“Faster than you?” He questioned quietly with a grin, not sure if he could catch up to the quick movements of Ophelia. She wasn’t much smaller than him - just by a couple inches - but the difference in their speed was noticeable. If he did not have the help of his magic she might very well dance circles around him while he was trying to catch up and land a glancing nip or blow with his hooves. All the same, he welcomed the advice that she gave him and took it to heart. From then on he tried to pay more attention to how she moved - trying to figure out what she might try next. He did not think like a warrior, that much he already knew, but he was so willing to learn and knew that she could teach him. In the cool night, his moonlight eyes flashed as he paid close attention to the mare, the mother figure, that was with him, teaching him and guiding him with her soft words and sharp nips.

After the completion of his attack there was a brief window where he felt a little proud, feeling the impact, before he remembered himself. Mesec wasn’t one to cause injury and not worry about the outcome. The concern rushed over him and he turned to see whether she was okay. “Ophelia.” Her name slipped out, quiet like all of his actions. It only got worse, his worry, and with it there was a quick stab of guilt as she seemed to move in more of a stiff manner after his attack landed. Maybe he was imagining things, even by the full light of the moon small things were more difficult to see, but he could have sworn that she winced - her nostrils flaring - as soon as she put weight on that side. She had only nipped him, after all, perhaps he should not have put so much behind his attack. His immediate reaction was to put a stop to this spar, to tend to her injuries now that he knew he could, and see that she was okay.

But she did not stop and he’d defer to her judgement on the matter. If she thought she was okay to continue, Mesec wouldn’t interfere. They had come together to spar, after all.

Only, suddenly, he couldn’t seem to remember where she even was. Hadn’t he just been looking at her? He had been watching the way her slender, pale legs moved so that he could predict what was coming next - thinking she might try a different approach than the last time. He was forgetting his surroundings in the process, forgetting to pay attention to what was around them, and only paid attention to her. Only now she did not seem quite capable of focusing on her either. “Where…” He was searching his mind for where she was, it was as though she had disappeared, he was just looking at her! For a quick, confusing second there was absolutely nothing before a hazy memory of her movement gave him enough warning to jerk away - his left wing unfolding in a quick reflex action to give him balance as he stepped to his right so that her teeth grazed along his skin.

It was then that he remembered Ophelia's magic and understood why he had not remembered where she stood in relation to him. It seemed only fair - one magic trick in response to another.

Thinking quickly, he extended the large, feathered limb further - a loose black coverlet getting caught by the cool night wind as he did so - hoping to catch her on her side. Well, he hoped that he wouldn't do more than buffet her lightly, perhaps with the long flight feathers that would not cause as much damage as farther up the wing with the strong muscles. He did not wish to cause her any more damage than he already had. They were here to spar, yes, but he was unable to shake the fretting and because of that, unwilling to put more effort or strength behind his attack.