A quick glance over the shoulder showed her that the other mare indeed was following her into the clouds. The realization brought a grin to her lips, as mischievous as her gentle prank; the  grand reaction had been well worth anything that might afflict her from here on out, all a decent price to pay for the good laugh she was having.

Eager to gain as much height as she could before Ampere caught up with her, Erthë picked up the pace of her wing-beats as she was enveloped by the haze of cloud and rain. Or at least she tried to do so; for some reason it seemed to take much more time to complete a cycle of motion than usual, and though she thought she used all the strength of her slender yet strong physique, she still did not progress enough to maintain the distance. The sound of pursuing wings grew louder behind her, though she resisted the urge to look back again; more urgently still the young mare kept pushing herself forward, and did not realize just how much she had slowed until she felt the air-currents shift and bend to accommodate Ampere above her.

This time she did glance up, and was awarded with a sharp nip to the base of the neck for her effort. A squeal of protest tore from her lips as pain shot through the muscles, blunt teeth sufficiently strong to bruise her for a week. Unwilling to be pushed down further towards the ground, Erthë responded in kind; she tucked her wings close and rolled off to the left, hoping to rip herself loose from the painful grip while simultaneously aiming a sharp kick with her right hind clove towards the blue mare's legs. The cheerful "Hi!" was returned with a beady laughter;

"Hello yourself..!"

... and as she leveled out in the air and resumed the struggle to gain height Erthë extended her magic towards the rain that fell around them, tweaking the temperature in hope that the droplets would freeze upon contact with the opponent. It would be cold, uncomfortable, perhaps even heavy if enough ice accumulated, but more importantly the black ice would hopefully stick to the blue-black feathers and slow the woman down, right back at her.

Personally Erthë was less concerned about the damp; her swan wings were like those of a water birds, well adapted to water. It would take more than this gentle drizzle to down her, which was a very good thing; in the sky they were more or less equal, but stranded on the ground Ampere would gain the upper hand as soon as it became apparent how vulnerable Erthë was.

She hoped it would not come to that; this had been fun so far, and she would hate to have to resort to the bow in order to get the last laugh in this game of tag. Still, she knew it was there; an ace in the sleeve, its sleek ivory arc a familiar presence as it slapped against her side, hardly visible against the pallor of her coat.

---

PC: 2/3
WC: 518

My body is not ruined by scars.
I'm a tigress and I earn my stripes