A whump of air passed from Ricochet's windpipe as her knees dug into his chest, his barrel safe from the position he'd driven at had nearly been head first - ever reckless as Gunslinger said. At least it was a more cushioned spot to take the blow, though it hurt all the same and the force pushed him back a bit. It was enough to make him begin to retreat back to the earth, narrowly missing the clap of her teeth against his ear as she took off grime, perhaps even a tick. How kind of her to groom him when he tried to kill her.

He spun away to his left, teal eyes burning into her as she laughed in his face. Her legs were raw and she thought it was funny? Wary, his ears pressed back, features twisting into a warning as his teeth pinched the air as it it was her eye.

She had reason to cackle.

The greatest fire his angry gaze could start was nothing compared to the sizzling roar that lept up in sporadic shrubs around them. Even that was half of a kitten's mew once he felt the driving teeth of the rain against his hide. The hairs grew black and crinkled into themselves just before ceasing to exist and parting to reveal his dark, weak skin beneath. Steam rose from his back just as a scream tore from his throat.

His body flinched instantly, haunches buckling as he backed up onto them, confusion and terror creating a deadly mix within the volatile stallion. His rage set the dust around him smoking, but it was too wet to manage much and either way it was no salve for the burning intensity along his spine and against his ears. Uselessly he shook his neck and rubbed his head against a foreleg, but it only seemed to spread the ache. With eyes pinched to keep out the worst and feet moving blindly, Ricochet had little sense that she was driving towards him.

Guns came barreling in with a ferocious growl and a clacking bark that deafened like gun fire. The dog's fur kept the worst of the burn out, at least for now, where as the thin coat of Ricochet's peeled off like paper. Yellow teeth flashed in black gums as the canine struck like a snake at the mare's feet. With a body low to the ground and more agile than a horse, Guns was more able to weave in and out by the time it would take her to think of kicking. It was a dangerous game to be sure though - all she would need is luck.

The noise alerted Ricochet, his body whirling and firing out an aimless buck towards her even as he cursed her under his breathe. The initial response of puzzlement had faded; what seemed at first unnatural weather or the likes of bugs was seen to be the witch's tricks, her laughter like a peal of thunder in this wicked storm. He could not tolerate this acidic drenching much longer and figured hurting her would make it stop. Killing her would be the best bet of course.

As back feet tucked back to the ground they bore streaks of red where her hooves meant for his front end had peeled away some hair and hide, further made angry as stray drops of biting rain coated it. Haunches quivered as they bore his weight, Ricochet rolling back neatly on them so that he faced her again. Through the dim haze of his lashes he could see the blur of her frame, though he listened to her breathing, the sizzle of rain on her backside (how did she not ignite alongside him?) and the squelch of hooves in growing mud to lead him. Forward he struck out, teeth leading the charge towards her pretty little nose before his strong hind quarters popped him up in a rear. Ricochet lifted his fore hooves to bash in her head which she likely would have flung away from his teeth and into his aim. The mud was slick but it was thick and bore his weight well, though his haunches shook with the act of balancing.

"Crazy bitch!" he screamed, his pain as continuous as the falling of the rain around them. With each second it burrowed deeper and his hatred wore down like a whittled stick into a nub of anger and awe.