A sensible lady would be finding shelter in this storm, but it seems like this idiot has other ideas. With a heavy sigh, I look up into the sky, seeing the wet, black and white body of the bitch calling out my name. I figured this girl was probably the former leader of the Foothills, the one Leander had spoken of during our little spat - Svetlana? With tired eyes I look upward, a raindrop landing with a splat in my eye. Fuck. Did I have to deal with this loudmouth now? When she followed my name up with a challenge, my question was answered: yes, I would. That was risking her life already, floating around in the sky that was thundering rain and the strike of electric light, was simply not enough - she wanted me to put my life on the line as well.

It was my life or my title.

I would have my life over this title, so I pause, thinking about allowing this little wench and Leander to run off into the sunset with their senseless rule. I would be free from the chains of leadership, which had been weighing my heart steadily down, tugging at my frame and making me bow before my own fate as of late. The thought is brilliant, heartwarming, to be able to shake my shackles loose and allow those who would rule stupidly to ruin my land with their own strength. Between a stallion who treats rules as optional and a girl who thinks flying through a thunderstorm is safe, the Throat would surely come to collapse upon itself. The thought lasts only a moment before the faces of my daughter, my Generals, the Oracle, and all of those who placed their faith in me rise behind my eyelids. All of those hearts, their hope placed in my reign, in my own power, still beating in time with my own heart. Before I even take another breath, the thought of these individuals being subject to the torment of thoughtless rule puts my muscles into motion.

The fools could rule their own land, but they would not destroy my family with their carelessness. Who did I work for? It was not for myself, to boost my own ego or pride, it was for those who trusted in my words. I was the leader of the Tuuli. I worked to keep them safe. I would not bow to this idiotic bitch in the clouds today, not as long as my kin still had faith in me.

My grey hooves beat the red mud, my wings unfurling from my back. The wind that follows me quietly now draws up, pushing from under my wings and pulling me easily into the sky. Let this Svetlana challenge me into battle; she will regret it in just a few short moments. "You are on a fool's errand, girl," I call forward, my eyes meeting with the expanse of black wings and the dripping white frame above. "I will not lose to you." I grit my teeth, pushing down with my wings to bring me closer to the ceiling of grey clouds, the wind pushing me from behind and increasing the speed of my ascent. The rain pounds on my body and slides in cold rivers from my muscles. I steel myself against the crack of thunder that booms across the sky. I could not lose focus now. I am not fighting for myself. I cannot fold. I must answer. I must win. I have no choice.

I approach from the left side of the larger mare, my legs pointed out before me like knives as I drive forward, locking my wings to glide easily, increasing in speed. I raise myself so that my ram would be easy to escape; I did not want to make contact only to crumple against her side. I aim to batter her left side and wing with my front hooves, hopefully bruising the flesh beneath, if not drawing blood. I snake my head around to snap at her pole and neck as I would be passing over her back and rump, more of a deterrence for revenge than an attempt to injure. The arch of movement would be ended with a kick from my hind legs as I pass onto her right side, trying to escape her clutches. My wing tips brush uncomfortably with the grey clouds above our heads, rain blurring my vision and likely my aim.

Still, I am unafraid.
""

[ 1/4; 793 words; wind magic is passive and will slowly die out over the course of the battle. ]