Be careful, Cera, Ilaria murmured from the tree she’d shimmied up to watch the battle. Cera heard it resound inside his head but he didn’t fully understand the implications, the clear concern and deeply rooted fear in her heart that spoke of more than the possibility of him becoming physically injured. Instead of lingering upon it he dove straight forward into the battle, lighthearted and joyous. There were no burdens to carry into the battle, the shadows receding beneath the sunny reunion he’d been presented with. Joy and adrenaline kicked up in his blood, a mischievous grin alight on his boyish face as he saw the flash of surprise on his childhood friend’s face when he lunged for her. He laughed as she ducked beneath his flailing wing to avoid him, losing sight of her beneath the pale obstruction of his own feathers. Cera had no experience with fighting, and he felt simplistically secure in her presence – enough to engage in this dance against her. In a way he was childishly naïve, viewing their interaction as a playful romp rather than something that could hurt. Something that could hurt in ways far deeper than a twinging muscle.
 
The solid thwack of his wing against her shoulder was a gleeful satisfaction, and Cera’s hooves landed solid upon earth once more without any sort of connection. Squeaking happily beneath the effervescent bubbling of adrenaline in his veins, he kicked his heels in an excited little crowhop, hopping away to the left. He lost view of Cirrus in the blur of his own feathers, the natural barrier and downfall of his own species acting against him as he danced to the left to try and reveal her. The sting of teeth glancing without warning off the hard swell of his rib bones shocked a squeal out of his mouth, right wing instinctively lurching higher to reveal the minx that had bitten him and throwing his thin, agile bodice to the left. He was unaware that his constant motion had knocked her teeth against him in a way she hadn’t intended, but Cera had always been a hyperactive, restless soul. Snow kicked up as he sprang away, a cold shock against his hocks that startled his brain into motion. 

Cera had no experience, nothing to draw upon but half-remembered memories of watching Midas or Gaucho spar on the desert sands. He had known pain, so much pain in his short life. His stories were written across his skin in thick scars, and yet he had somehow still miraculously managed to avoid this particular brand of confrontation. Cirrus’ bite was the first wound ever accrued through battle, and Cera didn’t have the slightest clue how to proceed. Scrambling for time and space his legs stumbled beneath him before he was lunging further to the left, trying to get space between himself and his partner, hoping his long-limbed superior speed would help him momentarily evade any other attacks. He didn’t want to run forward like a coward and have her laugh at him, he just wanted some space and clarity of vision!
 
At least until he stopped losing his shit.
 
What do I do?! he yelped towards Ilaria, fumbling for any idea of where to go next and what to do. He knew about biting and kicking, but he was woefully underprepared for something like this. Something that required skill and practice, which Cirrus clearly had but Cera - also very clearly - did not. Before Ilaria could respond Cera glimpsed Cirrus lunging for him from the corner of his eye, and immediately panicked. Delicate forelimbs locked hard into the frozen earth, and Cera kicked his hindquarters heavenward, hooves lashing out as hard as he could in an instinctive blow to try and catch her in the shoulder or lash across her chest.
 
The moment he regained his balance, all four hooves square on the earth, Cera drowned beneath his regret. He was fighting on instinct alone, but now the adrenaline was transformed from joy to terror and shame. What if he hurt her for real? What if she hated him, when they had only just been reunited? Cera didn’t know where the boundaries were, and he realized it far too late. The only battles Cera had ever engaged in had been fights to the death. Kill or be killed.
 
Cera had already taken one life. What if I kill her? The terror swamped him, and the moment his balance was back, Cera ran forward to try and regain the space and momentum he’d lost with his kick. Suddenly Ilaria’s words made far more sense, because he could feel the stress drawing on his delicate mind. I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay. She’s not hurting me. This is fun, just fun!
 
His scars ached mockingly. 

---

Attack: {2/3}
Words: {799/800}

Cue Cera freak-out! :D

OOC HERE