He gritted his teeth (unfortunately for his hurt mouth) against the feel of Elsa’s face giving way beneath his hooves— he hadn’t fully thought through this attack. He didn’t want to gravely injury his Queen in this spar… He only wanted the two leads to form a mutual respect for each other— both on the battle field and off.

Caving in Elsa’s skull was a far cry from earning respect.

So he winced, eyes widening as gravity pulled his great height and his hooves, solidly connecting with their intended target. Ivory hooves became stained, as did her snowy cheek, red blooming on white. The zephyr squawked irately from his perch— but it was unnecessary, the Elephant knew his mistake. Cream, black-rimmed ears tilted backwards as he awkwardly landed, trying to shift most of the impact to his un-injured, left foreleg. Though the landing still jarred his right knee and it instinctively bent, resting his toe against the ground.

Dark blue eyes searched for her own, “Elsa, I—” the words die on his lips as he finds unfocused, crazed eyes in a face that is lunging towards him. Again, he tried to scramble backwards, away from her maniacal approach, but the torn muscles behind his right stifle finally gave way, unable to support his weight or movement. So he could only halfway back out of the punishing path of Elsa’s hooves. One missed his face entirely while the other skidded down the front of his massive, black horn, making an unearthly noise and leaving a bruise on his nasal bone.

He hesitated as she landed from her attack, uncertain if he should mount a response. But he felt (no, he knew) that his pity, his sympathy, would be unwelcome and even shameful to the wrathfully proud pegasus. So he squared his colossal shoulders, dark gaze sweeping her body once again as he tallied her wounds. The right side of her face, her right wing, and now…

Now tucked his neck to his chest, ducking his right shoulder and throwing it towards the mare’s chest. Given his great size, compared to hers, it would be enough of a blow that she would not consider it a restrained attack. But he did not use his hooves or horn— which were his massive weapons. And, given his injuries, the attack could not use all of his strength, so at least he would not crush her if she did not dodge his attack.

A grunt sounded from his barrel as he pushed off his left side, unfortunately baring his injured right side once again to the Icebound. Though he’d rather do that than grievously injure the Queen… Yet, he could not help but wonder if the snowy mare would reciprocate in kind were the roles reversed. Given the innate anger she seemed to harbor, he was generally certain she would not.

He sighed as he readied himself for impact, partially hoping that she would entirely dodge his attack. Yet another, more sinister part (that he so often tried to ignore) hoped that he would hit her the full brunt of his bulk. Perhaps that would knock the sadness out of her. Or perhaps it would push the wild look over hers over the edge. He tightly shut his eyes as he fought against these thoughts, once again gritting his strong jaws. Though the pain of his bruised mouth quickly made him regret such an action.

They would most assuredly need to chat after this spar. Apologies, and explanations, were needed.

A: 3/3
WC: 587
Damage Tracker: Bruised back of right knee; Partially torn muscles back of right stifle; bruised/pinched inside mouth; bruised nasal bone.
Summary: He throws his right shoulder against her chest. Great fight, Klare! :D @Elsa

He paid for his sins. He was saved.

But some sins haunt us no matter how much we pay.