Somewhere in that prideful little head of hers, a voice was telling her that this was a terrible, terrible idea. Look at how big he is, it said, He could eat you if he were so inclined. You wouldn't even be an appetizer. Pursing her lips, Ovidius shook her head against the voice, deciding that she would, actually, serve as a very suitable appetizer for the behemoth.

Appetizer and butt-kicker, that is.

She was taken from her internal reverie by the honeyed baritone of the World's Edge King - what was his name again? Turpentine? Tallywhacker? Whatever.

Tensing, the petite gal prepared herself for what she assumed would be a declaration of strength followed by a war cry, but alas, she was merely saddled with a question. With a roll of her eyes and an irritated twitch of her tail, Ovi responded with a voice coated with impatience, "You people have all this gold, all these sparkly gems, and don't even wear them right!" Outrage was apparent in her expression, in the molten gold of her eyes and the set of those thin shoulders, "It's not just an accessory, it's not just pretty, it's supposed to be worn with pride and respect. Where there's gold there is power. Where there is gold, there is someone to be listened to."

There was a pause then, a frown on her face and a sulky glower aimed at the trees, the sky, the grass, at her reflection in those baby blues, that damned mini-elephant and her waving trunk; she knew it wasn't the best trait to steal, but she wasn't the best equine, so the Gods could make a damn exception where she was concerned.

"I want to be listened to. I have things to say! I am small but I know things! And stuff!" The last two syllables were tacked on hastily and without thought, belying her claim toward knowledge. She couldn't be bothered with it, though, she had issued a challenge and she would be loath to give the big lug the chance to strike while she was babbling away. With a curt nod and a stubborn set to her jaw, the tiny mare spun to her right and leaped behind the nearest tree.

Peeking out from behind her leaf-laden fortress, Ovidius gave a petulant glare before rounding the tree and sprinting in the Elephant King's direction. The war cry that she had been building up erupted from her lips in a pitiful squeal that couldn't have scared even the most skittish of squirrels. Despite her lack of skill in the intimidating-yell department, Ovi barreled on toward the direction of her opponent's exposed belly, intending on using the spines along her neck and back to rip at the soft flesh of his gut. Lowering her head, the petite challenger hoped that the stallion wouldn't move - or stomp on her - while she was beneath his bulk.

She didn't think she would be half as adorable if she were smashed to a pulp.