The battleground has its own perks, too. The sand makes for good padding, so heavy footfalls will hopefully not damage joints or tendons. On tired limbs, however, the sand will probably feel like wet mud, sucking aching feet down into its grasp. The puddles are a trip hazard waiting to happen, but save for that, the conditions are ideal for a man of Volterra's bulk. In confined spaces, his lack of agility causes him to suffer; he wasn't bred for tight turns and elegance. Here, his only real danger is forgetting his brakes and slicing himself open on the nearby cliff.

The dappled one breaks into a trot, and Volterra arches his thick neck to swing his gaze after the older male as he's circled like prey. Ah, don't you know I'm the predator here? His colossal hooves shift and he begins to shuffle around on the spot, so as not to allow the horned stallion to flank him. As a result, when Ciceron charges towards him, Volterra is hopefully facing him; the attack comes for him head-on, and the earthen giant braces himself for impact. It looks for all the world like the unicorn is going to use his horn to skewer straight through him, but - oh, the little trickster! Instead he twirls, and hooves sprawl towards the leviathan's chest. The giant flings his weight to his left, gaining purchase on the damp sand and using it to launch himself; Ciceron's double-hooved kick slams hard into his right shoulder as he swerves, creating a muscle-deep bruise that immediately bursts into life beneath his flesh. Pain stabs through him and he feels the area stiffen, which will restrict movement in that leg - not catastrophically, but enough to be annoying.

Anger begins to bubble beneath the stallion's skin. Ah, there it is; a rising volcano. This is what he uses to fight with. This is his weapon, his shield. This is what he channels whenever he fights, to lend greater strength to his blows and anaesthetic to his wounds. His red eyes flash, signalling danger, and each fearsome muscle bunches in frenzied anticipation.

He is the oncoming storm; his temper is a sleeping giant, and it's stirring.

Out of the corner of one blazing eye, he sees the tigress lurking nearby; he sends a mental javelin up to his circling dragon. Vérzés, deal with the cat. Pleasure radiates through their bond, a sick, twisted sort of pleasure as the crimson blood-dragon contemplates murder. His usual prey are deer and rabbits, so the thought of taking down a tiger fills him with the same sort of glee that Volterra feels whenever a mare is nearby. Ruby wings fold and like an angel of death he descends, a bloodied bullet aiming towards Kiara. His jaws open and from them blossoms a beam of frost, which he aims for the tigress' face. He hopes to create ice-burns on her flesh, to cause considerable agony - his dextrous forepaws unfurl and he aims a sharp clawed smack for the left side of her snout, too.

Volterra, meanwhile, throws his weight to his right, swinging around to see Ciceron departing in the aftermath of his attack. I don't think so. With a masculine grunt of exertion, the giant commands a small hummock of ground to erupt directly in front of where he hopes the unicorn is about to stand - it is only knee-height, but he hopes Ciceron will bang both his forelegs against it and perhaps trip over it, too. Either way, the brute's aim is to slow or stop his opponent's departure in the aftermath of the grey's attack, to lessen the distance Volterra has to move to catch him. Sand sprays beneath the titan's hooves as he lunges forwards, sweat beginning to slick on his obsidian flesh from the pain in his leg and the strain of his magic. His stride is slower than usual due to his injury, but like a storming freight train he aims to approach from behind his foe. His colossal chest seeks to slam hard into the smaller stallion's rump to try and send him sprawling forwards, in an attempt to make him trip over Volterra's earth-structure in front of him if he hasn't already. Similtaneously, the black barbarian's teeth bare and he aims a sharp nip for the base of Ciceron's tail, hoping to leave a nasty bruise in his wake.

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@Ciceron ! Vérzés uses frost breath towards Kiara and tries to claw her snout, Volterra uses his magic to lift a knee-height stump in front of Ciceron then tries to slam chest into his rump and bite it.
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