"How could you forget me? You are a suitable sparring partner for the likes of me." He offered. It was a compliment. Ilios should expect nothing more, for Caleb is a man of few compliments. Still, words do not continue to transpire between the pair and action begins. Caleb's own hit is successful, leaving him with a high confidence, something that deteriorated after an unfortunate loss against Ashamin. Still, the stallion would grow from the loss. He knew what to work on, improve, perfect. He would be a feared menace soon, they would see. His herd would no longer look at him with disgust from his appendages but stare in awe of his battle prowess. This was a goal he avidly sought.
He would not be the low-life of the herd, not now, not ever.
There was a moment of peace, when he breathed in the salty, humid air. His mane clung to his neck like a spider to a wall. He seemed serene. He was getting prepared to unleash the torrents of anger and determination in each tactical attack.
Caleb remains most unscathed from any sort of attack from Ilios until the boy turns to face him again, head-to-head. A wicked smirk crosses Caleb lips, any sort of guilt for the attacks to soon come from the huge brute, vanished, gone with the nice weather. The beast was released, in every sense.
When Ilios grew airborne, a low chuckle released itself from his lips. What kind of idiot does one have to be to fly in the rain? Those precious oils on the feathers of wings enable us to remain in the air, to fly. When it pours, most, if not all, of those oils are stripped. Caleb would never let the boy live it down if he fell from the sky, such comedy was gold.
Still, though, Caleb's mind refocused on the spar, on those spiked boots that were rapidly growing closer. It is too late to avoid this attack, but he does try to lesson the blow by recoiling sideways, allowing the side of the boots to brush along Caleb's left shoulder. The spikes tear away hair and leave a group of parallel cuts, each about three inches long. The pain is searing at first, but after a moment of the cool rain running down the smooth cuts, numbed.
Caleb, with blood-thirsty vengeance, spun around and chased after the tan boy. Ilios, it seemed from Caleb's point of view, hadn't gained altitude. Thus, Caleb planned to gallop up behind him, lunge into the air, and bite the bitch on his ass.
When he followed through with his plan, it was much more difficult than he had originally thought. Even Henrietta offered a dog-cringe from the sidelines. Caleb's hooves caught in the wet sand, which forced him to work harder to grow any closer to the tan boy. The entire situation was sloppy-looking, it would seem as if Caleb's inexperience was perhaps more evident than before thought. When the stallion hoped he was close enough to Ilios' flying butt, be jumped forwards and upwards at what he hoped was his opponent's left butt cheek. He just wanted his teeth to tear into the boy's flesh, to rip away the tender meat, leave a sting that lasts for days before the pain finally edges away after weeks of healing. Caleb wanted to leave that kind of wound.
After jumping up and hopefully ripping a chunk of flesh from the boy's left butt, Caleb simply stands and waits. The short break is necessary, even though little has been done. Why exert energy running when you can regroup and wait for an opponent that is rather slow, anyways?
"blah blah blah."
attack 2/3 620 words
caleb's shoulder gets cut up, when ilios begins to fly away, caleb follows in pursuit of his butt. he jumps into the air to try to bite ilios' left butt. then, he waits.
sorry for wait, and sorry this sucks ;u; <3 i won't wait as long for the next one, i've just been super busy on weekends and they're really my only time to post
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what happened here? [ilios x caleb]
![[Image: caleb_by_lovelyskylark-d995h4j.png]](http://orig10.deviantart.net/11e2/f/2015/253/1/d/caleb_by_lovelyskylark-d995h4j.png)
