To be fair Shadow was not a fighter. Not in the sense where individuals swore themselves to a cause and spent their day training, sparring and honing muscle for the clash of flesh and bone in the ancient dance that once had toppled a kingdom. Her battles had always been of a different kind. The victories celebrated during her stay in the Dragon's Troat? A result of luck and persistence rather than true skill or intent.

In her weakened, ravaged state, was it then strange to think that even the natural instincts would have become dulled, blunted from a lack of use? Or that, in her emaciated frame, the perception of her own abilities far exceeded reality?

It was not an excuse the proud black mare would ever settle for, of course. The prickling needles of guilt and regret she felt at the young stallions squeals of pain at the sand in his eyes was brusquely shoved aside in favor of a faint, distant glimmer of pride. She honed the feeling, cultivated it with the tender care of a gardener towards his favorite flower, because a fighter ought to be content whenever a scheme ended up bearing fruit, right? That she felt no true desire to actually harm this brash, senseless youth was completely irrelevant. Reasonable or not, fair or not; the Blackbird had been attacked and she would defend herself to her last breath if she had to.

It didn't matter either that this idiot was young - wasn't he almost the same age as Kari? It was so hard to judge once they grew to a certain point, and she had missed out on so much of his life - or that she would be more likely to make it out of this uninjured if she turned tail and ran. What mare would flee before as minor a threat as this when she had battled monsters for the sake of her child? What mother would be able to face their son if she lost a scuffle against someone their own age?

It was all a matter of respect, of dignity. Pride was all that mattered, when nothing else remained to fight for.

Raven wings beat in pace with her raging heart to keep her balanced where she stood poised on scrawny hind legs, reluctant to return back to the ground. Perhaps some other attack would have followed if Shadow had been better prepared, more experienced as a fighter, but as it were she didn't have time. Again the colt surprised her, this time with the audacity to attack despite being blinded by stinging grains lodged in the eyes. A squeal of indignation accompanied the whoosh of wind as the mare was forced out of the way of yet another headlong charge, her body gracelessly thrust to the right. It was difficult moving in the loose sand, the shifting ground made every step taxing and draining to someone whose stamina was already low. While on a normal day the thrust (half-leap, rabbit hop or whatever the half-hearted motion could be called) would have been sufficient to bring her out of reach, today it was barely enough to carry her away from the freight-train of brawn without brain headed her way.

Barely, and nowhere near far enough to save her from the snapping, blunt teeth. They clamped down on the soft, loose skin at the base of her left wing, the pain of it a bright, pinching sensation that brought tears of shock and discomfort to her eyes. It was not a blinding pain, not unbearable - she could bear it, would stand there all week if she wanted to - but it mounted and mounted until the aging ladybird in her fury would tolerate it no more.

With an angry squeal Shadow squirmed to rip herself free of the teeth and bucked, hoping that the jerky motion would rattle the stallions brain even if he did manage to hang on. Slapping the wings to distract her assailant, the shadow-mare simultaneously brought her own head forth in retaliation, avenging teeth snaking in to bite the lower part of his wind-pipe where midnight neck merged with the inked chest, or at least the thinly muscled point of the chest where even blunt weapons could deal plenty of pain. It would serve him well, for hurting her! And there, let him savor the sensation of her cracked, dry hoof scraping down the place where his left front shin should be too, just for good measure!

No, Shadow did not wish to harm her opponent, but she wasn't about to let him do as he pleased with either. She would fight, tooth by tooth, taking an eye for an eye - and then may the world be left blind if it came to that!

_________________________

WC: 796
PC: 2/3

Summary: Remains in the rear, wings flapping. Is taken by surprise at his reckless attack and leap to the right, avoiding the tackle. Take the bite to the shoulder, just at the wing joint.

Attempts to rip herself loose, bucks to rattle his brain if he hangs on. Tries to distract him with her wings while aiming a bite to the base of the throat or tip of the left shoulder tip, then tries to rake her hoof down his left front shin for good measure.

@[Artorius]