The call was familiar. A well known voice, a well known edge to the wordless cry, and it called him. Begged him to come, enticed him like the red sheet before a bulls nose. Ready from the get go, prepared to put this youngster to the test, as he wished.
Personally, Lace found the colt much too young to call the shots on the battlefield. Able, yes, capable of dealing great damage. But not ready for the burden of a General's cloak, not in many years. He understood the wish to be of use, to make a name for himself, to be taken seriously, because he had shared it when he was at that age. But that was also precisely why he couldn't approve of Aarons desire to rise in rank. He was so young still, with so much to see and do before he took up the burden of responsibility. If the seasoned veteran had anything to say in the matter, he would have the young warrior enjoy life for a while longer before the light of his eyes could get clouded by the harsh realities of life.
He slipped out from the surrounding forest as quietly as he could, hiding in the blind spot of Aaron's vision that was located right behind the rump. Taking the risk of being spotted and receiving a kick in the face, Lace hoped to sneak up on the colt and place a sharp nip on the broad flank before quickly dodging away to the right.
Once his cover was blown, the older stallion pulled away until he was out of reach, placing himself head to dock with the painted draft, eyes glittering with mischief as he sneakily assessed the boy. Equal in height, but thicker in built, slower but also younger - thus possessing more expendable energy and a flexible mind. He was obviously not inexperienced, but whether he was a match for the former mercenary remained to be seen. Lace was aware of the fire magic that burned within the chest of the boy, he'd seen it first hand during the invasion - but how it worked and what the boundaries for it was, that he didn't know. Hopefully he wouldn't have to learn anytime soon either, unless the paint wanted a more serious spar.
Was he in a mood for play, or would the tree-marked stallion have to deal with the grumpiness of a teenager wishing to prove his worth? It remained to be seen; he wondered if Aaron was aware of the pale dragon that came slipping through the grass from his other side, quiet and focused as if she was hunting. And she was. Not for meat and something to fill her belly, no, but for excitement. For a chance to surprise this young earthbound horse that was many times bigger than herself, and make him respect her sharp teeth and glistening claws.
"I'll take you on, boy! Come at me however you want!" Lace suddenly cried out, attempting to draw the attention of the young Protector. At the same time, Fajira leaped out of the concealing grasses of the meadow, hissing and growling like a feral cat as she aimed her front claws at Aaron's left shoulder - or whatever part that was closest to her at the moment of attack. She wasn't picky, and targets were known to move suddenly and without warning.
[Word count; 567 Companion use: 1/1. Magic: 0/1
Lace tried to sneak up on Aaron from behind and bite at his flank. Slipped off to the right and tried to put distance between them, turning and aligning himself side by side, with the head in opposite direction from Aaron's. Fajira came sneaking through the grasses from Aaron's left side, and when Lace spoke to Aaron to distract him, she leaped out and aimed her front claws at his shoulder. ]
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Just a Little Bit Of Practice [Lace Spar]
