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