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09-28-2015, 02:36 PM
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Rikyn
She wastes more breath insulting me than my shoulder drips red and thick upon the foliage below, my backward held ears flattening further in an attempt to drown out her attempts to goad me into wasting my own energies on words for her. My main interest at this point is find a way to slip out of the battle, the discovery that she is not a cruel draconic murderess distraction enough, especially now that I am cognizant enough of reality to know that there was never even a body. The only blood which floods my senses is our own, mine more strongly marking the cool spring air, no unknown unicorn lying upon the clearing floor as had seen when first I’d charged; in what brief glimpses I can manage, I gather what my nose already tells me. She likely was never a dragon, and there certainly is no dead unicorn in this clearing. Any hostility towards the mare which lingered is immediately lost on my foolishness, embarrassment and the pain of my many wounds driving my thoughts away from battle and to a place of respite, where the bleeding perforations along my shoulder might knit shut and begin to heal. I feel blood weep from my shoulder with each steady pulse of my heart, and with knowledge of my fatality ever present in my thoughts, we string together in battle; my horn drags along her haunches, the smell of fresh blood meeting my nostrils, the sound of her screaming loud as my hooves make contact with her muscular thigh. My narrowed gaze trains on the tree line, planning a route of escape from the accidental battle (I’d rather die than apologize) as I run alongside her flank, hooves landing on the leaf strewn earth with a heavy thud, the smell of soil wafting upwards with their cloven touch. Unsteadily we both move in our blood dance, my left foreleg hot and sticky with life’s wine, the same shoulder aching from the multiple other wounds she’d delivered to damn near the same location with a sinister accuracy. An obvious limp marks every movement, the leg pleading with each step for rest – but there is no time as the sound of hooves whistling through the air meets my backward turned ears, the thump of her little indigo daggers striking my flesh a split second prerequisite before the pain of the new bruise blooms to life, the tender flesh where my rump curves down towards my leg, low and agonizing; blessedly, her second buck fails to touch me as the first, the whisper of air breezing past my hocks the only hint she had tried. Intent on ending the battle, however, aware that I feel rather faint in the head from blood loss, I surge forward towards the tree line, hoping to disappear into the shadow and away from the fight while she turns about to face me once more. [ Closing Defense :: 490 words Summary: Rikyn takes her first buck just above the left hock where his bum eases down into his leg, on the left side. He then moves forward into the trees and tries to escape the fight. ^^ OOC: It was super fun! Thank you for the fight and I hope to get to spar with you again, Noella. :3 Also I'm super sick so I'm sorry if this post is sorta poopy. :( ]  |
@Official
