to come any closer, Gaucho decided that if she wanted to play the let's throw magic around game, he would happily oblige. "Hey Kid-" He called through clenched teeth - and although his voice revealed the pain he was in, he actually sounded fairly amused. "- Like bears?" Fire poured in a stream from his antlers, creating two massive shapes - nearly the size of a large pony each - on the ground before him. They morphed and swayed until the shape of two bears became apparent, composed entirely of fire. Coal-coloured eyes bore out of molten red faces as the bears raced forward. The creatures moved quickly, unburdened by whatever physical laws would normally apply to their flesh-and-bone counterparts, and moving as a single unit of fire instead. They moved towards Ros, angling slightly and meaning to come at each of her shoulders to force her back and give Gaucho a reprieve.
The bears snarled and lunged, paws outstretched meaning to burn her with claws made of fire. They aimed for her shoulder and eyes, roaring with voices that sounded like explosions.
As the creatures moved forwards, Gaucho gently shifted the weight back and forth, alternating between putting pressure on his front left leg and back right. His front left was almost free of the buzzy static-y feeling, and now simply felt stiff. His right hind however, while able to support weight, was clearly burned. Where her bolt had struck had singed the skin away and charred the flesh beneath. Clear liquid dripped out of the inch-wide burn mark, revealing raw bloody skin. He could move well enough now, but his right thigh felt tight, and each step felt like it was allowing a knife to cut at the wound.
Ears pinned and flaming wings outspread, he waited to see what the kid would do.
Still, the WildFire had a smirk on his face.
WC: 765
Attack: 2/3
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[JUDGED] No One Talks About Fight-Club
