Archibald had been patrolling throughout this season with intensity. The summer's heat and the spring's drought caused fires to randomly spark throughout the Hidden Falls. It made Archibald uneasy, and he and Loretta continually moved around and made sure no part of their home was burning to ash. Archibald remembered when these lands--so different then--were destroyed by the angry, desperate fires of the Sun God. In an outraged outburst against his siblings and their decision, the fiery deity had chosen to set fire to the world, and some horses along with it. For many years, Archibald held an anger against the god for such an act. As the years passed, however, the anger dulled. The memory, however, would never fade. Archibald would remember the cries of anguish as the flames licked upon the sensitive hides of his herd mates, nor how Smoke was able to stop the rampage only through offering herself like a common whore to the god.

No, the Dauntless would remember.

Fire had been one of Archibald's adversaries in many different battles. His hide was swatched with the dark gray scars of dragonfire, and his mind was scarred with the memory of destructive wildfires. Now, however, Archibald controlled some fire. The newest magic that coursed through his veins had fiery aspects to it. He could move flint projectiles so quickly that they ignited and burned upon touch. It was interesting to see how someone so affected by fire could also wield such destruction. At the thought, Archibald and Loretta decided it was time for a spar. But no fire, Loretta mused. Archibald nodded simply.

Stopping near a clearing, with a slow trickling stream, Archibald lifted his head and released a trumpeting warcall into the air.


[PC: 0/3 | WC: 288 (wordcounter.net) | Setting: Hidden Falls, early evening. The weather is warm but bearable. Archibald has chosen a clear area with a small stream running through the middle. | I'll be providing teaching notes!]

Above the heads of the warmongering pair, the sun raged on. The heat was tolerable, but between Archibald's legs his dark coat began to dampen with sweat. The Dauntless knew that the battle he would engage in today would not be an easy one--whichever herdmate or intruder decided to heed his call Archibald would test their mettle. He half expected Ktulu to step from the underbrush and return his challenge. Even from her--no, especially from her--Archibald would not hold himself back. He knew Ktulu's ability well, and she his. If she were the one to enter the clearing and lower her sword, the pair would accept fully.

As their war call faded into the forest, the pair prepared themselves for the impending spar. Archibald's thick neck arched and his back rounded, muscles coiling as his golden eyes scanned the battlefield. Loretta lowered her head, turning so her amber eyes searched where Archibald's could not, sending mental images across their bond to fill in his blind spots. Together, canine and equine fought in perfect harmony. Loretta's hackles raised instinctively and she paced back and forth, her tail rising into the air. Black-rimmed lips lifted and peeled away to reveal yellow-stained, knife-like teeth as Archibald pawed the earth below his iron-clad hoof.

Luckily, the pair did not have to wait long for their challenge to be accepted. From the underbrush stepped a familiar silver body. A small smirk appeared on the Dauntless Czar's lips for a phantom second before disappearing again to reveal a cold, emotionless facade. Ciceron and his companion emerged and stepped forth to the challenge. We will finally test him, Loretta said inwardly as Archibald brought the thought up in his mind. He nodded, tucking his chin toward his chest as the ivory covered stallion raced toward them. As he charged, Archibald braced his weight. He watched as Ciceron's hooves fell on the ground, and it was obvious that the footing in this clearing was excellent. The Dauntless had no worries about it, even with his horseshoes. His hindquarters tucked and his haunches tightened, ready for the impact of the other, smaller stallion hitting him. Ciceron was smaller, and thinner, but he surely had more speed. It was evident now as he galloped across the clearing, soaring over the small stream with ease. Archibald snorted, watching as the soldier brazened his sword and lowered it like a jousting lance.

The black behemoth was familiar with the fighting tactics of unicorns. Not only had he fought alongside unicorns--Ktulu, Ophelia, and several of his brothers--but he had taught unicorns to fight--his sons. Keen, golden eyes watched as the horn closed distance between Ciceron and himself, and suddenly the Dauntless shifted his weight forward. The king lurched forward in an attempt to slam into Ciceron, his front end coming up off the ground and his knees jutting out. Archibald felt the impact before the sound of horn clanging against metal resounded in the air. With Archibald's abrupt movement, he managed to block most of Ciceron's assault with his metal breastplate, though the sword slid off to the side and grazed the point of his right shoulder. It smarted, but the combatant did not let the pain show on his face. The cut was shallow, but he knew as he moved on later in the battle the muscles would pull against it and make it hum with dull pain.

As the horn sliced across his tough hide, Archibald's coiled neck rocketed out and his mouth opened. Teeth meant for grazing sought to snap across the left side of Ciceron's neck, and attempt at keeping the horn away from him for any further attacks. As he bit, rapidly like lightning striking across mountaintops, Archibald moved forward. He wanted to swallow Ciceron's space, to devour him whole beneath his might and power. He knew, quite well, that he was stronger than his Champion. If he were able to keep Ciceron in this place, close to him, he would be able to stomp him with the upperhoof of strength he had.

Loretta snarled at the cat, unafraid even as claws sliced out toward her muzzle. She attempted to move her face away, but was too slow. One of Kiara's claws managed to slice across Loretta's upper lip. A high-pitched yip left her jaws and she shook her head, rage overtaking the pain as Archibald pushed into her mind. Eat her alive! he commanded, black tail smacking hard against his hocks. Obediently, Loretta snapped her jaws toward the cat's leg, trying to bite down while simultaneously throwing her magic into the air, hoping to turn the feline into nothing but a mewling kit.


[PC: 1/3 | WC: 776 (wordcounter.net) | Setting: Hidden Falls, early evening. The weather is warm but bearable. Archibald has chosen a clear area with a small stream running through the middle. | I'll be providing teaching notes!]