Wing beats pounded against the ears of the stallion. It was subtle, at first, easily mistaken for the gentle wind that rustled his feathers, feathers that were folded against his flanks as he stood in the middle of the Meadow, awaiting whomever may come. The call that tumbled through the winds surprised him, at first. Eyes rolled about their cases, searching the skies for the maw of the chocolate mare that had trumpeted said call, the mare whom he had dedicated his battle prowess to. It was surely fitting that they should be pitted against each other, on friendly terms, testing the other out. They saw the world in similar hues, they had held their positions of power within the Throat since their successful invasion. They had aided another herd in invading, and now held strong ties with them. Together, they had accomplished so much.

Why hadn't they done this sooner?

Happiness echoed through the exuberant baritone that returned the call of the mare, though it was neglectful of him to do so - as his mouth gaped open, the spear which he twirled so effortlessly fell to the ground. It was well enough, for he would not need to use the silver-pointed weapon in this battle, though the distraction took precious seconds of his time. He should have known better than to take his eyes off her for a second, for with a swiftness hinted at him by the increasing wind, Azzuen snapped his head back up in time to see his leader swooping him. Shit! was the thought that tumbled haphazardly through his crown, as he scrambled forward - though it was not in time to completely miss the impact of knees against flesh. As his steps dragged him forward, Kri's flight path crossed the soft, muscular flesh of his rump, skittering his hips to the right, as she impacted him upon his left side.

The bruises would ache, but the fact that his hips were able to swing away with the impact meant lesser damage was dealt than if the move had struck his barrel. Kri packed a hefty punch - something he had always known yet never experienced himself, and he was glad to unfurl his wings and push himself to the skies so that she wouldn't see him limp from the lapse of judgement. Limbs forced him onwards as fast as they could scramble his balance back together, the meadow providing easy traction, the breeze filling his wings with the necessary lift to allow his athletic chassis to once more take to the air. The spear was left behind but not forgotten - he would collect it later.

Chasing her down, like a cat chases a mouse, he as always, noted their similar builds, their fierce personalities, their matching warrior's prides. With a grin he hoped to angle his flight in behind her own, though there were a few horse-lengths still between them, and he was not sure whether she had recovered from her swooping dive at him, or whether she was preparing her next assault upon his body - if he knew her, which he thought he did, well enough, she was probably doing both.

The air hummed with static then, as the stallion called upon the magic that he was born with. Dreadlocks stood on end, though when in flight, it hardly made a difference between wingbeats and thermals tugging at the knotted strands. He focussed upon his leader, and with practised accuracy and efficiency, he aimed his ability at her sight - hoping to steal it, nullify it, render it completely dysfunctional. No sooner had he done this, did he proceed to increase his wingbeats, and heave himself closer, swallowing the distance between them, so that he may lay a physical blow upon her cocoa hide.

Teeth reach out from behind charred lips as he aims at her rump, angling his flight higher in hopes that her dangling hindlegs would not strike out at him, using the very powerful muscles he was attempting to bruise against him. As he did this, he pushed forward again with his broad wingspan, his chest likely to connect with the back of her thighs, disrupting her aerial balance, or otherwise, just upsetting her enough to make her pull a stupid move, one that would allow him to rise victorious from this meeting.


[726 words.
Post: 1/2.
Magic: 1/2.
Azzuen skitters forwards and to the side as a result of her sky-ram, then proceeds to take flight and follow Kri.
Uses his magic to steal her sight, so that he can get close to her. Reaches out to bite her rump and chest-ram her from behind to knock her off balance. ]

larfsalot.deviantart.com