The air here was a great deal colder than at home, yet even here the Tallsun sun's rays reached. Isopia had never been this far north in the wintertime, but she assumed that the snow drifts that covered this continental ice shelf would likely be much higher than the icy sheets she saw below.

A new season had come and with it, a new patrol and spar roster set by the rarely seen Ktulu and the formidableish Ciceron. What Isopia had found by conforming to these duties was that 1. Nothing ever happened that was worth patrolling over, and 2. The warriors that she had been matched up with thus far had proved to be uninteresting adversaries. She had sparred both of her former leads, and only Kaj had stuck around to finish the mandatory three-round spars that they had been assigned. Archibald hadn't even bothered to attack her back.

As she mulled it over, the girl realized that she had learned a third thing as well, or at least reaffirmed something she long held to be the case: 3. Her leads and the other duty-giving members of the herd were not worth listening to. For long seasons Isopia had struggled with conforming to responsibility and accepting the obligations that her herd had the ability to bestow upon her. Now, after multiple 'experiments' (that's how her mind referred to the few times she did abide by her obligations - experiments), she had concluded that her assignments were arbitrary and that her herd was weak and lazy.

So today, Isopia shed the shackles of herd life and decided to create her own herd assignments.  

Down below, she could see the King of the Edge. He was a mammoth figure plodding through the snow, and immediately his presence sparked her interest. Would the King of the Edge be as lackadaisical as the leads of the Hidden Falls? What better target to assign herself?

Isopia who rarely experienced fear as an emotion or a defensive instinct, dove immediately from her lofty position in the skies towards the much sturdier King and his plodding companion. This was merely another experiment. Two, actually. The first being to test the metal of the World's Edge, and the second being to test herself against an opponent she allowed herself to assume to be a formidable one. In the past, she had called out to let her opponents know that she was about to drop from the skies to attack them, but in this instance she did not. Shouldn't Kings always be on the lookout?

In the rough and ready guide Isopia's mind had created for what it took to be a 'good' leader, she had concluded that indeed they should.

Her aim had been to come upon Tembovu from behind. As with most attacks of this sort, she would let her body descend until the momentum from her flight was transferred into a gallop. Though she judged herself to be the same size as the King, he was cloaked in far bulkier muscle than she, and so the demigoddess didn't bother to try and reduce her speed. She would need it if she was going to make an impact. Her goal was to slam her left shoulder into the right side of his flank and his own shoulder - though that had been her plan from the skies when he seemed unaware of her presence. Though she didn't call out, it wouldn't surprise her if the King turned to meet her attack with one of his own. If so, she would merely guide her shoulder into whatever part of him was closest.

Isopia felt the snow and ice beneath her hooves and tried to calibrate her movements to compensate. She allowed her wings to remain unfurled (though planned on sweeping them upwards when she neared Tembovu so as not to damage her joints during the impact). Isopia had never sparred (or done any exercise, really) on terrain such as this. But her mind was not concerned, it was all part of the experiment.

"Spar me, King" She called. Not a request, but even so her voice was its typical academic tone, void of any malice or contempt, despite what her actions might have suggested.