Roland felt a hint of satisfaction swelling in his chest as teeth met skin, ripping off a piece of Archi’s flesh. The copper tang of blood against his tongue was unpleasant, but he’d managed to land an attack on the larger stallion, which had to count for something. It hadn’t been his intent to draw blood, but there was no time for apologies. All too sudden Archi was rising up towards him, broad, muscular shoulder crashing into Roland’s left side. His positive thoughts were cut short as the force of the blow knocked him off balance and he stumbled to the right, clumsily tangling his own feet in the long grass. Fighting down embarrassment, he righted himself and pivoted on his forelegs, aiming a quick strike at the draft’s barrel. His back hooves met Archi’s shoulder as the draft reared up again, and the smaller stallion dropped onto all fours and leapt away before his opponent could retaliate.

The sun shone brightly in Roland’s eyes as he turned back to face Archibald, ignoring the pain that swelled in his left shoulder. His opponent was clearly more practiced than him, but he wouldn’t let that dampen his spirits too much. As long as he walked out of the spar in one piece it could be termed an effective use of a bright summer’s day. He had not fought often, still considering himself a novice on the battlefield, so this was a good chance for him to hone his skills. In the past he had been a soldier in the midst of a brutal war, but most of the attacks he had executed had been from the shadows, dancing in and out unnoticed. Standing upon the flat plain of a meadow gave him no opportunities to hide, forcing him to step out of his comfort zone; the feeling of unease greatened when faced with such an intimidating opponent.

Tipping his chin to shield his eyes from the sun’s bright rays, Roland looked back at Archibald as the draft launched himself forwards, following closely. Roland came to a halt on the hard ground just as Archi reached towards him, teeth bared. Heart leaping in his chest, Roland threw his weight into his haunches and prepared to launch himself out of harm’s way, hind end lowering as his forelegs lifted from the ground. The heavy draft’s teeth still managed to pinch the skin of his croup in passing, and sharp pain blossomed from the wound as Roland jumped forwards, coming to land a short distance away. He turned slowly, sides swelling with panting breaths. Sweat gleamed on his golden hide as he inhaled deeply, making the most of the thin air.

Despite his bulk Archibald still seemed quick on his feet, and Roland was only able to use his teeth and hooves as weapons since his weight was nothing compared to the draft’s stalwart build. He wouldn’t use his horn in a spar, for the sharp blade could do far more damage than he might intend, but that meant giving up one of his few advantages. Digging his hooves into the rich soil, Roland ran towards Archi, approaching him head on. He slowed his gait as he neared and rose into a rear, lunging for his adversary’s throat latch. His neck reached out, trying to meet Archi’s height as he attempted to close his teeth around the sensitive skin, though he practiced some restraint. It wasn’t his intent to cause irreparable damage, and the bite was not strong enough to tear the flesh.

He let himself drop, striking out at Archi’s left knee with his right hoof as he went, using the driving force of his falling weight to put more strength into the blow. Hopefully a wound on such a sensitive joint would help hinder the massive draft’s movement, slowing his speed if he tried to follow. Landing heavily upon the ground, Roland darted to his right, only stopping when he was well out of harm’s way. With a glint of newfound confidence in his eyes, he turned back to face his opponent.

(Summary: Roland approaches Archibald from the front, rearing and aiming a bite at his throat latch. He strikes out at Archi’s left knee as he drops back onto the ground, and runs away to stand out of reach to Archi’s left. 2/2. Sorry it’s so long!)

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