the Rift


DT Spar [Nizho]

Aithniel the Inquisitor Posts: 169
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.0
Mare :: Tribrid :: 15.0hh :: 4 Years HP: 75 | Buff: NOVICE
Zerachiel :: Royal Griffin :: Molten Dagger tamme
#1
Aithniel

Fireball;

Aithniel stood upon the warm sands of the Dragon's Throat and flexed her nimble toes through the grains. Today was a good day to practice her skills in battle. The sun overhead was wan from the winter, but the cloudless sky would prove useful. A gentle breeze rolled through to cool the sweat they would eventually work up, and she inhaled deeply as she planned this physical argument. She rolled her shoulders and watched her opponent arrive.

Fortunately this was planned by Volterra - a particularly salty stallion. Who knew that being a good fuck and giving him a child as well as winning a battle would do nothing to earn his support. She snorted bitterly through her mousy, gray nostrils at the thought and rolled her silver eyes. Hopefully her continued work in the Dragon's Throat would prove her worth to everything, including the massive, black male.

Aithniel nodded her head to her opponent - a rather handsome colt if a rich color with silver eyes not entirely unlike her own. He was taller than she, but Aith was used to being the short one. In all honesty, she didn't mind. Being small meant that she was also fast, and hopefully that would work to her advantage today. Maybe not. She didn’t know this kid at all. Perhaps he was one of those child prodigies who were annoyingly good at one, particular thing.

Zera rolled his eyes and the royal griffin examined the talons on his right paw with boredom. He mentally chastised Aithniel for being so cavalier about this battle, but she brushed off his stodgy attitude. While he was not exactly wrong, she didn’t care. This was for practice, and she deserved to be able to make a few mistakes.

“You ready, kid?” she asked, stretching out her wings and flapping once as she leapt into the air. A breeze grabbed at her feathers, stabilizing her lift-off. Zera, annoyed by the sudden lurch, tumbled over the side and stretched his wings as well, cutting his bond-mate a sassy look. “I’ll start us off.”

Aithniel summoned a fireball with her magic and flung it in his direction. The diameter was smaller than her usual size as she had no intentions of actually hurting the boy. Maybe he would think differently, but this was a spar in her mind. There was no need for excessive violence while practicing. She spiraled around in the sky while Zera tagged along at her tail, keeping a watchful eye on his bond-mate’s back.

--------------------------
(420 words) (1/3)
DT spar midday in the DT/winter
She throws a fireball at him



@Nizho
Art by infinescence @ DA

But burn down our home
I won't leave alive


Please tag me in everything!

Nizho Posts: 17
Absent Abyss atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 5.0
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2hh :: 2 years HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Time
#2
Find me where the wild things are


There was something bubbling within the young stallion's chest. It burned like fire and tugged on him like quicksand, twisted and rolled like a crocodile and fluttered like a swarm of locust. It was not one emotion that moved inside of him, but many. He could not even place them all in his mind. He swallowed hard, cloven toes digging in the sand as he moved toward the soon-to-be battlefield. Fear, excitement, thrill... he listed them with each step he took--steps closer and closer to the oncoming defeat he knew was inevitable. The new draft stallion had paired him against their leader, which in any other situation might be nice, but not this one. This particular leader was a demi-god and she was raised in a herd once led by a khal and khaleesi--which meant Aithniel had savagery in her that was trained into the warriors under Gaucho and Megaera's rule. He swallowed again, stopping a few horse lengths away from his opponent.

His youthful face betrayed his knowledge. Nizho stood before her with his brows knit together and his silver eyes shifting, showing clearly the apprehension within him. Although he displayed the turmoil within him, he did not forget the training of his parents. His shifting eyes moved across the mousy grey body of the queen, taking in as much information about her as he could. The Inquisitor was shorter than he was, but twice his age, which meant that she knew how to use her body better than he did. While they seemed quite matched in muscle tone and, consequently, strength, Nizho was not going to take that for anything. She was a demi-god for Sun's sake! She could have the strength of two stallions and the apprentice would not be able to tell that. He shifted, wings readying for flight. "Yeah, I think so." He responded to her, trying to steel his face and show some semblance of the inherited resolve from his parents--both mighty and fierce warriors.

Aithniel lifted herself into the air and Nizho watched her, staying in his position on the sands but raising his wings in further preparation. He did not know quite what to expect from the woman, but he thought that if he stayed on the ground at least until she attempted a strike, he could use his nimbleness and avoid her before launching himself to match her skyward. He felt the muscles coil beneath his inky fur as adrenaline pulsed through him. This was his first true spar, and the blood in his body pounded in his ears as Aithniel finally positioned herself for attack. His dark ears perked at something bright forming next to the demi-goddess. Curiosity wracked his brain for a split second before panic exploded like fireworks behind his coldfire eyes. MOVE, STUPID! His brain screamed, but for a time he could not will himself to get out of the way. He was captivated by her magic, even as it raged toward him.

It seemed like the last possible second before he moved, and his own stupidity cost him some of his speed. He sucked in a breath that sounded like a short, tight gasp as his cloven hooves scrambled beneath him. His hind end tucked up underneath him and his wings spread out wide, his head flailing back into the air as he spun to his right. The fireball collided with the sands where he had been standing, sizzling hot and boiling like nothing he had ever encountered up-close before. Flames licked away from the impact, striking his left forearm harshly. Panic continued to whirl within his brain, clashing hot and heavy with the sensation of pain. His wings acted before he could consciously command them, and he was in the air as he pulled his pulsing, smarting leg toward his chest. Panic and pain shifted to some short burst of rage, and the young stallion found himself flying blindly toward Aithniel, his neck outstretched and teeth aiming to grasp onto the joint of her left wing while his unhindered right leg struck out aimlessly.



[PC: 1/3 | WC: 679 (wordcounter.net) | WOOP WOOP SMASH HIM AITH!]

art by sarah


@Aithniel

Blu the Bootyful Posts: 443
Administrator atk: 99 | def: 99 | dam: 99
Mare :: Other :: 5'7" :: 25 HP: 99999 | Buff: TWERK
Blu
#3
Aithniel has exceeded the time limit and defaults to Nizho. Nizho earns 0.5 VP.
 HP: 1100

Helovia Hard Mode


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