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04-18-2015, 03:40 PM
Aithniel
The first flame burned gloriously, but the second flame burns cold.
The first flame burned gloriously, but the second flame burns cold.
For the daughter of the Sun God, Aithniel was anything but warm. In a way, fire could be cold. Light could be cold. The stars overhead that shone and shimmered offered no heat when the sun was absent, and she was the same – a flake of ash from fires long since dead. Cool, she watched, offering no response to the grin on her bay features. Though small in stature and young in age, Aithniel was anything but a child, and she refused to be treated as such with trivial expressions and the chastising (but good natured) way of adults. Yes, she was eager. Who wouldn’t be? Thus, she only nodded with a professional but excited air, and she blinked stony eyes as she waited for her opponent to tuck away the barely-feathered bird creature. Childhood had disappeared the day she was born, eluding her forever, and she found herself wondering what Rikyn, Erebos and Adelric were doing in the north. Certainly the fire prince following in his father’s steps…
Aithniel sighed, watching her the mare turn to her, saying that she was ready. Being told twice was unnecessary. Seconds later, she threw herself into the fight, no words passing from her lips in acknowledgment. Why speak verbally when action would speak louder? Jaws open, she lunged, feeling the edge of her incisors scrape along Meg’s nose, but they did very little harm. No taste of coppery blood pooled on her tongue, but she did feel her solid horns collide with another bone. Only later did she discover that she had hit Meg’s forehead, such was the nature of her equid vision. A small sliver of satisfaction flitted in her heart, but it was easily consumed by the inner rage – a slow burning fire that kept her legs moving through the darkest shadows and cruelest nights. Otherwise, emotion was meaningless, cast aside for the sake of this spar.
The fire child was too young, perhaps, to understand that passion could fuel a fight: that when her body failed, her heart could battle in her stead. Perhaps she did not think she possessed a heart at all, or maybe it was just hiding. Whatever reason, it was locked away tightly, and she lifted her gaze, eyes sweeping analytically over her opponent’s form and feeling numb. Megaera was taller, but only slightly. She was a similar build, differing only slightly. A quick glance was not enough to separate out their component parts into easily differentiable skills, but if there was one thing Aithniel noticed right away, it was that she was indeed faster. Maybe not by much, but it was something, and she would use it to her advantage as much as she could.
With wings outstretched from her efficiently fast halt, she let her hooves touch the ground again, seeing the way Megaera’s body coiled for a counter attack. Aithniel tried to back away, but ironically and in a sharp counterpoint to her previous deductions, Meg was faster. The bay’s shoulder hit square between her shoulders in the center of her chest, knocking the breath clear out of her lungs. Cloven hooves slid across the ground as she was shoved back, gasping for air against the sharp pain of screaming sternal muscles, and she blinked in confusion at the speed with which this counter attack was struck. Okay, maybe she was faster, but Megaera was more experienced? Lucky even? Aithniel didn’t really know the answer to this, but she didn’t have time to figure it out.
Straining to breathe against her tightening chest, she tucked left wing to her side and shoved her body weight over; hoping to catch Megaera’s left side as she presumably passed by. In closer quarters given Meg’s successful strike, Aith hoped to at least knock her off balance by shoving into her hips, but she would not be surprised if she missed. The timing would have to be perfect, and that was up to fate. Unwilling to go down without trying again, Aithniel shifter her haunches in what she assumed was Meg’s direction and lashed out with her back legs, sending cloven hooves firing like rockets in her direction. Wings now outstretched for balance, she inhaled sharply, testing the capacity of her lungs and ignoring the stinging sensation with each breath. To keep her back safe, she jumped forward again, pushing down with her wings in hopes that she would create some distance, one, silver eye trained over her shoulder at Meg.
[[(2/3) (745 words)
- Aithniel takes the full hit from Meg and can't breathe D:
- tries to throw her weight to the side to catch Meg off balance
- Kicks out behind her to try to snag Meg wherever she ends up
- Tries to create distance by lunging away ]]
But burn down our home
I won't leave alive
Please tag me in everything!
