She had been so close.

A guttural scream laced with frustration and rage ripped from the mare's lips as her teeth slid ineffectually from the stallion's bulging neck. Pastel eyes glinted with her monstrous craving for battle, for the ebb and flow of adrenaline, for the risk and reward of blood stained skin. He turned his scarlet gaze on her, those burning orbs once clouded with lust were now clear and focused - the jig was up and the assault had began.

The rose matched his lethal grin with one of her own, and laughter - cruel and cold and alive - spilled from those blushed lips. That tinkling laughter was wild, unknown and untamed as its owner sped toward what could very well be her destruction; there was no place she would rather be, there was no place she would rather die than cradled in a womb of brutality.

How could she help it? How would she ever be able to escape the sickly sweet embrace of battle?  There would never be another, there could never be another comfort like this, control like this.

She watched, careful and overjoyed as the behemoth stallion swung his weight toward her side, her grin stretching wider. The strike would have been punishing, an exceedingly masculine blow filled with what could only be the rage of betrayal - or the humiliated retaliation of a stallion scorned. Orithia danced away from the blow and to the left, a graceful and battle-born wraith, another bout of chiming laughter burst forth as disdain practically oozed from her lithe frame.

Oh, the simple, beautiful giant; what a blessing he was in his monstrous size and testosterone-dosed brain.

How lucky she was as she waltzed away from his body that she happened to also waltz out of reach of his jaws. She felt the breeze and stirrings of her mane as the Goliath ripped a flower from its place near her poll. A hiss crept unbidden from between bared teeth and the fair maiden felt a flare of shock in her chest; her Goliath was quicker than she had bargained for.

What a treat.

Prancing steps led the mare's left wing to press lightly against the rough bark of a tree, and for a moment the pale maiden was lost in considering her environment; how could she use her wings here? Could she use her wings here? Would they again be used as shields? Less necessary appendages to absorb blows that would normally be crippling? She took a moment to glance down at her left wing, at the scars that cut through the feathers of her joint and the thin white lines of damaged and cauterized skin. Was it worth it to destroy the one true tie to freedom that she possesse--

A shriek shot through with surprise and pain filled the spaces between trees as a flying rat reptile's claws pierced the skin near her dock. Blood, hot and steaming in the chilled air, blossomed from the wound and ran in scarlet rivulets down the dove's rump. With an enraged squeal, Orithia bucked, giving in to the instinctual need to dislodge the thing from her backside.

Fury flooded her, fire igniting in her belly and racing along her veins in a relentless inferno; yet she smiled all the same.

She didn't bother to check what was sure to be a series of gaping wounds before she rounded on the stallion, a gleeful promise for murder written across her face. "Darling Goliath!" She called to him, her voice honey and cyanide, "Your pet has found its mark while you've proven your incompetence. It makes me wonder..." There was a dangerous twist to her hips as she took a step in his direction, the trees leaning in to hear her voice as it dropped to a svelte whisper, eyes trained pointedly on the stallion's groin, "Are you incompetent elsewhere?"

There was no time wasted between the quip and her attack as the lithe warrior leapt toward her Goliath, wings tucked tight against her sides and lacerations trailing blood upon the earthen floor. Again, her jaws opened wide, a feigned strike toward the stallion's underbelly. Hopefully before the stallion could react, the pastel mare reared back onto her hind legs, front hooves lashing out in an attempt to clout the left side of the mammoth beast's ribcage.

Pray tell, am I the incompetent one?