Isopia, who did in fact believe in a certain kind of fate, might have appropriately reached out with her mind, to thank her Father, the universe, or some infinitely larger deity who may have interfered, had she been thinking clearly. How else could she have evaded the spikes protruding from Abraham's armor? Skeptics might have chalked it up to the slender shoulders she had inherited from her mother's thoroughbred lines or the fact that probability dictated that because there were spaces between the spikes it was possible to luckily evade them. But what a boring explanation that would have been - much better to think that perhaps some lesser god somewhere who ruled over the broken-hearted and scorned lovers of the world, was on Isopia's side.

The demi-goddess rebounded to the right, relishing the satisfying pressure against her left shoulder as she shoved Abraham back. Had she not been running straight for him that feat would likely not have been possible, for despite her (slight) height advantage, he was built much more thickly than she was, regardless of her draft-heritage. Her cape fluttered behind her as she skirted around one of the many trees that ringed her clearing. She expected to feel tugging on that cape (she had heard the snap of teeth behind her), or to feel some sort of attack on her retreating backside. But there was ...

nothing.

The moment of gladness due to the success of her attack that had pierced through the mental fog of pain she felt, was quickly replaced by more anger - though of a different variety. The deathly-mask that marked Isopia's face became a snarl as her lips peeled back from her teeth. He was playing with her. Her attack (and his lack of defense) replayed in her mind. He had allowed her to run right at him. He hadn't moved or balked, but merely absorbed her attack and subsequent horn-scratching without complaint. His dragons (she had just remembered them), had done nothing, and yet during their previous spar, it was the dragon queens who had taken centre stage. 

Furious that she was being robbed of a reasonable outlet through which to express her anger, Isopia forced her body to skid to a stop. Her hooves crunched loudly on the dead grasses, scorched by Tallsun and the wildfires that it had brought to the Falls. She awkwardly cranked her head around, allowing her larger body to clumsily pivot after it, glaring at the golden stallion all the while.

"Don't you patronize me!" She roared, the normal academic cadence of her voice breaking and wavering, as if yelling wasn't something she did often. Childishly (for I'll remind you, Isopia was robbed of a childhood due to the genetic speed-aging she experienced), The Mountain groped for her magic. She seized upon the earth around her, forming it into three misshapen lumps. These she directed towards Abraham, meaning to pelt him with earth and whatever stones might have been enveloped inside, just like a child on the playground. 

"Fight back!" She screamed, her voice wafting after the lumps of earth she had thrown his way. 

Hurt me! Hurt me so that I can't think about the one who hurt me before-