Ashamin didn't realize until he landed that he had it all wrong.

He stood there on all fours, his forelegs shaking from the exertion of wildly kicking out at nothing, (as if he had a right to be standing at all what with all the weakness he was putting on display,) and he turned to see Rikyn on the ground. But not on the ground where Ashamin thought he would be, because Ashamin wasn't even sure where anything was anymore. The horn had left the haruspex's body and left an open, gaping hold of a wound. He bled freely, he embodied wooziness. Though the buck knew vaguely that the exodus of the sword had been more painful than he could recall, he also found the moment so sharply distinct that he forgot it entirely. It was as if he was losing time.

Still blinking mud from his vision, he turned to his right to find nothing. Ashamin's sense of direction, quickly becoming infamous for its inadequacy, had failed him once again. In an attempt to strike out at Rikyn's left, he had instead reached for the soldier's right--in an attempt to defend himself with a poorly aimed serious of useless kicks, he had caught nothing in his path. It was a miracle, really, that the Haruspex could catch his balance well enough to not land on his side in the mud.

Ashamin was aware of only a few things: he was in a lot of pain, and somehow Rikyn was on the ground. Had the black and gold boy just slipped? It was tricky footing, to be sure, and it was clearly giving Ashamin a hard enough time. The buck thought he remembered hearing his opponent curse.

The paint snorted, even that faint exhalation sounding twisted and pained as the wound almost seemed to expand with the breath. It was useless: so early on, he was showing Rikyn nothing of the skills he'd hoped to display.

And he didn't see Rikyn stand up, and he didn't have time to react, because at that very moment the damn sun came up. Lochan flashed the picture in the Haruspex's mind over and over in brilliant red and white pastels, to the point where Ashamin felt muddled.

No, Lochan, he thought weakly as he somehow, barely, kept upright. It was too late for this, the nocturnal Haruspex should have been settling to sleep with his companion. But instead, he was serving as Rikyn's own punching bag and squinting to avoid the harshness of the morning light.

Ashamin had spent too many days sleeping, and gotten too used to the dark. The flash of white over the horizon was just enough to distract him from Rikyn's next two attacks, which came in such quick succession that the paint struggled to separate them at all.

First came the kick, a sideways dash of hoof and muscle that came crashing against Ashamin's side and knocked the wind clean out of him. He let out a cry and turned his gaze swiftly away from the light and back to Rikyn, only to find the boy's gold accents just as blinding as the sun. The old, shallow, and almost healed cut from his spar with Caleb tore apart with a new and painful ferocity at the impact, and once again Ashamin found himself bleeding.

He was open, torn, and incomplete. And as if Rikyn's skillful strike with his hind was not enough, as soon as the young soldier got on all fours he bit the haruspex, grabbing a chunk of white flesh as if it were as easy to bite through as a soft ball of snow.

Though the warrior wise one was still sluggish, still bleeding, still hurt, his head swung low and his jaws snapped out of pure reaction. It was instinct, and as Ashamin reached down for the tender patch of shadowy flesh that was Rikyn's left hind, somewhere between stifle and gaskin, he sincerely hoped he'd bite that leg clean off.

There was nothing like three open wounds and a lack of sleep to make a kind man into a mad one.
""

WC: 688
PC: 2/3
Summary: Ashamin lands and splays his front legs to try and gain some balance. Still shocked from the pain on his right, he doesn't move in time to avoid either of Rikyn's attacks; he takes the cow kick to the flank and his wound from his spar with Caleb, a shallow horn-cut, is reopened. He takes the bite to the left hindquarter and Rikyn manages to bite out a chunk of butt. Ashamin tries to bite midway between Rikyn's gaskin and stifle, on Rikyn's left side.
Notes: Rikyn: rolls two 6's. Ashamin: rolls a 1, looks like a failure. He's probably going to want a rematch unless he gets a real good hit in soon... also sorry for my spectacular directional failure in the last post, thankfully it didn't hurt your post and you understood me. I tried to make up for it in this one as best as I could. Lots of muse though? :D

ASHAMIN