the Rift


(JUDGE) price to pay [xan, challenge]

Tor Posts: 197
World's Edge Nurse
Mare :: Equine :: 17.1 :: 9
Adoptable
#1
[Image: winter_snow_by_ladyfey-d5g626q.png]


There are moments where time is a thick taffy being so slowly pulled apart, where each step takes minutes and each shift in your stance takes hours. You can see each beat of the birds' wings as it sweeps golden wings upwards and downwards, the glint of the beady night eye shining as the sun pours golden light over the earth. The Basin, once encompassed in shadow, stirs as it is flooded with delicious gold, gold that ever so stealthily creeps over each blade of grass. Tor likes to imagine there are little nymphs flying, fire-nymphs with jewel eyes and translucent wings fluttering, garbed in red and yellow flame with crowns of ash upon tiny white faces upturned. They paint each blade of grass speedily with a brush of burnished auburn, and with another thin brush, delicately sketch in the shadows, add in little white veins of detail where the night meets the sun. More nymphs flutter over the water of the lake, their wings alighting the water in a glistening halo of pure light before it settles to a beautiful blue of Ophelia's left eye.

Tor stills her rapidly thumping heart, inhales the sweet clandestine air so pure. The world is silent. The basin in the Steppe seems to hold its breath, only the gentlest of exhales of the winds sets the verdant green tundra grasses swaying, sparkling in the dawn light. Dawn. The sky is a water colour, mostly a faded blue towards the upper half of it, but there are marbled pinks and yellows that curl and melt together in the lower half. White clouds, thick and soft rounded things that take up the air, are painted with yellow gold on the bottom with faint rose hues. In a moment, everything will revert to normal speed, but right now everything is tantalizing slow, allowing Tor to think over every wrong she's done and is doing.

The sun has not yet lit the insides of the dark caves, and so the draft is uncertain whether or not Mirage may be watching. Her great heart skips a beat. It was a wrong thing Tor was doing for the right reasons, attempting to save a mare who she had heard many great things of, while endangering her peaceful mission to the Basin accompanied by Rafe, Phaedra, and Avira. Surely Ktulu would not be happy to be hear of her foolishness, meddling with business not her own. It is my business. Tor told herself quietly, firmly, inside her head. Mirage had released her from captivity under Lace. Freedom for freedom. An ally. Mirage had offered her safety in the Edge while the storm had been brewing. There were some complications in life- life was always going to be complicated. She must at least try to help a mare of valor and good deeds, even if the Qian had driven the unicorns out from their home.

The stallion was smaller than her, at least. Tor believed that was to her advantage, her being a draft with quite a bit of brunt behind her blows, but she wasn't sure that made up for her clumsiness. Of course, the horn was the probably, the pearl sword on the guard's head. Even if she could heal herself after battle, it would not be pleasant being stuck with the giant toothpick. He was of warmblood breed, more slender than her, lithe. Speedy, perhaps. Actually, he wasn't too bad-looking- a pale dun with a lion's tail. Eyes of amber stone as well, which reminded her distinctly of Lace. But Lace wasn't running around stealing leaders. One day as a younger mare, she may have found him more than just 'nice-looking'.

Her heart lay in another place, even if Lace did not return her love.

There was a snap as the crystalline world shot into normal pace, the brilliant sapphire skies glowing. Dawn was the start of a new day. Let me win and set her free. Tor gave one last prayer to the gods, and the world sharpened ever further. It was time to give it her best shot. The grass rustled as the large mare rushed forward, ears pinned to ivory skull, rearing up, white teeth bared to snap behind his night-colored ears. She must be careful not to smash herself on the ivory horn, but he would either rise up or be crushed by her forward momentum onto him, as natural horses fought. There was a tightening of her muscle as she rose up onto thickly feathered hind legs. It was no original attack, she knew, but it was a movement well-used for many years of history, because it delivered with such force and strength behind it.


"talk talk talk"
move move move
think think think

WC: -falls over- 782
Attack: Charges and rears up, aiming to crush him and bite behind his ears.
OOC: 1/4 + 0/1 Defense Post



WORDS OF COMPASSION ARE STRONGER THAN ANY ACT OF POWER.

Xanthos Posts: 99
Outcast
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 9 Buff: NOVICE
Azel :: King Cheetah :: Quantum Leap Adoptable
#2

The voice rang out loud and clear, reverberating throughout the frozen land for all to hear. It was with the skip of his heart that Xanthos realized that this challenge was directed right at him, demanding that he come forth and present himself immediately. From the moment he had stolen Mirage, he had anticipated that a fight might come of it, but nothing directed solely at him. He did not want to fight, not when there were others in the Basin much more capable, but now, as Mirage's guard, it was his duty. Surely Romani would be found and dragged here if he simply gaze the Weyrleader up, for despite her fiery nature, the palomino would not be able to fend off the likes of some of his fellow Plague brethern.

With a deep breath, the grullo stepped out from the shelter of the icy caves, and out into the chilly morning air. His golden eyes locked onto the painted draft, instantly going to work at sizing her up. She was much larger than himself, both in height and pure bulk. Xanthos, being of a shorter stature, would be at a disadvantage when it came to power, but with his build, speed was on his side. "I am Mirage's guard," he spoke, his slitted pupils unstraying from the mare's still form. Try as he might, he simply could not read this stranger the same as others. Was she personal acquaintances with Mirage, or had she been sent here in regards to another secrect organization? All these curious questions and more, but none wise enough to ask at this time.

Xanthos had never enjoyed anything more than a friendly spar, and would hardly know of a true battle if not for his homeland in Melhaven. The thick canopy of the tropic island had provided endless opportunities to the wide range of predators there, and more than once, the stallion had found himself nose to nose with a hungry jaguar. It was with these vicious cats that the grullo had learned to truly fend for himself, but when compared to another equine of large stature, the differences were made painfully clear. He could not trample this mare, not that he wanted to, and while he could turn tail and run away, the victory wouldn't be the same as escaping the spotted cats.

His thoughts of home were quick to disipate, however, when he saw the draft lunge forward in a charge.

Considering the distance between the them, Xanthos had plenty of time to react. Hauling his weight onto his haunches, the stallion rose high into the air just as she struck out at him. A good move, he thought, for her massive hooves could land him in a world of hurt if they managed to meet his head. Being taller than he, the mare's teeth were successful in their attempts, nabbing the tender skin where his ear blended into his skull, exposing flesh and bringing forth a spurt of blood. It was a burning sensation, one that would surely last for far longer than he cared to think about, but at least it would heal one day. The black-tipped right ear situated itself against his poll, pressing close against the wound.

Dropping back down to all fours, the snow beneath their feet made its presence well known, nearly taking the stallion's balance away. He had lived in the Steppe long enough to grow accustomed to such slick footing, but that did not take away the slippery element of the snow. Now, standing face to face with the paint, the grullo found the ideal opportunity to return an attack of his own. Muscles tensing beneath him, the stallion propelled himself forward to the best of his ability against the snow, and aimed his crystalline horn right for the mare's shoulder. The scalene group of muscles lay beneath there, and while difficult to reach, they would prove a painful injury if deep contact was made, perhaps even prohibiting the full range of motion of the neck. But the simple move to the side would render his attack mostly pointless, leaving her with only a cut, or even a scratch depending on her speed.

Was this really what it had to come down to? Xanthos, this otherwise gentle soul, fighting with all his might to defend a prisoner? The grullo hated himself to think that it had, but until the battle was over, he would continue on until he could no more.

WC - 747
Defense - Rears up to avoid being clobbered by Tor's hooves, but is bit behind his right ear.
Attack - Charges forward and aims his horn for Tor's shoulder area.
OOC - 1/4. Also, please correct me if I mess anything up on here, tis my first fight on Helovia!


I can see you're losing it

Tor Posts: 197
World's Edge Nurse
Mare :: Equine :: 17.1 :: 9
Adoptable
#3
[Image: winter_snow_by_ladyfey-d5g626q.png]


The first image that resurfaced of Lei was that of a warm summer's eve, the kind where the sky was softened with deep purples and inky blacks, glittering with stars and still with a hint of fair gold at the horizon's line. Lei appeared out of the midnight trees like some dark ghost. So very slender and thin-skinned, and so incredibly tall- taller than Tor, on her stick-thin legs and knobby knees. An ebony tail, that of a lion's, so gracefully wove behind her, hooves cloven stepped without a sound through the forest dark. Once, her eyes had been green, but cataracts and gray films had marbled the moss, and so they were white, a stark contrast to her glistening shadow coat.

"What are you doing here, in the Lost Forest?" And her voice! The shaman's wings stretched, eternal night wings outwards, going forever on. That fine head tilted, one ear cocked- there was a glint of light at the tip of the smooth obsidian horn twisted with faint veins of gold and red deep within.

"I am waiting for you." Tor had said, nervously, but in awe as well.

"I can scent your fear. Do not allow yourself to be hindered by such feelings. Speak to me, young one."

"I want to heal."

"To heal, pain is caused as well."

"Why so?"

"You can only heal something already broken." Tor had paused, pondering the wisdom of the gray-muzzled mare who was scattered richly with white hairs from her age. The Shaman must have been twenty at least, mayhaps even thirty.

"I suppose so, Lady of the Lost. But if pain is caused, it needs to be healed as well." A chuckle had returned Tor's words, and then-

"You are a born healer, I can tell already. Yet I can only warn you you will be made be understanding and feeling the sharp knife of pain of each one you heal and care for." At the time, Tor had almost understood. But she only really realized the truth behind Lei's words weeks after when she began to mend bones and cuts herself.

Now, here she was in Helovia, fighting.

What would Lei say? Lei supported the heart over mind.

Tor knew the heart was often driven by love and understanding.

The mind was driven by need and selfishness.

Which one was driving her to fight?

There needed to be a balance- between the yin and yang energy, between the mind and heart. A balance was always necessary. The paint must've changed though since her coming to Helovia. A name had been forged by her, but she wasn't certain she loved the name, no, the meaning behind it anymore. What was the meaning behind it anyways? Was she a good or bad horse? Was her light and dark spirit balanced? Maybe... Maybe not. I am fighting for an honorable cause. I will come as a hero out of this for one team if I win, and if not, my pride will heal eventually.

She must at least try.

Her teeth caught on muscle and sinew, scraped the flesh from behind his poll. There was the taste of metal and iron in her mouth, the tang filling her mind with a mixture of horror and surprise. Xanthos locked together with her, no fool at least to allow himself to be crushed under her pale hooves. There was the strain of muscle, as the two horses, two titans in this planet of small birds and foxes, pushed against each other, straining for a second. Maybe it was longer. Tor didn't know.

She was attacking someone.

The guard disengaged, dropping to the ground, and Tor could almost imagine the earth shaking under them. A horn clipped her neck, a hoof caught on her broad shoulder. It was a blur, fighting, with a crystalline antler coming at her to cut open. This wasn't a spar- this was a real battle. Instead of moving, she braced herself, and the red sinew under her creamy neck tightened as she lunged forward, white teeth snapping at his horn. It was, by all means, a strange maneuver- if her teeth succeeded on shutting home on the pearl being, she was twist him underneath her, hold him, tell him to let her go. Chances are he would break free from her hold, but a good wrench to the head never was good. With a prayer the gods were on her side, maybe everything would go well.


"talk talk talk"
move move move
think think think

WC: 767
Attack: When he lunges at her, she shifts over, and moves forward to grab at his horn and using that as a lever, hopefully knock him over.
OOC: 2/4 + 0/1 Defense Post



WORDS OF COMPASSION ARE STRONGER THAN ANY ACT OF POWER.

Xanthos Posts: 99
Outcast
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 9 Buff: NOVICE
Azel :: King Cheetah :: Quantum Leap Adoptable
#4

'Stop this madness!' his mind screamed, demanding him to follow the order, 'Or you're just as bad as the very unicorns you've come to hate.' But no matter what his mind told him, no matter how badly he wished to back off from Tor and simply give Mirage up, the stallion feared what consequences might come of it. The two fighting beasts were locked in their own little world, but surely, the eyes of others were cast and locked upon them, ever watchful and wondering who would come out as the champion.

To say that Xanthos was surprised by Tor's next move would have been an understatement. Time seemed to slow as his lunge was practically made in vain. Her teeth were, indeed, successful in nabbing his horn, which would have been an even more incredible feat if the mare managed to keep her mouth from being cut open. The grullo had no time to react to her defense, his head snapping and stretching to the side painfully. His cloven hooves slid and scraped at the snowy ground beneath them to maintain balance. There was a great sensation of tingling that ran from his nape all the way down to the base of his withers, throbbing to the same beat as his racing heart. A muscle had been pulled, no doubt, and it would hinder him for the remainder of the fight and beyond.

But he would not allow her to twist him over like some worthless omega.

The stallion was quick to sidepass his hind end, bringing himself to stand vertical with the paint, putting her at an inconvenience to put forth another attack. With this he threw his head back violently, aiming not only to free himself from her hold, but possibly leave her with an ugly cut depending on which way his horn pulled loose. The action was quite painful for the stallion, given the harsh jerk from only seconds ago, and had not been as powerful as he had originally intended. Still, twelve hundred pounds of force would surely be enough to free him from the draft's clamped mandible.

Years ago, back when he had just left Melhaven as a three year old, the grullo had been unfortunate enough to come across a band of horses who saw his passing through as a challenge. The grumpy stallion, an old red roan going senile in his age, had came at Xanthos with the intentions to fight. But despite the grullo's promises to leave at once, the old leader had lashed out him anyways. Locked in a rear, much like this very fight had begun, the roan had latched onto his horn to try and overpower him, to throw him over onto his side or just keep his head down, but it hadn't been that easy. The poor roan, as much as the unicorn had hated to recall the memory, had lost far too many teeth in that move, not to mention his pride. Would the same happen with Tor?

Once freed, the grullo pivoted to his left, bringing the pair to stand as a one armed cross. There was only a small gap between their bodies, and wasting no time, Xanthos aimed a spring loaded kick for the mare's barrel. He was lighter on his feet than the draft, but that didn't mean she couldn't dodge his attack, or at least lessen the damage it could cause.

'Why are you doing this, Xanthos?' his mind began to persist once again, nagging at him like an old mother, 'This isn't you.' But subconsciously, the grullo pinned his ears against his poll, the naked flesh where Tor had bit him singing as it was touched. No matter what his mind dared to say, no matter how much it begged him to stop, even if he knew he should, he couldn't. If Mirage was won fair and square, would Psyche even honor it? Let the Weyrleader go without a fuss? It was doubtful. The words shared with the Dragonheart rang loud and clear in his head, and truthfully, he wasn't sure what the mare would think of him now, out here fighting to keep her in the Basin. If Romani was here, what would she think? He had not abandoned the idea of slipping away from the Basin in the night, with Mirage at his side, laughing madly as he left behind the horrendous unicorns he once thought he could trust. But he couldn't put the plan into action just yet.

WC - 763
Defense - Throws his head back to try and free himself from Tor's hold.
Attack - Kicks for her barrel.
OOC - 2/4.


I can see you're losing it

Tor Posts: 197
World's Edge Nurse
Mare :: Equine :: 17.1 :: 9
Adoptable
#5
[Image: winter_snow_by_ladyfey-d5g626q.png]


"What in the world happened to him?!" Tor exhaled in a short, quick way that conveyed her worry so clearly. Huge brown eyes crept over the bloodied figure, sorrow in their deep depths. The Shaman, who was at least two or three hands taller than the draft, draping her tail over Tor's backside.

"Battle, apprentice. Caught by surprise, more than one of them likely." The white-haired muzzle reached out to nudge the body, but he did not stir.

It was a small, forlorn figure bleeding into the summer earth, out-of-place with the birds singing and the skies bright and blue without a cloud in sight. He was of an almost delicate-looking shape, not skinny but thin-boned and thin-skinned, a coat the color of sweet chocolate and a mane and tail the shade of the shadows. Maybe he would have struck a handsome figure, or at least an attractive one- but not for the ugly wounds covering his hide. Gaps and holes in it, muscles showing red and bones gleaming white. Dead. There was not a breath of air to leave the pale flesh of rose lungs exposed the earth. Tor would've colicked right there and then if not for Lei's soothing presence, with horses' inability to throw up.

"But why, Lei, why? Why would anyone attack another?"

"I doubt this was the work of just a horse, Tor. Maybe a wolf or cougar, or some other stranger beast that wanders the forest. Most predators would not simply leave their downed prey." Leaves rustled in a breeze, the sweet scent of pine pushing away the tang of blood and the sour odor of death clinging to the bay's corpse. "But as for your question- we challenge each other constantly. It is only the nature of the horse. For land or water, food or lovers, rights and beliefs, superiority." Those blinded, filmy white eyes seemed to gaze right through the small clearing in the pines and oaks.

Challenges were something, helped to compose the world as Tor believed it to be. After all, the Qian had challenged the Edge, and won. Foals had fought parents for their beliefs. Lace had challenged Tor's thoughts, set her wondering if she really loved him, even by rejection. Tor was challenging the grullo to try and set things right, or maybe wrong. Where was she in this mixed-up world filled with wrong alliances and perhaps misjudged beliefs or the right reasons?

"One must forge her own destiny. Tor, for what it's worth, I say you continue to seek your path, continue to move until you find the right place." Ribbons of pink swirled across the horizon as the sun rose, golden rays dancing across the land of the dark forest. Lei's eyes had been serious that day, the eccentric hybrid seeming to know well and true what she was saying, as if she had been down those winding, strange roads.

Forge my path, whether it be through mountains or through forests, under rocks and running on hilltops.

She was forging her path.

Tor's teeth shut over the silver horn. There was a wrench at her mouth, the glittering tip of the pearl sword slicing through the soft, unprotected inner flesh, cutting through to the other end. Her gray muzzle screamed with pain, cried out, and if not for the horn piercing her it, she would have let go. On she held grimly, a mixture of sick pleasure and disgust at her wound and at her causing of injury, as the grullo halted, legs bracing. The silver dagger withdrew from her mouth with a might wrench, clipping her teeth and no doubt now covered in dripping crimson blood.

For a moment, the hot burning sensation of being wounded sidetracked her. It would certainly hurt to bite now, but there was no time to heal the nasty cut that allowed one to look through the clean hole into the inside of her mouth. The mare had stopped paying attention to Xanthos, an amateur's mistake she would pay for when two hooves slammed into her ribcage. More pain flowered upon her gray flanks, but it did compare to the burning sensation of her mouth.

There wasn't any time to calculate the possible injury attributed to her flank now- with a squeal she snapped after his rump, hoping for a clean bite, even if pain did flourish ever more in her cheek. With a leap and a stride, she drew parallel to his gray shoulder, and ears pinned to a white skull, her mouth cut towards his withers. She couldn't allow him to win this battle- she could not afford it. Mirage needed her help. Needed her help before something... bad happened to her.


"talk talk talk"
move move move
think think think

WC: 799
Attack: Bites at rump when hit in side by Xanthos' kick- turns and draws parallel, bites at his withers.
Defence: None
OOC: 3/4 + 0/1 Defense Post



WORDS OF COMPASSION ARE STRONGER THAN ANY ACT OF POWER.

Xanthos Posts: 99
Outcast
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 9 Buff: NOVICE
Azel :: King Cheetah :: Quantum Leap Adoptable
#6

"But why, momma?" The colt's voice came, full of confusion and a tinge of fear, "Why would someone do that?" The sight laid out before them was an awful one; an elder mare that had been in the herd for longer than anyone to count, was stretched out on the mossy ground in front of them, her greyed sides unmoving no matter how hard Xanthos tried to imagine otherwise.

The dun standing at his side let out a breath, and dropping her head, she gently pulled her child closer. She had not wished for the youngster to ever stumble across something like this, but then, Xanthos had always been notorious for wandering when he shouldn't. A dangerous thing in Melhaven, but luckily, the colt would learn quick before it was too late. "It is the way of life, my son," her soothing voice came, doing wonders to assure the little colt as he continued to watch the still form. "She was old, and if the leopards do not get us first, it will happen to us all."

With a horrified look, Xanthos looked up to his mother and stamped a hoof, almost without realizing it. "That isn't fair," the grullo huffed, remaining ignorant to this sad fact of life his mother was trying to explain, "She was nice, and I..." But he trailed off then, unsure of what to say, and it made him twitch his still short tail in annoyance. The grey mare had indeed been kind, and it was a wonder she had made it this long with her declining health, but this did nothing to douse the colt's anger.

"That may be so," the yellowed mare continued, pressing her muzzle into her son's shoulder to further comfort him, "But it is a fact of life. Life is short, and you must always remember to treat those you meet with dignity and respect. What if you had never met dear Isis, or treated her as I taught you?" With this, her eyes flashed briefly to the still form of the grey before returning to her son, "And the last thing you said to her was something nasty and mean. You should never hate, or fight without reason, Xanthos."

At this, the colt had quieted, allowing the words to soak into his young mind. Doing anything mean was not in his nature, nor would it ever be. The mere thought didn't settle well with the little grullo, and even if his mother's words didnt' make much sense now, they would in later years.


Especially right now, Xanthos could hear his mother's words echoing loud and clear in his ears. He did not know Tor, but he had jumped blindly into a fight against her, hardly even questioning himself on the acts he was committing. 'Forgive me, mother,' he said in his head, and in that instant, his mind faded back into reality.

It was the scraping of teeth on his rump that had pulled him from his thoughts, everything returning to the fast pace of battle. He let loose a squeal as the hair was pulled away, exposing a bare spot of black skin, and took a leap forward. It stung him worse than any bee, but given the thick muscles packed into his hindquarters, it would hardly put a stop to his attacks. He was on all fours now, having recovered from the kick, and his attention was pinned to Tor as she came around to his side.

Digging cloven hooves into the cold ground, he strode once or twice forward until the draft lashed out for his shoulder. When her head had twisted in his direction, the grullo propelled his body to the side in her direction, hoping to slam into her and throw her off balance. His neck screamed in pain when it came crashing into the mare with the rest of him, if he was even successful in his attempts, and had him scrambling to regain his own balance once there was a gap between them. Her teeth had made contact with the thin skin of his neck, however, gnashing and pulling a bit away to expose tender flesh. Being a thicker, taller build than himself, it was unlikely that the mare would fall, but hopefully it would do something.

Even as he fought on, Xanthos found himself wondering what he would do if he did indeed win; would he even be happy he had won? No, for it meant he would have bloodied some mare whose very name was a mystery to him. But that didn't mean he wished to lose. The rest of the Aurorans would look on at him with shame in there eyes, and he would be even more worthelss than he was already.

WC - 800
Injury - Is bitten in the rump and neck.
Attack - Slams into the side of Tor to try and knock her over/make her lose her balance.
OOC - 3/4.


I can see you're losing it

Tor Posts: 197
World's Edge Nurse
Mare :: Equine :: 17.1 :: 9
Adoptable
#7
[Image: winter_snow_by_ladyfey-d5g626q.png]


"Mother, can you tell me a story? Please?" The sweet filly asked, round-eyed, in her coat of black and white. The Friesian next to her, sheltering her, laughed quietly, seeming to think over something.

"Have you ever heard the story of the Brave Bear?" Blackfoot asked, nuzzling Tor's forelock comfortingly.

"No mother, I haven't!" Tor cried out earnestly, looking up eagerly to welcome a new legend.

"Well then, it all began a long time ago, but it happens now too. The Bear was a big old bear, with soft snowy white fur and squinting eyes. He roamed the ice without a fear, but he knew which battles to take and which to avoid. My mother told me this story when I was just your age.

"Bear was searching for the Laughing Seal, the slippery prey that had evaded him for years without a fear. He came grumbling after it, searched the ice for days, and finally, sick of no prey to hunt and find, sat down on the ice and cried
'Mother Dove, Mother Dove, I have no food to eat and I will starve!'

"Mother Dove came with her soft eyes and listened to his moaning of despair.
'Bear, do you have no faith in me? Walk to the far North, where you will find the Wily Fox. She will ask you for your deepest secret, your one and only fear. If you give it to him, the seal will be plentiful. But be warned, Bear- you will need to be very brave to do so.'

"Bear walked the ice north, and indeed, just as Mother Dove had said, found the Fox waiting for him with her clever eyes and soft fur.
'Bear, what is your greatest fear?'

"And Bear paused, and thought.
'My greatest fear is messing up.' He said. The Fox cried out in laughter, but there was prey."

Was she being a fool? Was she destroying the name of healer she had created for herself? What was she doing? Tor didn't know at this point. But she did know she was afraid of messing up, afraid of doing the wrong thing. Afraid of hurting someone instead of healing.

The massive heart pumping in the mare's chest skipped a beat in fear as Xanthos crashed into her. For a moment, everything was a rush, a blur around her as she went plunging towards the ground before managing to right herself, pelt tingling in nerves. If one fell down, they were down for good. But despite his full-body check, her bite was successful. Tor's sliced mouth was on fire when she locked her teeth around the unicorn's withers. There was the grotesque feeling of teeth scraping on flesh and hair, the ragged crack as her teeth clicked before she pulled her head back. A tug at her muscles as she wrenched herself away from him, and then she stopped, turning on her haunches to face him.

The sun continued its way into the sky, blazing its fiery path into the azure, it's warm rays soaking into the frost-touched earth, setting each blade dripping with heavy dew, glittering with golden light. A breeze shivered the treetops, but it didn't touch her face, did not obscure her vision of him. "Are you done yet?" Her voice is solemn, distrustful, and a note haughty, a tone she rarely, if ever, uses. But there will be no finish until the two of them break apart, and stay down panting, flanks heaving for a chance to breathe.

Since neither of them are quite at that point in the cool morning air, she launches back into the fast pace of attack. Her hooves beat a quick tattoo on the wet grass that showers her feathers in droplets. Still her white ears remain pinned, her eyes grim. There is no love in this fight, neither of them wanting to hurt or fight each other, even if the two of them do not know their feelings are so similar. So the two will fight anyways in a thunderous clash.

She snaps at his lion's tail first. A dangerous maneuver maybe, if successful, for he may be agile enough to twist around and get her- and if she were to let go, it would never be in time. At the same time her teeth come shutting together, her hind legs flash out, searching for his solid flank and the hefty blow that will come to it, mimicking his own barrel kick. It is awkward, certainly, this twisted position with her neck twisted for her large head to crush the delicate bones in the tail, and her hind end angled so that the kick could be delivered well enough. Fortunately, it is doable.


"talk talk talk"
move move move
think think think

WC: 800
Attack: Attempts to bite his tail and maybe dislocate it- kicks at his flanks.
Defense: Is nearly knocked down by Xanthos but pulls herself up.
OOC: 4/4 + 0/1 Defense Post



WORDS OF COMPASSION ARE STRONGER THAN ANY ACT OF POWER.

Xanthos Posts: 99
Outcast
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 9 Buff: NOVICE
Azel :: King Cheetah :: Quantum Leap Adoptable
#8

Time slowed once Xanthos could no longer feel the paint's body pressed against his own, and it was with sick satisfaction that he watched her massive form plunge towards the ground. But just when he thought his move had proven successful, the draft righted herself, and rose to her full height once again. "Of course," the grullo cursed inwardly, uncertain what would ensue now.

Tor spoke then, and with a sharp snort the stallion planted all fours into the slippery ground beneath, sliding several inches, but bringing himself to a halt. Turning to face the mare, he regarded her with a look of uncertainty, the yellows of his eyes sparked with fire. Although the fight had only begun mere minutes ago, it felt as though it had been waging for hours. He might have believed it, too, if not for the sun finally revealing itself from behind the mountains surrounding them. Yes, he was ready for this fight to be over, ready before it had even started. At that moment, all he wanted to do was disapepar, and go anywhere but here. Far, far away from the Basin. Maybe Romani and her leaders would welcome him, or he could always wander as an outcast again. It was a lonely life, but one filled with nothing but your own choices. There were so many things he wanted to wish away, to forget, but all his musing were quickly washed away when he caught the tightening of muscles within his opponent's chest to signal another coming attack. Oh, how he wished things could be easier sometimes.

Xanthos could not figure out for the life of him what the paint was doing when she ran at him, only to surpass him and go for his tail, of all things. Caught by surprise from her choice of attack, the grullo felt an agonizing pain shoot from the tip of his tail and up through his spine. It would be some nearly impossible not to have some sort of fracture within all the tiny bones that made up his leonine tail. With a squeal of pain, the stallion lunged forward and gave a sharp twitch of his tail in hopes to pull it free from Tor's bloody grip. The move might have further damaged the tail, but he could not stop himself from surging forward.

It hurt, but it was a good thing he had done.

The mare's kick could have easily brought some heavy damage to his flank, but his moving forth had lessened it greatly. Her hooves managed to hit him just behind the hip; another devastating hit, had it been more direct or at closer range. It would still cause the grullo discomfort for some time, however, and possibly even bruise.

Having put a small gap of distance between himself and Tor, Xanthos whirled on his hocks to find himself catacorner with the mare. With little hesitation, now, the stallion lifted himself into the air, front legs stretching out to strike for the paint's pale back. A possibly fatal move, if the blows hit hard enough in the right places. He had learned of this simple attack back in Melhaven from his dear mother; a creatures spine was nearly as important as it's head, for if the back was damaged, regular functions such as finding food or even moving at all were made impossible.

But Xanthos wasn't some mindless killer. Sure, a part of him wanted to win, but at the same time, a part wished to lose. His honor, if he had any left, would be gone entirely, but at least Mirage would be freed and could return to her homeland... If that was what Tor had in mind for the Weyrleader.

WC - 623
Injury - Tail is bitten and possibly fractured. Kicked just behind the hip, possibly bruised.
Attack - Rears up and strikes out in hopes to hit her back.
OOC - 4/4.


I can see you're losing it

Tor Posts: 197
World's Edge Nurse
Mare :: Equine :: 17.1 :: 9
Adoptable
#9
[Image: winter_snow_by_ladyfey-d5g626q.png]


There was always, always, a price to pay. For good or bad, for crime or for heroics- there was always another tax. It was something Mother Blackfoot had taught, taught very well, to a younger Tor. Here the draft was, collecting the tax that Xanthos owed for keeping the lady Mirage against her will, for thieving her under the cloak of friendship, for giving her the false promise of loyalty when he had dragged her here to be bloodied and likely tortured. Was it, maybe, wrong of the Dragonheart to invade the ex-Edge? Yes, but why, how, did the Auroreans think they would solve the problem by attacking them ever further? By stealing them?

Trouble, that’s what they would get. “Now don’t you go sticking your nose into that hole of trouble, Tor, because the monster inside it will give you a nice bite on the nose if you’re lucky.” Father Whitewood had constantly told her, until the message was imprinted on the inside of her head. Well, along with other countless life lessons- “You get what you give”, “A cold heart is a lost horse”, “Fighting never solves the problem”, “Violence only causes more violence”. There is a twinge of guilt twanging her heart as her teeth crush the fragile bones of the grullo’s slender tail. She was breaking every law she had abided to, every law she had told others countless times to not do. “Whatever did you do to yourself, Phaedra?” “You should take better care of yourself.” For those reason, she had done so much as well. Forged friendships and discovered not to rely on stereotypes.

She had changed even more, changed ever more as she tended to do. Lei had always told her she was good at adapting to the circumstances, to work under pressure- but now Tor wondered uneasily if this was more of a bad thing.

The sun glowed in her eyes, blinding her momentarily before she turned her head, shielding herself from the hot pain, her hooves still moving underneath her. Then the now-slimed fur of his lion’s tail was gone, and the pain in her mangled mouth even worse. It was pain unlike she had ever experienced- by now it had widened to a sizeable amount, the blood not stopping either. She must’ve pierced a nerve- but she couldn’t recall Lei saying much about mouth wounds. It was, after all, nearly impossible to somehow spear yourself in the mouth. Sure, Lei had told her about scratches on the tongue, thistles and such, but never how to treat a gaping abyss in the side of your muzzle!

She wasn’t surprised to see, or rather feel, as he moved by, evading her mule kick except for a firm clip. It wasn’t a jolt, exactly, that run through her hind- a subtle thrumming, maybe, would have better describe the draft’s feeling.

Even despite her luck, or not that she would ever say so, maybe a little to do with some hidden natural skill she had surpassed, squashed, and suffocated with learning to heal, Tor didn’t know who would win the fight. No idea how quickly or long they make take. Now she was just hoping it would end soon, so she didn’t have to cause more pain. Was it really justifiable, causing more pain to save pain from another? It didn’t make sense! It simply wasn’t... logical. So why was Tor fighting? Why was the peaceful healer confusing, baffling, herself by fighting? She was torn between wanting to cry and wanting to hide or run. Her legs did not ache, she was only a little short of breath- but the mental pain was even more excruciating than the hot fireworks on the side of her muzzle.

Tor was damaging someone. For several months, if he went without a healer. Even if d’Artagan healed Xanthos, she had done it. Tor was the one who had decided to fight. At this point, the only reason she kept going was knowing she had already done irreparable damage to her reputation, and the hope of saving Mirage. Not for Lace, not for the Edge- but because maybe it would redeem herself, even if just a little.

The draft was only half-way through her turn to face him when he came leaping at her out of nowhere. He was shorter than her, however- but it was only the rush of fear, the predatory sense, that made her go leaping sideways in terror. There was a deep pang of shame somewhere inside her chest as she remembered running from the wolves, leaving Lace and Sohalia. Maybe it was the primitive instinct that saved her. But it didn’t make her feel better.

She didn’t waste time. “We are done.” The words were empty, but true. “We are done.”

"talk talk talk"
move move move
think think think

WC: 797
Defense: Releases tail and moves back up the hill towards the cave to avoid Xanthos' rear
OOC: 4/4 + 1/1 Defense Post



WORDS OF COMPASSION ARE STRONGER THAN ANY ACT OF POWER.

Official Posts: 847
Administrator
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
Official
#10




T o r | X a n t h o s
- - - - -
By my verdict XANTHOS is the winner.

TOR -- post 1 (attack only)

[Realism]
+ 1| Attack: rear
+ 1| Attack: bite

[Prose]
+ 2| Emotion
+ 1| Flow
+ 1| Easy read

XANTHOS -- post 1

[Realism]
+ 1| Defense: rears also
+ 1| Defense: takes the bite – although her teeth cannot really cause blood to squirt out.
+ 1| Attack: horn

[Prose]
+ 2| Emotion
+ 1| Flow
+ 1| Easy read

TOR -- post 2

[Realism]
+ 1| Defense: horn clip – although he never pointed his horn at your neck when rearing, by her biting his ear I could see it happening.
- 1| Defense: hoof scrape – his hooves however, were unnecessary damage when he did not attack with them.
- 1| Defense: biting horn – if he is rushing at her she would have a hard time angling herself just right, much less gripping a smooth, moving horn with her teeth which aren’t meant for much but grinding grass.
- 1| Attack: horn flip – she would not have the power to flip him over by his horn assuming she could bite it. Horses are very balanced and with a lower center of gravity. Watching deer rut you can also see how much they can take having antlers locked without flipping over.

[Prose]
+ 1| Emotion
+ 1| Flow
+ 1| Easy read

XANTHOS -- post 2

[Realism]
+ 1| Defense: jerked by horn
+ 1| Attack: cut with horn
+ 1| Attack: kick

[Prose]
+ 2| Emotion
+ 1| Flow
+ 1| Easy read

TOR -- post 3

[Realism]
+ 1| Defense: cut in mouth
- 1| Defense: kicked in ribs – a bad spot to be kicked and you seemed to brush off the damage.
- 1| Injury: rib kick - you didn’t explain the injury at all
+ 1| Attack: biting rump – you just said how painful her mouth is and how it would hurt to use it, I’m not sure why you chose to use it here so soon after the injury and saying that, I could see it as a reflex more than anything.
0| Attack: biting withers – still confused why using mouth attacks right now.

[Prose]
+ 1| Emotion
+ 1| Flow
+ 1| Easy read

XANTHOS -- post 3

[Realism]
+ 1| Defense: bite to rump
+ 1| Defense: slam
+ 1| Attack: slam
+ 1| Injury: neck twinge

[Prose]
+ 1| Emotion
+ 1| Flow
+ 1| Easy read

TOR -- post 4

[Realism]
+ 1| Defense: stumbled
- 1| Power Play: “But despite his full-body check, her bite was successful.” Xanthos did not say her bite succeeded in his last post, as he was using the slam to deflect it, nor did he say the slam’s success or failure would mean success of your bite.
+ 1| Attack: tail bite
+ 1| Attack: kick

[Prose]
+ 1| Emotion
+ 1| Flow
+ 1| Easy read

XANTHOS -- post 4

[Realism]
+ 1| Defense: bite to tail
+ 1| Defense: hip kicked
+ 1| Attack: rear at spine

[Prose]
+ 1| Emotion
+ 1| Flow
+ 1| Easy read

TOR -- post 5 (defense only)

[Realism]
- 1| Defense: evade – this was a close succession attack so unlikely she’d completely avoid and it was confusing as to whether you even mentioned it or not.


TOR

[Bonus]
+ 1| Breed
+ 1| Surroundings

[Injuries]
0| Mouth injury – unless she had been stabbed in her throat or gums, it wouldn’t be as bloody or painful as you say; the kick to her ribcage would have hurt more for instance. You describe it as piercing her cheek, which is not as vital or sensitive.

[Creativity]
+ 1| Grabbing a horn is an interesting tactic.
+ 1| I also enjoyed you grabbing for his tail, it was humorous, although that is a good way to get your head kicked!

Comments: I definitely saw a big improvement in this fight over some previous one’s you’ve had. You did very well with playing more on your emotions and getting me more attached to the character, I loved her moral dilemma with the fight, although sometimes it seemed your emotions and back story was distracting as you included it so much. I would like to see more focus on the fighting portion, such as describing more about not just what the scenery is, but how it affects you as you fight (i.e. slipping in snow) along with more focus on describing your injuries and remembering how they will affect you the rest of the fight. You have a good grasp on the choices of defense and attack, but sometimes your attack choices, though mostly plausible, were not always ideal for the situation or came with pain for your character as well. Maybe research the normal ways horses fight a bit more to understand more of the physics before trying to get too crazy with some attacks. Overall though you did very well and I definitely see a marked improvement.

XANTHOS

[Bonus]
+ 1| Breed
+ 2| Surroundings
+ 1| Health

[Injuries]
None.

[Creativity]
+ 1| I very much enjoyed the way you described the internal struggle happening with Xanthos.

Comments: This was excellent for your first fight. You showed an incredible skill with describing injuries and remembering to play upon them later in the fight, as well as using your surroundings and breed differences – these are normally things people don’t touch upon as well as you did until they are decently experienced. You definitely had a great grasp for fighting mechanics, showing you understood positioning and timing well, although there were some scenarios you didn’t utilize to your full potential of attack (Tor put herself in some dangerous situations to attack you that you could have easily used, like kicking her head when she bit your tail, which also would have been a natural response) or defense (you took almost every hit). You played very well on the emotions, I felt very understanding of why Xanthos did everything and his moral issues with the fit might it entertaining to read. Just keep doing what you’re doing!

TOTAL
TOR - 68
XANTHOS - 72


Image Credit: dirkjankraan @ Flickr


Forum Jump:


RPGfix Equi-venture