She's mad, but she's magic. There's no lie in her fire.

The opponents she chose could have been listed as and argument for her madness: Hector, Gaucho.… And now she chose Archibald? Was it a testament to her towering courage, her brave heart, that she wanted to test and train herself against the best? Or was it a death wish?

She smelled the blood that came dripping from where his own armor had cut him; a sickly metallic scent that should had given her a triumphant thrill. As it was, she was only just fighting her way to thinking like the grown Sultana again instead of the terrified filly and was only allowed the brief space of time to recognize the smell, to know what it must mean, and then her head felt like it must have been split in two.

Two of the spikes of Archibald’s armor raked her throat, taking advantage of the spot left bare by armor that now seemed so flimsy and worthless compared to his. Blood pooled and dripped from the twin lines, streaking down her chest. She didn’t know it, couldn’t feel it, for almost at the same instant his wolfshead helm and raised to slam into the underside of her bladed headpiece. Her head was wrenched upward, pulling harshly on the muscles in her neck while her lower jaw felt the bruising slap of the metal. But the ringing, oh the ringing of the sheer impact and the violent clang of steel against steel. Her head was vibrating, inside it’s metal cage and the awful noise was ripping it in two right between the ears and a shriek ripped itself from her lungs.

She also happened to be falling.

She had already been perched on two legs in her rear and force that was the Dauntless had pitched her over. In this instant, his selection of this most hated battleground was what saved her. For a pegasus, or indeed any horse, to fall flat on their back could have meant a whole host of permanent injuries and shattered bones but the thick tangle or branched and bramble almost seemed to catch her. The mess of wood still took it’s due, however…She was jabbed and poked and prodded, gouged by thorns and a dozen smaller branched that snapped loudly under her weight and scraped their pointy broken selves along any exposed piece of leg or side. She had, with the help of that most loathed-ally managed to shift to horsed before her bloody earthen form hit the ground.

“FUCK!” It was rage that tore through her next, something primal and angry when again she was hit by magic she had no match for. It had to be magic because nothing else, not even her many new injuries, could have kept her from leaping back into the fight. She strained every muscle, grunting and adding to the thick lather of sweat that had formed across her body, but her limbs, her whole body was too heavy, to dense her to move. She was build for speed, for endurance, not for lifting bones that had turned to stone Fucking trapped?! the outrage was worse than any fear. The anger and humiliation that she was now a damn sitting duck was worse to the proud battle-mare. She was the Sultana of Dragon’s Throat, she was the Sunspear, and now she was helpless! She screamed again, all rage and fire, “LET ME UP YOU COWARDLY COCKSUCKING BASTARD. I’LL TEAR OUT YOUR MOTHERFUCKING LUNGS FOR THIS!” She didn’t stop there, but spewed forth a string of obscenities, each fouler than the last. Her outrage pulled at her companion, and in and instant her abandoned the bitch (narrowly missing a snap of her jaws) to attack the master. Talons reached for his eyes, anything to force him back, to hold off an attack on his beloved Meg while she was immobilized. He dived, clawed and retreated, staying as high as he could and trying to remain out of reach after each strike so as to draw Archibald away.


Inch by inch she moved, second by second as the eagle tried to occupy the stallion. ten seconds, twenty? with each movement started to return to her but the strain of her weighted bones had near exhausted them. Half blinded by the pounding pain in her head and the sweat the stung her eyes, Megaera managed stand, and stumble forward toward where only sound led her. She’d used this trick on Hector once, though with more speed and less weight. Teeth lashed out, biting at feathered heels as she though to shove her increased weigh into him. These giants of battle could fall just as easy if their own weight could be turned on them. She’d see how he liked the ground.

“The Sunspear Speaks.” 
PC: 3/3
WC: 792
Summary: Archi scraped her neck and smacks her head with his. She falls back into the thick branches, head ringing and is then hit by Archi's magic. Meg is immobilized so Gwahir abandons his fight with Loretta to law at Archi's eyes and try to taunt him away from Meg. Slowly she gets up and slowly stumbles toward where she thinks Archi might be and tries to bite his legs from under him and knock him off balance using the added weight of his fading magic.