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03-26-2015, 10:33 PM
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Bucephalus
There's something just magical about flight. Period.
-Graham Hawkes Oh, such spice this one had! Her taunting only made him burst out laughing, shaking his head slightly. All was fair in love and war; he was the taunter, not one to be taunted. They had little, if any effect upon him, and thus he had no intentions of taking his armor off for a 'fair fight'. Please, the armor made the fight a bit more even. Perhaps. "At least my dam taught me how to look presentable. I've seen diseased rats that look better than you. I pity your mother, she must have been such a horror it's a miracle you exist." Okay, now he was insulting, but it mattered little. His blood was boiling and he wanted her angry, to loose control and make her defeat inevitable. She charged, teeth bared and his lips pulled back in a sneer. Was she to do the same tactic again? His neck muscles tensed, and he began to rear, intending to tear at her ear this time. Then the mare did the unexpected, and her entire head came swinging at him like a wrecking ball. Had he not begun to rear it would have hit his wing, as it was her head slammed into his shoulder, pain thudding through his chest and ribs as the blow knocked him over, his legs sprawling out to keep his weighted bulk from crashing to the ground. However something in his left leg went 'pop', and the leg buckled beneath him as the mare whirled on her hooves. Seeing the oncoming danger the black tucked his rump and dropped his rear, feeling her hooves clip across the top of his hip, leaving a stinging pain that had his teeth grinding. Quickly he swung his head, mimicking her earlier action in hopes of slashing his horns across her rear. Ignoring the pain in his body the Morningstar lunged to stand up, teeth bared. Quickly he limped away, exaggerating the severity of his limp. Oh, it hurt like a bitch, and the breath had been knocked out of him at the very least, but it was hard to draw air into his lungs. He took stock of his injuries, cataloguing them as he circled the mare. His right shoulder was stiff, his right leg not quite obeying his commands, and something on his left leg continued to ache with a sharpness bordering on bad pain. Great. The bitch was going to PAY, pay for her insolence, pay for trying to cripple his wing. With a roar he rocked back on his haunches then sprang at December, horns lowered and aimed towards her side. Yet at the last moment he jerked his head to the side, so instead of a chance at goring her it might slash at her. He didn't want the bitch dead... yet. Attack: 2/3 Word Count: 468 according to wordcounter.net Summary: December's head hits Bucephalus hard on the shoulder as he rears, bowling him over. He manages to catch himself before he can hit the ground, straining a muscle as he did so. Her kick grazes across his rump, and from his position kneeling he swings his head at her, hoping to hit her rear. Then he gets to his feet, exaggerating his limp as he moves away a bit to take stock of his injures before launching himself at her, intending to slash the horns of his armor across her side. Tag: @[December] Notes: So so sorry this took forever, I know you wanted a quick spar x3 |
Pixel by Aud
