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11-16-2014, 05:27 PM
It was a train wreck of flesh, horns, and egos. Metal armor clanks into the bay’s ribs, while pushing back on the gold, but he was giving no ground. Horned head slices down, and at least one the gold can feel scrapes into the other’s coat. Again, the copper smell slips into the air those hungry lungs claw for, and even for his warnings the gold can’t help but lift his lips in a twisted grin. Oh how good it felt to at last have revenge in his grasp for once, to make another pay for their insolence in pain. He calls it revenge, but in truth it had been a move, on the boggart’s part, that was an eye for an eye, to repeat a saying which had been going around Helovia a lot lately. The gold had taken the same low hit upon Oxy, and his precious snowflake. Of course, the golden would tell you that was a completely separate matter, and had been a necessary evil.
As head swung back out to come straight again and armored shoulder slid out of his ribs, things began to happen very quickly, but to the gold it seemed like ages. All of the gold’s body was feeling the strain. Even in this cold night under the contact of the metal a lathered sweat had arisen, and legs began to feel strained from manipulating his body through the mix of melted snow and mud. The gold was tough though, or so he would lead you to believe. Still, this battle could not go on forever.
A dark shape moved in front of him swinging up. Body jerked back and away, but not before the horns met his metal coat. Horns rattled down against the metal, clinking as it went over the ridges. Ha! Not a scratch hit his golden coat. Wicked grin now turned wild, and though his mind tried to rein in the wave of adrenaline that began pumping through him, it could not be stopped. The entire spar he had been fighting to keep control, having remembered so painfully his loss. But now, with his own personal battle won, symbolized by that black amulet, and successfully making that bay pay for his atrocity of reaching into the gold’s mind, well, that loss seemed more and more like a fleck of a memory.
So, worn and weary as he was, and possibly loosing this battle as he was in our eyes, the gold was, in his mind, ready to send the final blow. Armored legs, having trotted up just past the bay now picked up high and slowed the gold’s gait. The adrenaline that had flood his veins and was pounded through every muscle dampering some of the harsher wounds. His stiff hock, though each muscle complained of their continued use, hopped and skipped along to power his wishes. Bared teeth were not really due to the presence of the bay but the gold’s own frustration with his injured hind slowing him as he turned in front of the bay. The lump pressing against his chest did thin his breath, but so was the sharp cold air and consistent struggling in the snow. So it did slow him as well, again not to his liking, but the gold was on a mission. He was not as completely reckless as before, but there was a new edge to the golden son’s threats.
Coming up on the left of the bay the gold turns his horns away. Cloven hooves danced in the mud and snow slush, it was dangerous, but the gold was blind to the lesson the bay had learned about tricky footing. The gold with renewed trust in his armor to protect him from the bay now seems to dance sideways, his rear coming to turn towards the bay, if he had stood still. Prancing along the side of the gold in a quick step the gold was lucky not to slip in the muck, but his luck wouldn’t last for long. With suddenness the gold’s hooves planted and his head drops. Hind hooves, now aimed, hopefully at the bay’s side or hip, came flying out with tremendous force, even his stiff hock springs out with considerable power. Oh but that golden would once again have to learn harder lessons of battle. Front hooves slip away from each other at holding the gold’s full weight and muscles in his forelegs and chest seize. It holds him but sends pain shooting up his legs, hitting the lump in his chest like an anvil and hammer. Rough hack shoots through his lips, but he was too proud and determined to let it collapse him. So jaw grips tight and weariness like a gong announces to the gold he can go no more.
OOC ::
WC::800
ATK::4/4
INJURIES:: Sore and stiff left hock (worsening) -- Sore chest just above is collar -- Pulled muscles in his front legs
SUMMARY:: Oxy's horns meet Thranduil's armor, and so the gold goes unharmed forward. Feeling empowered to overcome the growing weariness for a moment the gold turns and comes up Oxy's left, but does so sideways, turned away. When he stops and bucks towards the bay's hips or side, but Thranduil's hooves slip and he too pulls muscles in his chest aggravating the hit in his chest.
"speech"
![[Image: 5381546acbe33]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/5381546acbe33)
Feel free to use any force/magic on Thranduil, short of killing him.
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