I'm screaming at the top of my voice.
Give me reason but don't give me choice</style>
"Itches." Gaucho snarled flatly as he glided, to which Mara only laughed in her reptilian way. It didn't bother him that Sohalia was making him do this. It didn't bother him that they were matching (although dressing up Ivezho and Rhoa seemed a little unfair, given that they were too young to protest). He didn't even mind that Mara (who was supposed to be on his side) had helped her.
It just bothered him that it itched.
Sohalia had spent the better part of the afternoon smearing sap all over Gaucho's body, and pushing white moss that she had found onto it. "It will look like stuffing!" She told him sweetly as she worked, causing Gaucho to have to bite his tongue, lest he tell her just where she should stuff it. He had been patient enough, only flinging Mara from his neck a handful of times as she wove red string into his dark mane. "Gaucho already have hair." He protested mildly, snapping his tail which was already full of course red yarn. This was of course ignored by both females attending to him. Buttons were stuck to his spiked collar, red paint smeared across his dark lips, and a black tie knotted around his neck. When she was finished, Sohalia allowed Mara to slither onto her neck, so that both could step back and admire their handiwork. Sohalia was similarly adorned with yarn, red paint, and bows (apparently she and Mara had awoken early to do this).
Grumbling, Gaucho stretched his flame-tipped wings and shook his shoulders to ensure that he could still move. He could, but the yarn tied into his forelock kept annoyingly falling into his eyes. With a grunt, he looked down at the pale mare, not appearing nearly as cross as he was.
"Go now?" He huffed, already turning away from her. Sohalia merely nodded with a patient smile. "Yes, yes. Have fun."
As the dun flew he constantly tossed his head, trying to rid the yarn from his vision. Mara, enjoying this entire process, did absolutely nothing to assist him. He knew vaguely where he was going and assumed he would be able to identify his opponent by whatever absurd outfit he/she were forced to wear (the thought hadn't even occurred to Gaucho that some might enjoy dressing up). Following the creek, Gaucho dipped lower until he was only about 10 feet off the ground. Ahead, his gaze locked onto a horned shape. He cared little about the costume the tall male wore. Instead, his stormy gaze fixated upon the dual horns that stemmed from his forehead, and how they seemed to split into multiple points. He had fought yewwneekorns before, but none with a horn such as that. He would have to be wary.
With a loud battle cry, Gaucho's flame-tipped wings snapped downwards thrusting him forward towards Panzram. He knew if he simply flew at him, the white-splotched stallion would keep his horn pointed at him or possibly rear to try and gouge him with it. At least, that's what Gaucho would do. Lowering himself down gradually, his legs began to gallop in the air so that his forward flight momentum would not be lost once his hooves touched down. Sinking into the springy grass, Gaucho's wings gave one final beat before folding to his sides to reduce resistance as he rocketed towards his opponent. Flames erupted from his feathers, hurtling in a widening arc towards the unicorn. Should his costumed-opponent try to use his horn against him, Gaucho would return the favour: the tines of his antlers would surely be able to catch the forked horns that were liable to come his way. Or so he hoped.
He tried to angle himself towards Panzram's left shoulder, although the angle wasn't very wide. Just enough so that their collision wouldn't be head on. As he neared (following in the wake of his flames), Gaucho's head turned inwards, hoping to snag the steed's horns should they be angled his way, or, should he stand there dumbly, the left side of his face. Only having reigned in his speed enough to aim his horns, Gaucho's larger frame pressed onwards, leaning in to the left to hopefully collide with the left shoulder of his opponent, transferring his momentum into a shove, and perhaps piercing the flesh with his spiked collar (now adorably covered in buttons). The sudden stop would likely hurt his shoulder as well, but the WildFire didn't care.
If he had to wear this ridiculous outfit, there was no way he was returning home anything but victorious.
Besides. A hard enough shove, and some of the moss might even come off.
Itches.
WEATHER - It's a nice clear and mildly sunny birdsong day, 10am.
SETTING - A grassy field that goes fetlock high, forgiving and not too wet. Some flowers and trees are around, a creek cuts through in one area near two trees.
WC: 781
ATTACK: 1/2
SUMMARY: Gaucho is dressed as raggedy andy! He has white moss glued to his body using sap, red yard tied in his mane and tail, buttons attached to his spiked collar, and a black tie around his neck.
He runs towards Panzram, using his magic to create an arc of fire in his direction. Gaucho assumes Panzram will try and use his horn to attack, and so he angles his head to the left to try and catch the horns in his own antlers. He then tries to stop himself by slamming his left shoulder into Panzram's, hopefully spearing him with this spikes as well.
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The 90's called... [Grave Champ - Panzram]
