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11-05-2012, 09:09 AM
Birch found her feisty ways amusing. Her insistence that she was stronger and more capable than he seemed laughable to the draft, who stood tall above her and had enough force behind him to crush her unsuspecting skull. A mare as weak in the mind as she was sure to have a soft one anyhow. But while he was skeptical of the concept of loss, and his pride carried him closer, he knew to be careful. This was not like his trial against Archibald in the threshold, where he was evenly matched in speed and strength. No, this mare reminded him more of Ktulu. She had been smaller than he, and even with her biting words he had underestimated her. But her magic... the mere thought of it filled him with joy, but he would not forget the initial panic. She had seemed almost powerless against him, he had been a fool to assume she would have no mythical skills like the Draft in the throat. There was magic in this land, magic that he did not yet possess, and he had to be on constant guard of it. Lost in his thoughts, the Arborun let her make the first move. It was the honorable thing to do, but he was not honorable- no, if she had simply been a little slower, and his mind not so dulled by the cold, he would have cut her down before she could have spoken again. As it were, though, he felt numb. Cold cut through his thin coat and bore into each of his powerful muscles, tightening them and stiffening them as if to protect them from the inevitable lethargy. She rose to greet him and he struggled to do the same before deciding against it entirely. But the mare move quickly and he had little time to act. His tree, sturdy by nature but with brittle branches from the cold, was a less effective tool than usual, but he would make do. With a lowering of the left shoulder he thrust forth, hoping to swipe her exposed underbelly, unaware of the life growing inside it. But even if he had known, he would not have cared. Her kicks hit the base of his arbor, denting the bark and sending stinging pain through his form. He was thankful only for his lowered stance and tucked neck; had he risen to meet her, he surely would have been met with her kicks and bites completely. Instead her teeth found purchase only on the brittle twigs stemming from his lifeplant. The snap was a wretched sound that left him paralyzed for a moment, the pain an awakening jolt. Red sap flowed from the place where his tree had been torn; he could feel it leaving him slowly, slowly. Draining his energy, exposing him to the cold that crystallized his blood and sealed the wound. Rage filled him- rage that she would have hurt him as effectively as that so early in a battle he had expected to win. With a violent strike, his jaws reached to clench around the skin of her inner thigh and his body tensed in preparation for her weight upon him should she fall as a result from his first attack. She would feel this pain, know his strength. He was no weak force to be underestimated. Each blow she gave him lifted his spirits, each sensation of pain, each step closer to death... was bliss. [[WC: 576 || PC: 1/3 || M/CU: N/A || SUM: Birch considers rearing but realizes he cannot do so effectively in the amount of time he has. His actions are thus delayed, and so while he attempts to go underneath her and ram her stomach with his tree, he also takes the kicks to the trunk of the tree, and the bite to one of its twigs, which subsequently snaps off. While underneath her, he attempts to bite her inner thigh and prepares himself for the possibility of her falling on him. || N: No worries. My apologies for the wait, school has me busy. ]] |
