the Rift

Oh I'll get some | Rikyn Challenge
Ascended Helovian

Gaucho The Wildfire Posts: 1,004
Deceased atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.2 :: 12 HP: 85 | Buff: PINNACLE
Mara :: Black Mamba Snake :: Paralyze & Vorsa :: Plain Zephyr :: Phoenix Odd
With fire to keep us warm, and tools we made from rocks and bones

Gaucho might have grown weary as of late. We might say of him that he was sluggish to rise for his patrols, but never that he missed one. We might say that the darkness around his eyes had grown, indicating his exhaustion, but never that it effected his deligience. We might say that his gaze wandered often to the newly returned Sohalia, but never that it wasn't watchful of his herd. He was Gaucho the Wildfire after all. And he was always ready.

Misael was an easy enough target to follow, even from the skies. His head spy was a massive creature and boldly painted. Besides, the day was relatively clear if not a little overcast. Despite the harsh over-exposed lighting, visibility was good. And as it turned out, Gaucho's was not the only gaze fixated upon the unicorn that day.

The unicorn below - the one who was not a member of Gaucho's family - was dark, but flecked with gold. Gaucho assumed it was a he, judging by the size and build, but from his vantage point he wasn't entirely sure. Not that it mattered. He (presumably) blended in well with the dark warm rock of the Heart, but his golden attributes as well as the occasional forced foray into the snow which still lingered in Helovia, made him noticeable.

And what Gaucho noticed was that he was following Misael.

Why they no learn, Gaucho grumbled unhappily to both Mara and Vorsa. It wasn't as though Gaucho wasn't up for the challenge, for he was always up for a fight, but that it was, in a sense, pointless. Did the better half of Helovia not know that Gaucho's family were protected by him? That any sort of assault would be met with hostility. That he would never go easy, make exceptions, or be forgiving? They were his family. How could anyone think he would let it slide? The snake ignored this thought and continued to curl herself closer to Gaucho's skull. She didn't like the cold one bit, for it made her body sluggish and slow. Vorsa didn't mind the snow so much - she enjoyed allowing her bright orangey-red body to burst into flames melting what was around her.

Without any hesitation, the trio immediately descended. Gaucho did not call out to Misael, nor did he try to make his presence anymore known than what was already obvious. Gaucho after all, was a fairly noticeable target: a massive streak of brown and black shooting downwards on flaming wings from the skies.

The dun tried to position his descent between Miseal and Rikyn, with his forward momentum facing the hostile unicorn.

"YOU." Gaucho bellowed once he judged his was within earshot, his steely gray gaze fixed pointedly upon Rikyn. The Wildfire's wings beat to slow himself so that he would not crash land onto the rocky terrain. Fire arched out of Gaucho's already fire-bright wings, aimed towards Rikyn. The wave of fire crescendoed outwards stretching out 30 meters before dissipating. But Gaucho had waited until he judged himself to be well within 30 meters of the unicorn, hoping to either send him running with a singed ass as a warning, or to barbecue him where he stood if he was foolishness enough to remain.

Gaucho's blackened hooves landed with an odd elegance upon the snow-spattered ground, but his wings remained outstretched. "THROAT UNDER GAUCHO'S PROTECTION." He continued, his voice a deep and stern bellow, revealing none of whatever inward fatigue he might have been feeling. "LEAVE. THROAT. ALONE." Each word was punctuated with something like a snarl.

Gaucho is challenging @Rikyn for "leave the Throat alone" so no stealing from us. Immediately following Rikyn's failed stealth of Miseal.

Setting: Helovia's Heart (since it's the closest board to the Throat). The heart is warm, but there's still patches of snow on the ground. Over cast day. Probably around noon.

WC: 673
Attack: 1/4
Summary: Gaucho descends and tries to position himself between Rikyn and Misael. He throws a wall of fire at Rikyn, lands, and yells.

Image Credits
Please tag me in every post! Magic/Force is allowed on Gaucho at any time.

Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT
Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Bunnie
Not the five feet of water to your chin

I know nothing of Gaucho, other than faint tales of a very dangerous warrior who lived in the heart of the desert. As far as I was concerned, this threat was just that – empty words, left ringing in the air to keep little boys from wandering too far from home. He is not even a cursory thought in my mind as I prowl along behind the unfortunate fellow whose things have caught my eye.

YOU!” booms some voice from above, the smell of heat obvious in the cold air above; embers drift down from his expanded wings, which were on fire, just like the bird dropping down beside him, its body a blazing arrow. I spin around to meet his approach with golden eyes wide as they’ve ever been, my heart actually thudding to a stop for a brief second at the sight of his inspiring ferocity.

I’m still staring at him like some idiot boy when the fire erupts in a shower of red and orange. It seems to come from his wings – I’m not sure – as whatever has held me in place until now has relinquished its hold, and I’m trying to hard to leap towards the right and out of reach of the blaze.

It might have worked, maybe, if I’d not been so caught up in what I’d been doing before seven hells broke loose in the form of a shouting bird from Hell. As it stands I’m quite startled by the shock of his arrival, and not as fast as I thought I was or could be. In a wave of pain, the fire surges across my left side, its crackling voice a loud roar in my ears as the hair singes away beneath its hungry touch; as the skin welts and splits, a most womanly, "Aaaieeeee!" finds its way from my mouth.

The pain is a bright agony that I can’t compare to anything, a very sudden understanding of why mother had hated dragons so much revealed as the fire dies away, and the pain only grows, the cold wind like needles raining down on the flesh; I can’t help but look at the bellowing pegasus like he’s, well… a barbarian. A barbarian named Gaucho (oh, so he’s not imaginary… shit) his short and simple sentence structure almost laughable (almost).

I skitter backwards, trying to get as far away from his landing place as I can, warily listening for the flaming bird (I’ve utterly lost it in all the joy of being caught on fire), the slightest quirk of a smile rising through the worry that maybe I should try to get away while I can.


How often would I get to face off against a real legend? This could be the only time in my whole life I could potentially be murdered by someone who was famous!

I suck in my quivering breath. I tell the little bitch inside me who’d screamed when Gaucho’s fire touched me to man up or shut up; I mentally smack it when the residual pain of the fire makes me whimper without being given permission. My gaze is defiant in the way that only an impetuous unicorn supremacist (and former Prince) who’s fought three Gods without a scratch is capable of.

"Make me, old man," I taunt, restraining a mad giggle (I think it was the little girl inside me fainting) as my body moves to life, all the arrogance I’ve ever felt pitching me into a fight that I’ll never win.

The pain makes me pant, breath already too deep to be in the first throws of a battle. Leading with my right shoulder, covered in the bronze cover I’d found only some days before, I try to keep its metallic protection presented to where he should be on the field (unless he’s moved, or has taken flight), coming forward with the semblance of a charging rapier strike. At the last moment I pull aside, hoping to streak on by him along what had been his right when I’d first started moving. As I try to make it by him, there is some strange pull within me, some magical fluctuation that is foreign, unknown, but it is crackling, alive with the brilliant black lightning that my first magic has. Part of me wonders if the sudden stress of this situation hasn’t made me lose some of my sanity, but its so real that I can’t help but think that I might have just discovered something wonderful and new about myself.

The spark moves in the general direction of Gaucho with some of my strength in tow, a curious glance cast to the pegasus observe its effect – if any.

1/4 :: 789 words

[ OOC: Well because he’s a moron he’s not running away. Being logically afraid is not his strong suit obviously. ;D ]

:: [ Magic: DarkxSpark | The ability to short circuit the electrical impulses of an opponent's brain, causing temporary loss of control over their physical responses. ]
:: [ Restrictions | Lasts 20 seconds in battle. ]

but the inch above the tip of your nose.

Wishlist - Plots

Force/violence is allowed to be used on Rikyn permitted it does not permanently maim or kill him (PM me!).
Ascended Helovian

Gaucho The Wildfire Posts: 1,004
Deceased atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.2 :: 12 HP: 85 | Buff: PINNACLE
Mara :: Black Mamba Snake :: Paralyze & Vorsa :: Plain Zephyr :: Phoenix Odd
With fire to keep us warm, and tools we made from rocks and bones

Make me, old man, perhaps surprisingly, though not for any who truly knew Gaucho, the dun acknowledged this statement, likely meant as a jeer, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. His wings were still splayed elegantly and aggressively from his flanks, but his handsome skull dipped lower, his bone-pierced muzzle moving towards his chest slightly.

I accept, that movement clearly said, and when his gaze rose Gaucho's eyes were no longer those of a Sultan escorting some rat from his borders, but of a warrior engaged in combat.

Rikyn moved forward with Gaucho easily matching his pace.

The Wildfire's wings flattened against his flanks lest they be skewered haphazardly by the unicorn's horn. His intent was a maneuver used often against those inexperienced enough to think that galloping next to him was in any way a clever tactic. He was adorned with antlers, a spiked collar, a snake in the tangles of his forelock, and the bulk and muscle of a veteran fighter. Gaucho would throw his entire weight into the boy, knocking him askew. Perhaps if Mara was quick she could even get a bite in on the thick crest of his neck where his blood ran hot and straight to his heart. Perhaps his spikes would even cut through that garish looking piece of armor he wore.

Yes. That's what he would do - and as Gaucho's long strides helped to eat up the distance between the two, he could see very clearly that the boy was merely being reckless. He was making a mistake. Somewhere in the distance he thought he could hear Aelin calling to him - shouting across the water perhaps, but he ignored this. Even if this stallion was a friend of his daughter's, it did not make up for the assault against the Dragon's Throat. 

Rikyn's head had just passed Gaucho's shoulder, and the large dun bayed his time until more of him became parallel. Just as his weight thrust right towards Rikyn's flank, he felt...

-cold-? wasn't cold.

Static? Like Ampere? But no, not that either. It was sort of... a white fuzz in Gaucho's brain. Though it was soundless and without form. Without comprehension, the dun felt himself stumbling to the right quite hard. His legs - his entire body it seemed - was suddenly unresponsive. It wasn't numb - he could still feel the chill in the air against his extremities - but it was as if they were no longer connected to his mind in the right way. And without any sort of connection, they were merely bags of bone and muscle, teetering towards the ground. 

Gaucho wanted to grunt, but even his lips ignored his command. Luckily (perhaps) his gaze was pointing ahead, so at least he could see what was about to happen. The dun watched as the ground rose to meet him, as his front legs buckled uselessly without command from his brain and his knees skid against the hard rocky outcropping of the Heart. Blood bloomed brightly from large open wounds that now lined his forelegs, as well as a few on his hind legs, from where rocks and gravel had been kicked up and thrown against his body. He might have toppled over then, but with something like cold relief, Gaucho sensed that his body was somehow under his control once again. Sluggishly, as if the connection need to reform, his wings splayed from his flanks to aid with balance, and, as his command increased, he rose off of his bent forelegs and stood. 

That why he come so close, Gaucho thought. Well, if proximity is what the boy needed, the Wildfire had more than enough tricks to keep him away.

Gaucho turned, hiding the wince that wanted to creep onto his features from the garish and obliterating pain that reverberated through his knees. Was bone showing? The crisp air stung so deep into his body that he thought perhaps some might have been. But he wouldn't allow himself to glance down. No, his eyes sought only Rikyn. 

Fire blossomed from Gaucho's antlers, quickly composing into two massive shapes roughly looking like bears. The fire creatures roared silently and advanced towards Rikyn. They aimed to corral him as best they could, and, once Gaucho judged they were within range, they lunged towards each of the unicorn's shoulders. He hoped to not only ignite the front half of the boy, but possibly to heat his bronze armor enough that it would burn him as well.

Vorsa accompanied the fire-bears. She did not attack, but she looked like she was going to, in an effort to draw the unicorn's gaze up towards her rather than focusing on the bears. 

WC: 784
Attack: 2/4
Summary: Runs at Rikyn meaning to body slam into him. However Rikyn's magic grabs him first and Gaucho's legs stop working. He crashed to the ground skinning off skin from his forelegs and revealing some bone there as well. Minimal damage to his hinglegs too.

Turns around and uses FIRE BEARS ATTACK. 

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Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT
Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Bunnie
You can run on for a long time

I believe, as I always do, that I will be faster, simply because I am. There is no thread in Time’s weaving that leads to him being as fast as me.

I am wrong.

The desert gladiator matches me, beats me, his towering figure so impossibly fast that I remember the fear that had threatened to send me packing when his fire had first touched me, worn the seeping wounds into my left side. It makes my heart slam erratically against the confines of my chest, the air I drink all the more cold, sweetly scented by the promise of spring, radiating through the eternal warmth of the rough stone at our hooves.

There is something brilliant in the surge of adrenaline and terror that intoxicates as much as it makes me tremble. I’m giddy, high on it all when my magic touches him for a change, golden eyes widening with glee and surprise to watch his attempt to body slam me miss by a fraction of an inch, my tail sweeping down and between my legs to avoid being caught in his passing.

"Ha!" I bark through the cringe which steals my smirk as I lunge past the seriously stacked behemoth, angling to the left as he staggers right. Whatever the magic did, it’s working – all the grace and strength Gaucho had showed as he’d surged forward to meet in my feigned charge is lost when the peculiar power washes over him, and he drops, a mass of muscles, bones, and feathers, to his knees.

I know better than to keep my back to an opponent, fully aware of the blind spot behind me. Blood weeps from my left side as I charge for a patch of snow, skidding into its slick surface, using the momentum of my speed and the weight of my body to glide about in a clockwise direction, my fore-hooves the anchor, muscular rump tucked and sliding so that I’m looking back at where the pegasus went down with minimal effort. Still, the skin along my left side pulls, singing out with bright pain; I grunt, tears of agony leaking from my eyes despite my will to be stone.

I don’t have time to think. There are bears coming, blazing ones, and among them is the phoenix, a beautiful ember streaking through the cold air, each trailing a wake of steam and smoke that curl like the horrible feeling in my belly behind them.

I dodge the first burning entity by side stepping left, barely agile enough, its fire crackling along the metal protecting my right shoulder as its molten teeth snap on the brittle winter air, the cover quickly becoming uncomfortably hot and making me take an involuntary secondary half step, again to the left, away from its heat. The bird pulls away (shit, she’s faking,) as I’m pulling up onto my hind legs to avoid colliding with her, my gilded eyes broad and panicked, because I can’t get away from the other bear, and because it hurts, by Spark’s light it hurts…

The same igneous touch I’d just narrowly avoided drives its fangs into already scalded shoulder as I scramble back to all fours; the wounds cauterize at each tooth’s touch, the air odoriferous with my cooked flesh, and the acrid stench of burning hair. My lungs suck on the cold air, as if it could drive the heat that sizzles and melts away as the fangs pull away and the bears body continues on, flames licking, sealing away the wounds that had oozed plasma and blood, birthing new ones (though not as many as the first attack had).

It hurts so intensely that my stomach roils, my sight blurred with the starlight of pain. I try to follow the phoenix as I two-step backwards, my usual speed sluggish under the burden of so many burns. Reaching out with my most familiar power, I attempt to grab the bird in its throes, eagerly allowing myself to fly out, hopefully becoming one with the beast for a brilliant few seconds. It’s invigorating and strange as always, but the thought of becoming one with such a magnificent bird (coinciding alongside a strong urge to not die) add a heightened sense of elation as I arc upwards.

The momentary distance of pain is relished as I will my will to take hold of his companion, hoping to use her against him; with any luck, the return of my consciousness to myself (and the thundering return of the agony) will reveal her diving with full force into his towering body, giving me enough time to run while he puzzles out why his friend has suddenly assaulted him - not a giant, angry pegasus kicking in my face.

I can only hope, right?

[ 2/4 :: 796 words ]
:: [ Magic: DarkxSpark | Ability to manipulate electrical currents in the nerve system to control victim's bodies ]
:: [ Restrictions | Requires intense concentration, and only lasts for one attack or defense with the inability for mind control; lasts up to one post outside battle ]

sooner or later God will cut you down.


Wishlist - Plots

Force/violence is allowed to be used on Rikyn permitted it does not permanently maim or kill him (PM me!).
Ascended Helovian

Gaucho The Wildfire Posts: 1,004
Deceased atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.2 :: 12 HP: 85 | Buff: PINNACLE
Mara :: Black Mamba Snake :: Paralyze & Vorsa :: Plain Zephyr :: Phoenix Odd
With fire to keep us warm, and tools we made from rocks and bones

Gaucho saw the patches of red blossoming on Rikyn's side even before his fire bears found him. Despite the numb connections that his body experienced a few moments prior, the dun had genuinely thought that his body slam had missed the unicorn. So what was the cause of the blood? Perhaps magic comes at price, he thought distantly, not really caring one way or the other.

What he did care about was the flaming trio attempting to bury the unicorn beneath their fire. Rikyn side-stepped the first bear, and Gaucho wasn't unsure whether it was Vorsa's accompaniment or mere proximity that allowed the second bear to attack. But attack it did. The dun couldn't tell if the unicorn's anguish came just from the bear, or from the secondary tactic of super-heating his armor - perhaps neither. For while the boy seemed to stagger, he did not cry out. Given his impish response earlier Gaucho did not attribute any sort of warrior's-spirit to him, or indeed any real training at all.

However these thoughts were dispelled as Vorsa - harmlessly circling above - suddenly screeched. Her orangey-red body began to twist in the air as if she had been lassoed by some invisible cord. Perhaps what Rikyn didn't know, for there was no companion with him, was that Vorsa's mind was not just her own.

The phoenix shared all of herself with Gaucho, and he with her.

Vorsa, easily the most tempered and peaceful of the dangerous trio - who had never attacked anything in her life, fought with all of her strength as well as the strength she siphoned from Gaucho - against Rikyn's attack. Her beak opened and she screamed pitifully as her body flit around the sky, resisting with every iota of strength that she had. The bird felt her muscles clench, felt ligaments pull against the strain, but still her mouth was open, her eyes bright and shiny with panic, screaming for it to stop.

Her strain transferred into the Wildfire, and he felt his own muscles tensing wildly with phantom pain. Her body flit back and forth like a kite caught in a strong breeze. Through their connections, Gaucho could feel the invisible hands gripping her mind, trying to thrust her down at him. Through sheer will he thought that he could snap the connection, but worried about what would happen to Vorsa in the process. His mind might have been primitive, but his determination was indomitable, and he wasn't sure if the same zephyr could withstand the defence he wanted to raise for her.

So instead, he let her come for him.

Gaucho's wings spread from his flank as Vorsa's body suddenly angled towards him. Fire blared from her body in bright streaks of panic as she was guided towards Gaucho's breast. The dun spoke words of love and reassurance into her half-mad mind. Gaucho be fine. Come, and magic will stop. He held himself in place so that Rikyn's magic would have no reason to offer any more control over the bird than was strictly necessary. Though her body was on fire, Gaucho knew the flames would not - could not - hurt him. Her beak and talons were another matter. Vorsa trilled just before her body struck his - pleading her apologies and warbling her maddening confusion. Blood gaped from where her claws had slashed away at his blue-striped muscles but the dun forced his teeth to remain clenched. Though he knew his companion could feel the swell of pain radiating from him, he would not force her ears to hear it as well.

The dun hissed in a breath, once again mentally whispering forgiveness and love to the bird. His wings had folded around her as if welcoming the impact, but now they spread. Blood glistened on his chest as Gaucho began to stampede forward.

No one hurt his companions. No one.

Gaucho charged looking more and more like the Wildfire that he was. The flames on his wings licked higher as a fresh wave of fire arced outwards, directed at Rikyn. Gaucho followed wildly in its wake. His neck was curled so that his antlers pointed defensively outwards. Despite the ache radiating out from his chest, the dun attempted to slam himself directly into the younger male from the front. He would rake at his face with his antlers, hopefully gouging Rikyn's chest with the sharpened bone spiked collar he wore, and if nothing else, might shove the unicorn back with his bulk and speed.

Through his anger and despite the fact that he knew her to be gone, Gaucho could feel Ampere's eyes on him. He could practically see her scowl and hear her voice, You see? You see what happens when you bond? They are the ones who end up hurt!

And she wasn't wrong.

WC: 798
Attack: 3/4
Summary: Allows Vorsa to come at him. Sustains chest injuries from her talons. Charges at Rikyn - throwing an arc of fire and then trying to body slam/bone-collar attack/ and horn-attack him.

Sorry for the wait Bunnie!!

Image Credits
Please tag me in every post! Magic/Force is allowed on Gaucho at any time.

Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT
Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Bunnie
Not the five feet of water to your chin

It works, barely, and I know why; as I my Spark makes contact with the bird I feel two other presences immediately combat me, one of them so very full of the brute violence that has been unleashed upon me so far that it can only be Gaucho himself. The struggle that ensues feels like eternity, where I press hard against he and his two companions, and he presses back. The pain outside of my mind surges in, a fourth counterpart I must fight, and I’m just about to give in when, suddenly, I am in control.

The resistance of their bonded minds against mine suddenly lets go, and with a slingshot like sensation my being is a blazing bird screaming in terror at some really scary, bone bedazzled pegasus. He looks so calm, barely marked, while my body is already done. I let that fear, the provincial proof that I am unworthy of this battle, hurl my Spark back to me as the phoenix crashes into her protector.

I try to brace for the return to my injured body, to not let the pain get to me, but I don’t think all the time in the world would be enough. I only have a split second, the backwards belly feeling suddenly roaring into a painful maelstrom of sensations one cannot imagine as my mind melds with my atoms. It is more painful than salt water on an open wound, shattered bones forced to move, and it is thought numbing. I had intended to run immediately.

I shake for moment instead, overwhelmed. I think I’m screaming, but my blood is pulsing too loud in my ears to even hear him, and the thunder of his hooves demanding the earth’s submission. I think I’m still screaming when I finally do move, but its slow, the rush of adrenaline that had kept me moving so far lost as I’d been one with the bird, painless, and powerful. I’m only cantering, but laughably slow, the speed of an easy trot; a leisurely afternoon stroll, Death at my heels.

His fire roars over my head; it singes my ears and haunches, and the acrid stench of me burning deepens its presence in the air. Its starting to make me feel sick, and its making my eyes leak (I swear I’m not crying), his shadow approaching like a wall of fire, an angel of the Sun come to punish my arrogance, and my thoughtless leaps into the unknown.

I tilt my head back to yell at him, to tell him that I will “leave Throat alone” if he just stops lighting me on fire, but it’s too late.

For the first time, he actually hits me. The realization hits me with shame almost as forceful as his bulk as he slams his shoulder into my left side.

He hasn’t even touched me until now…

A mountain hits me, tosses my entire body aside like it is a cloth rag. My breath leaves me with the sound very similar to the one my whole figure had made when I’d fallen into the snow, that long ago day on the mountain, with Aithniel, and Jorogumo. I gasp, unable to take another in, and there is the overwhelming sensation of blackness clamoring across my vision. I rattle some grotesque noise as the world pitches about me, right shoulder falling nearer and nearer the ground the further out his body slam propels me.

Everything hurts, even the wind crossing my skin. I really don’t want to know how the ground feels.

Can’t I just fly like this forever? Can’t I just wake up above the sea, with Aelin, like I’d dreamed as I slept alongside her?

I close my eyes, and instead of Aelin, Aithniel’s there, her darkly faded features worried, her black horns catching the sunlight above while I lay embarrassed, buried in white. For some reason, Xynia is behind her, not Jorogumo, a tilted smile that mocks me on her face. Like then, I’m invisible as I lay beneath the snow, as they search for someone they can’t see. I’m nobody.

“I told you that you weren’t a warrior,” Xynia laughs.

It’s the last thing I think before the black curtain comes down, as if the dark ground had swallowed my mind whole as I slide roughly across its face, pebbles skittering outwards from the path of my unconscious body.

3/4 | 733
[ OOC: ...and then Rikyn was sleeping, quite against his will... ]

but the inch above the tip of your nose.

Bunnie the Bonnie Lass Posts: 9
OOC Account
Filly :: Unicorn :: 16.2 :: 25
To be 100% clear, Rikyn is forfeiting the challenge!

Official Posts: 847
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
Gaucho wins the battle and 1 VP is awarded.
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