the tempest of an unrelenting sea

Scaled ears twitched against their pinned residence amid her ridges, lithe legs stuttered in their long and ground-covering trot. Was that a challenge that rent the gentle breeze rippling across these mirrored salt flats?

Too large eyes glared into the darkness, reflective retinas well adjusted for low-lighting; though, usually, this low-lighting was beneath the waves. It was odd to feel the adrenaline ripple through her above the surface. Here, there was no cushion of water, no purchase for her webbed hooves in the air; there was no slowing of movements by the thickness of the sea, nor negation of gravity by its buoyancy.

But, still…

Still, despite her inexperience fighting out of the water, her agile legs twisted and carried her towards the source of the bugle and spray of sandy water. There was an anger in her that had not been satiated by the fall of the Tigress. Vjanta’s death had been too sudden, and the seahorse had had too little blood on her bladed horn to feel truly vindicated. And her anger had grown, with each thwarted attempt to return to her home beneath the waves. It was gone. She was alone. And furious.

These gods— how dare they steal her from her culture. Yes, they killed the bitch of a Tigress. But now— a harsh snort tore from her ridged nostrils as unblinking eyes of yellow and aqua find the monolith of a man. The edges of her large vision saw flashes of moonlight on scaled wings, which drew a glow from her aqua stripes. She did not trust anything of the air; predators lurked there.

But the wings were small, and so her eyes were trained upon the skulled face and red eyes of the hulking stallion before her. Ridges raised in expectation, sharp fins of her face flared in warning to the demon-eyed beast. Though her head lowered and her sharpened teeth bared slightly, there was a hint of excitement amid her alien, fierce features. She had spent so much time fleeing, seeking asylum. She had missed the passionate dance of battle.

Her tail vibrated, surprising herself as the barbs rattled through the cool air— they did not make such a noise beneath the sea. Though, unknown to her, they no longer held their poison. Helovia had stripped her of that gift. “You call for a fight?” Her throaty voice growled, eyes flashing dangerously with the thrill of combat.

Unblinking eyes scraped over his body, assessing and measuring as they always did. He was larger, heavier, and presumably adjusted to fighting on land. She was not. Her lithe form and webbed hooves were created for aquatic battle. But, as a warrior, she did not back down from this man or this challenge.

“Tiam lukon,” mother tongue hissed from her lips, guttural for a mare. An ear tilted to the skies, listening for the tell-tale sound of whistling wings. And then she was a blur of sand and teal, webbed hooves dragging and spraying water, as her haunches swung around to the right towards the hulking, black stallion. Sharpened edges of her hind hooves struck out towards his chest and left shoulder— but it was her barbs that held the bite of her attack.

Her long tail curved, swinging the tip like a club towards the underside of his face. The top was protected by the mask, but the juncture of jaw and neck was tender and vulnerable to the sharp barbs of her tail.

This was her place. This felt right.

WC: 591
A: 1/3
D: 0/1
Damage Tracker: --
Summary: Sassy Aquila swings her haunches to double barrel Vol in the chest/shoulder and aims the barbs of her tail at the underside of his neck/jaw.
*Tiam lukon = "Then fight" or "to fight"