| Dragon's Throat Soldier |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.4 :: 4 |
| FennecFyre |
02-03-2013, 12:33 PM
(This post was last modified: 02-03-2013, 12:33 PM by Aryel.)
Aryel
I'm through accepting limits / 'cause someone says they're so.
(And heeeere we go!)
Aryel felt the sting on her thigh, but it was a small thing, and she was able to clench her jaw and ignore it for the most part. Her kick had been less effective than she had intended, but she hoped her hocks jabbing into his chest had at least hurt. Instead of charging like she anticipated him doing, he instead whirled and began bucking backwards, wings stretched back to block her should she try and dodge to the left or right. Damn! Every time she thought she had him, he surprised her. While a small part of her was glad to have this horse on the Throat's side, the rest of her was more concerned with finishing the fight without a concussion. A wave of indignation burned through her as she imagined loosing her first spar as a Sergeant. Hadn't she promised Kri she would do her best? Sparring with the Commander and loosing was one thing, but sparring with a newcomer and loosing so soon after being promoted would be difficult to bear.
She yelped as mud from the stallion's kicking hooves struck her, splattering over her right eye. Keeping it shut against the irritant, turned her head so that the right side faced her enemy, taking the brunt of the mud. She could still see him out of her peripheral vision, luckily, but she was running out of options. Whenever he bucked backwards, she hopped back as well, but the mud impeded her movement. In a desperate attempt to avoid his striking hooves, she reared up onto her hind legs, wings half-spreading to steady herself.
An idea came to her in a flash.
She spread her wings to their full extent, then stroked downwards as hard as she could manage without hitting them against the ground. Her wings were long and narrow, but being as relatively light as she was, they could lift her off the ground with ease. The powerful downstroke carried her hind hooves several inches off the ground, and most importantly, a good distance backwards. She flapped again, putting more distance between her and Gaucho's hooves, safely out of kicking range. Mud still splattered her neck and chest, but it was a trivial thing. She grinned once as another idea came to her. She bunched her muscles, lowering her front end slightly like a crouching predator. She stroked once more, this time using her front hooves to push herself up and forward as she did so, adding more distance and height to her leap by flapping as hard as she could. Wings were limbs too, and Aryel had been careful to train her wings as well as her legs. Gaucho was tall, but she was able to fly over him with a few inches to spare, landing heavily in front of him. She turned her head to give him a smirk, then flicked her tail at him rudely.
OOC:
(02-02-2013, 04:40 PM)Gaucho Wrote: Given their positions, Gaucho's primal narrative considered the possibility of mounting her, at that moment.
Pervo :p Although I will admit Aryel's been the one who's been all "HAY IMMA SHOVE MY BIG BLUE BOOTY UP IN UR FACE KAY".
Attack: None
Defense: Keeps stepping back as Gaucho kicks at her, then rears up, unfurls her wings, and uses those to increase the distance she can jump back. She then jumps and, using several strong flaps, flies clear over him.
Injuries: Nose pain, rump bruising, and bruising bite on her thigh. Mud in the right eye (if that counts)
"Speaking her mind." Rare moments of thought. Taking action.
Some things I cannot change / but until I try I'll never know.
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Thanks for the good times, and no hard feelings for the bad times.
Vicer and Aryel's new threads never happened.
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Rain, rain go away. | Practise Spar, Aryel
