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"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
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![[Image: winter_snow_by_ladyfey-d5g626q.png]](http://fc01.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2012/271/6/a/winter_snow_by_ladyfey-d5g626q.png)
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(JUDGE) price to pay [xan, challenge]
