Isopia’s attacks miss often. And for all of her emotionlessness, she does feel frustration. Its roots are simply more academically planted, as opposed to those around her, who often feel frustration as an emotional response. Her frustration however, was truly just that: frustrated actions. Was it her body, or her magic which consistently misjudged distances? Why was it that this body, conceived and grown to achieve balance, failed and faltered so often? It wasn’t like she flailed at the world and somehow expected her misguided attempts to one day just consolidate into something useful - every created rock and every instance of her strength was adjudicated in her mind and considered. She attempted to improve upon each of her failures and yet …. they continued to mount. Why? She had never sparred in the Blood Falls before, but the setting was not so different as to be the entire culprit. After all, the afternoon dappling of sunlight through the trees was just like the regular Falls. And although the water here ran crimson, it was not markedly different from the lakes and pools that flooded her home.

Putting aside these questions until later, Isopia focused on the task at hand.

Having never been in an aerial battle before, the idea of using her wings to evade Kaj’s charge did not even occur to her, and so instead the girl prepared herself for impact. Not wanting to endure more pain through her already damaged right side, Isopia swung her massive body to the right, allowing Kaj’s hooves to strike her squarely in the chest. Not for the first time, the girl had to stifle the sound of a pained wheeze escaping her lips. The air that rushed from her system, expelled by Kaj’s force, was not something she could control. However the whine of her own weakness, was.

Her large hooves skittered backwards, and she felt water begin to coat her ankles as she was forced to retreat blindly into the pool. The imagery of the earthen child, death marked from birth, standing in a pool of crimson was likely lost upon Kaj who was lunging forward and away from her. He out of any that she knew, might have found the imagery poetic, as might Isopia if she could have seen herself. As it was, all Isopia could see were stars haphazardly coating her vision as two welt-like points of pain lingered on her chest.

Your turn, her inner voice reminded her once again. Internally Isopia nodded, pleased with herself that at least this part of a spar - this physical call and response - was clear to her. Little did she know the I attack, then you attack rhythm she was used to could be easily disturbed. It didn’t even occur to her that, as she forced herself to move forward out of the crimson waters, that Kaj might yet attack her again.

On long and lanky limbs, Isopia pulls herself after Kaj. As he wanted, her muscles burn as her hooves sink into the sand. Not only is her body a foreign ally, but it is a woefully un-athletic one. Isopia spends her days thinking, not training, and so screaming limbs are added to her myriad of bodily pains. Her nostrils flare as they suck and expel air. Her nose tucks towards her bruised chest as she makes her way over the small knoll and onto the grass. Lashing out from this position yields only one option: her horns. Without much grace or fluidity, Isopia threw herself to the left (continuing to favour her wounded right side), to try and strike out at Kaj’s right hip, or flank. With her nose still curled to her chest, she thrust upwards, hoping that one of two horns on that side of her head would be effective against the muscles of his thigh or flank. She didn’t know what it would be like, to try and inflict damage (or mitigate it) using her horns, and so her thrust was hard and far from careful. Would it tear him open? Or would it yield merely a flesh wound?

The girl had no idea.