the Rift


In all due respect [Azzuen]

Lace the Silverthorn Posts: 459
Deceased atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 15.3 hh :: 14 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Fajira :: Plain White Dragon :: Fire Breath Chan
#1

LACE</style>
before the sun sets
GLORY
</style>


[set directly after their spar]

What could compare to the pleasure of testing your limits and find that you have yet to fail your own expectations? That you are about as strong as you believed yourself to be, and that measuring yourself against a worthy opponent doesn't leave you humbled, regretful and bitter?

As the light-hearted laughter of the Ardent rang across the spring green Meadow, Lace found himself laughing along with the general. He had yet to fully catch his breath after their clash, and even though muscles ached and bruises complained for every step, how could he resist charging after the disappearing pegasus?

The sound of his own hooves thundering against the ground made the heart throb, sending a surge of adrenaline into the bloodstream that was almost more powerful than the one he'd felt when in the midst of the spar. It took some effort to catch up to the long-legged stallion, but as he did Lace could just as well have been a young colt again, filled with endless energy; he bucked into the air just as he came up alongside Azzuen, sending grass and dirt flying. An offended screech could be heard from the pale dragon that came flapping after him, as clods of mud splattered her pristine scales with dirt. Her bonded simply laughed though, too high on life to feel any regret.

Gradually the surge of energy began to die down, and as it did the pace of the grulla slowed with it. Eventually he found himself standing not far from the banks of the river; tired, sore, but in a mood that was exceedingly good.

"A good spar" he admitted to the other stallion, the first words uttered since the introductions before the beginning of the bout. "I'm glad I don't have to meet you on the battlefield, or I'd have more than bruises at the end of the day."

With a content grunt he allowed the front legs to fold beneath him, easing his bulk to the ground in order to ease the itch of drying sweat upon the hide. Was it rude to flail the hooves in the air like that in front of the Throat's General? Lace didn't think so, at least. To him, the winged warrior felt much like an equal seeing as they shared experience, skill, even alliance. There should be no need to stand on ceremony with a fellow soldier, now was there?

CREDITS: Schwartze | venomxbaby | 116802
BronzeHalo.deviantart.com
♦ Permission granted to use magic and violence on Lace and Fajira
♦ Only tag in new threads, spars and if it's urgent
The Store | The Warden

Ázzuen the Ardent Posts: 94
Deceased
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 15.1 :: 8
Whit
#2

Smiles creased the edges of his lips, the expression was true and deep, reaching from his charred kissers to the light-hearted, soulful amusement that glittered behind his now-sky blue pools. They had changed from the sparky, electric yellow that had initiated the spar, to this lighter, happier, relaxed hue, suggestive of the clear skies above, or perhaps a cool, freshwater pool. Laughter rumbled once again, as similar to a pair of colts, both stallions relished in the rush of exercise, the endorphins that were stirred caused one to feel invincible, even if they had only proven that the other could potentially beat them into a pulp. It mattered little, for here they ran, together, two souls, pitted as allies against a common foe once, then as foes to each other, now as friends. It was a warrior's tale, one that Azzuen was glad to share in.

Wings stretched out slightly as he ran alongside the silver beast, likely adding to the dirt being scattered up behind them, and into the face of the little white dragon. As they began to slow, Azzuen spread them out, stretching them as well as scooping up what air came rushing towards him now (or was it he that ran, and created the air?), and took a flying leap. He didn't take to the skies, however, instead keeping his legs stretched out to land upon them once more. It was good to get his wings moving again, though the area Lace had managed to bite throbbed slightly, and his left foreleg still wasn't completely sound. It could bear his weight, along with his wings in flight, and he wouldn't be much of a warrior without some bruises toughening him up along the way, anyway. Recklessly, Azzuen tossed his cranium about, his wild, unruly locks splayed outwards, upwards, sideways - every which way that could be called haphazard.

He grinned as Lace spoke his words, bending his own form to view the stallion, nodding in agreement. "It is good to know one's allies are capable." He murmured in reply, his voice gravelly and rough from the exertion of the spar. He watched in silence as Lace bowed to the earth, his own skin prickling from the sweat that had formed, his body yearning for similar treatment. The river ran close by, and with a handful of steps drawing him closer, he submerged himself. It was another workout in itself, gripping the riverbed with his hooves as the current pressed against his broad chest, washing over the contours of his muscles and drawing out the inflammations, swellings, soothing the tired ache of muscles that have faced a hard day's endurance. The General allowed the waters to roll over him, holding his wings high above the water, however, before allowing a beckoning call to roll over the waves from his deep voice, urging the dragon and horse to join him in the water.

[ I was thinking that once they stop bathing (lol) they could chat a bit about alliances etc ^^ ]

larfsalot.deviantart.com


Lace the Silverthorn Posts: 459
Deceased atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 15.3 hh :: 14 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Fajira :: Plain White Dragon :: Fire Breath Chan
#3


LACE</style>
before the sun sets
GLORY
</style>


The grulla grunted something incoherent in response, agreeing to the statement and with little to add. He kept on rolling back and forth, scrubbing the back against the ground while releasing the fresh scent of ethereal oils from the young grasses. All but shivering from the pleasure of staving off the itch, Lace took his time and savored the comfortable situation. A spar, a run, the sensation of exerting himself without putting the life at risk... Add to that the rare company of a stallion instead of the normal pack of mares that normally swarmed around him nowadays, and life was glorious.

He only returned back upon his feet when a call from Azzuen invited him over to the river. Heaving himself up onto the legs with broken and crushed grass raining down from the back, he began to walk over towards the newly made friend with the dragon flying around his back, ears pricked forward and with the neck held low and relaxed. The water of the river was cold, the current strong; Lace took his time to ease down into the stream, sighing from comfort as the waters raised to envelop his sore body. Watching with amusement as Fajira transformed into a lethal sea monster that dove and swam around their legs, the Glazier took his sweet time grooming and cleansing himself, in a ritual so familiar that for a while he almost pictured himself back on the road. Ever wandering, ever fighting, always surrounded by stranger and resting after battles with gruff, hard-boiled soldiers, a stranger in strange lands and always prepared for the worst...

With a sigh he slipped out into deeper waters until only the head and neck rose above the surface, and turned to regard the pegasus next to him. Quietly the yellow eyes admired the massive wings, not for the first time feeling a pang of jealousy while wondering what it would be like to fly freely across the sky.
"I never understood why some hate your kind, or anyone with differences in appearance for that matter" he said quietly, washing away the silence with the soft tunes of the voice. Far more gentle than his hooves or teeth, the tone was thoughtful - almost dreaming.

"Is it jealousy, fear, or lack of understanding? Where I was born there was no magic, no pegasi or unicorns... The first time I laid eyes upon a winged horse I thought I was going mad, or had fallen asleep somewhere and strayed into a dream."

A faint smile tugged at the lips at the memory, somewhat lopsided as he remembered his own reactions.

"How has the Throat been faring lately? We don't get many news from the south these days... Do you have problems with the Basin as well?"


CREDITS: Schwartze | venomxbaby | 116802
BronzeHalo.deviantart.com
♦ Permission granted to use magic and violence on Lace and Fajira
♦ Only tag in new threads, spars and if it's urgent
The Store | The Warden


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