She is just a sucker for the D, isn't she?

Her chest slams into him, and the recoil ignites a dull ache in the area of impact. An occupational hazard of trying to rugby tackle someone twice your weight, she supposes. Her teeth find their mark as well, and she swiftly withdraws her head like a striking snake, so as not to expose her throat for too long in case his horn should aim for it. There's a solid splash as one or more of his massive hooves hit the water, not quite the dramatic tumble she'd dared hope for, but progress nonetheless.

Another snort of amusement erupts from her nostrils as he speaks again, her eyes glittering through their lust-darkened irises. The smirk ghosting across her lips is quickly smothered as she feels a sharp nip against the outside right of her lower neck, and a painful bruise blossoms at the impact point where his teeth collide with her tight flesh. Ouch. She'd been so distracted with his words and his pretty, pretty booty that she'd let her concentration slip, a vital error in any battle. Mercifully, he doesn't gain a grip because her head is tucking at the time, so his teeth only scrape against moving flesh - thus she is not held in place. "And if you keep fighting like this, you may get to find out," she says, one blue eye shutting in a coquettish wink. She hasn't been pure for about seven years, but the notion of a shy, innocent Nyx might just fill his stallion's mind with such lust that he gets weighed down by his own balls like a pair of hairy anchors. She's seen that happen to men in battles with her before. Most amusing, and most fatal - for them.

His hind end begins to pivot to the left, trying to bring them face to face. Here she hopes her superior agility will benefit her, as his size hopefully means he turns like a double-decker bus. The ironheart launches her weight to her left as his meaty side moves away, to try and run alongside him again, right side to right side. As she does, she applies her brakes with the aid of the hard ground below, although her front hooves still splash into the edge of the water before she grinds to a halt. As a result of her movement, his shoulder-barge and horn-jab miss their mark - if he's sticking something into her today, it won't be his horn.

She flings her weight forwards onto her forelegs, whilst her back legs lift upwards and sprawl to the right in a vicious cow-kick. She aims a double-hooved blow for his right side, directly towards the wound she made with her horn. He is already struggling to use that side effectively, so one more blow to it could hopefully spin the battle in the silver's favour. She keeps reminding herself that this is only a spar, and a spar which could actually benefit her more if she loses (it's been so long since she had a man that she's afraid there will be cobwebs on her unmentionables), but her warrior instincts keep overriding her female weakness.

It also occurs to her that this is her first fight for a while without Dominus by her side. She can feel his presence nearby now, like a beast in the shadows, but he makes no attempt to enter the battle. From their mental bond, she can tell that this is no act of negligence on his part - he is trying to help her, by giving her a chance to fight on her own again. It does worry her that she may become too reliant on her magic and companion rather than her own physical prowess, so the lion is probably correct in that it will do her good to spar without his assistance once in a while. She needs to think of his claws and teeth, and her own electrically-charged body, as added bonuses in a fight, rather than things she needs in order to win.

Besides, he knows when to steer clear of her. Whenever there's a chance of the silver getting pounded like the fist of an angry god, he stays well away. He is a feline, after all, afflicted by very catlike jealousy. Seeing her share her body with another man makes rage bubble inside his heart, so he chooses to block it out and pretend that she is his and his alone.