amaris

dragonborn

Anticipation lured everything within the mare to become more prominent - her emotions mounted, her breaths quickened, her pulse thumped excitedly. It was these events that helped blur what "past-Amaris" might have done if faced with a similar situation of restlessness and pent up energy - that Amaris would have backed away from such things, fearful that she would have hurt someone or made too much of a fool of herself.

This older, bonded, weaponised Amaris was not completely foreign when compared to that Amaris, but she was certainly more determined about what she wanted. Despite wanting to follow her past lessons of getting out of her own way, she danced along the cusp, the precipice of letting the predator within loose to wreak havoc wherever it went versus keeping it locked away so deep that none knew it existed.

Dramyrth observed this from his intimate viewpoint, feeling the emotions, the thoughts, the intentions swirl and flow within his bonded. There was no time to do anything more, for as the dragonmare sent out her summons for a partner in sparring, she also sent a decisive thought to him - stay out of it. This was her battle, and while he was a part of her, she did not mean to see him interfere. He grudgingly obeyed, at least for as long as he felt that a wise path to take, maintaining his flight high above the hillock where his bonded stood.

Movement caught her eye, a dark smudge against the pale landscape, and then there was Mesec, the Nightwind, the Glazier, the moonboy who had come to her lands so long ago seeking a flower from her home. Such thoughts flashed through her mind in an instant, before honing in on the declaration he made: he would be her opponent today.

A grin curled her lips, unlike any expression she had worn before. It was almost menacing, it hinted at pending doom and disaster - it was dangerous.

"Very well, Nightwind," her voice said, softly, though she trusted the breeze to carry her tones well enough to the ears of the brute. "Do not hold back." The tones that said these words was different, more serious, more ominous. For I don't know if I can, now, came the last fleeting thought of that "past-Amaris" an instant later, before the wave of emotion and subsequent resolution rooted itself within her.

She leaned back upon her hind-legs, bending her hocks and shifting her weight onto them, freeing up her forelegs for more agile movement. The dragonmare looked keenly over the steed, her predator's instincts naturally rising to the surface as she calculated everything Mesec - his build, his stature, his posture. She realised somewhere in the back of her mind that she actually knew very little about him - but no matter, she was hopefully about to learn a whole lot.

Twisting upon her hind-end she turned to her right, throwing herself forward suddenly in a speedy bounding stride, that would continue on into a brisk canter. Amaris aimed herself to run perpendicularly in front of the stallion, hoping he would be taken aback somewhat by her response and manner and forget that she held a giant lightning-whip trailing in her tail, for she intended it to be the star of her initial strike.

Praying she timed her strides correctly, the mare swung her hips around towards the stallion at the time she guessed she would have otherwise passed by his front had she continued onwards. With the momentum of her hips, she also brought her tail round. The silver scythe of her tail glistened in the sun, as she aimed it roughly to slice at Mesec's chest (it was difficult to gauge, for to do so she had to lift it higher than the hock-level she naturally carried her tail at). Trailing along behind it, crackling and sizzling all the while, was her whip.

Its path was not accurate, but its length and weight meant that momentum could carry it a fair distance and inflict a fair amount of damage in on strike. As it trailed directly along the path of her tail, only far longer, it too was approximately at the steed's chest height, though with its extra length the dragonmare assumed that if it struck, it would lash as his chest and perhaps reach across his right shoulder, and leave sizzling wounds wherever it touched.

"Past-Amaris" would have felt guilt at opening with such a potentially damaging strike, but the dragonmare today felt no such thing - if anything, she was riding on the thrill of it all, comfortable in the knowledge that today she sparred a friend, a herd-mate, whom she could wander back home with to heal and recover and carry on with life.

---

ooc:
0/3 attacks
0/1 closing defence
798 words according to MS Word.
Sorry for the wait my love, replies will be faster now! <3
PS Let's make it out of 3 attack posts otherwise they may just kill each other xD
@Mesec

sky above me — earth below me

and fire within me