The opponent that came was not an assuming one. He arrived, as if from the snow itself, with a quietness that seemed to bespeak neutrality, if not even peace. Öde blinked, a flutter of black against red, as he watched the white stallion draw near, and nearer still. He might have discounted the presence, a pale shadow (an angel? a winter's reaper with his staff?) cast upon paler ground, except there was something more.

Mauja wore himself like war. He came with purpose, and he left evidence of it in the practiced prints he carved into the snow, in the play of shadow and light along the blue iris of his weathered gaze, it was even there in the cologne that wafted off his skin; ready, capable, wanting. Öde tensed when he realized this, and slowly a cocky smile fitted itself against his features, dashing away the perplexity with tailored strength. Not an angelic reaper, he thought sneeringly, feeding himself with compliments torn from the flesh of his foe. No, he's a damn cheerleader with a baton and a sparkly skirt. Does he think he can best me? Does he think he can survive me?
I am Öde.
I am the god of the mortals.
I am DEATH!

As if initiated by silent drums of war the devil's wolf picked up his feet and lead a fantastic charge towards his murderer. There'd be no ice spikes to fell Öde today though, not when Öde was the only divine being to fight; his sheer presence would force Mauja to remember his sickening mortality, such was the might of Öde's magic, smothering that of others. Mauja still had one spike though (more, if Öde was paying any attention to the staff that he had not government over), but Öde had three of his own (more, if his dick counted), and he lowered them now with a promise that they would strike with the same brutality Mauja had shown him once.

Of course, Öde did not know the historical tie that bound them together, but it certainly made for nice background music.

So Öde bore down on Mauja through the snow, his cloven hooves spreading against the iced loam, holding firm where other hooves might slide. He was used to this terrain, because hell was not an eternal flame, it was a cold pit and he lived in it, was born into it- just another demon set loose.
What was Mauja? The Frozen Light - suspended in time, lost to the ice; he was nothing.

Öde feinted to his left, trying to throw Mauja's defenses there while he ducked back to his right (Mauja's left). Agile and two-toed as he was, snow was a bitch and the move cost him some of his momentum. His lion's tail thrashed, spurring his ass forward; the muscles bunched and shoved him ahead, his triple crown hungry as its spires reached to tear into Mauja's neck. Öde thrust his head back for extra assurance. The central horn was longer and needed an extra push to delve deep, while the small, straight prongs that protruded from the base of it were but simple daggers, more likely to cut, but with shallow reach. It was why Öde did not slow, intending to rip himself through the alabaster hide to maximize damage, even if it lacked the pleasurable intimacy of a close kept stab where heartfelt whispers could be exchanged.

His jock strap cradled his balls nicely, even as his cloak strayed to one side, the dead flesh of the unfortunate animal fluttering gaily behind him.
Limits he reminded himself, abruptly stopping. He needed to see how well this thing really worked.
His forehand jarred as his front legs locked and bounced against the frost hardened ground. The brash stop forced his momentum up in a partial rear, but he surged downwards purposefully, head rolling with energy, testicles flouncing happily. As he landed he twisted to his right, shifted onto his forehand and fired out with his back hooves towards Mauja's left flank. Only a stride or two after his sword play, he guessed Mauja was still close, not quicker than he given the freckled fuck's height and bulk, so surely he was incapable of leaving already.

Öde's breath stormed out like a dragon's as the heat slammed against the cold with visible display. It billowed excessively as he brayed a challenging bellow, the sound thundering from his scarred chest as he dared Mauja to keep this up.
Ever a showman, Öde needed his opponent, and the rest of the world, to know when he was winning. Maybe that meant his victory wasn't obvious enough, maybe it just meant he fucked like he fought, loud and successful.

---

A: 1/3
D: 0/1
W: 787/800

YAY NEO FIGHT
Sure! I'll start the teaching after your first attack post :D His magic is constant, but doesn't affect passive magic.