There are certain words, which spoken at the correct time, in the correct place, can impact ones very soul. An out of place I love you can have devastating effects, just as a well-meant I missed you..., can revolutionize a heart. For Gaucho, although we all know what a difficult time he has with words, was paradigmatically switched on, at Kri’s command: We fly!. Gaucho did not wonder if the timing was right - if Kri had seen something that caused her to lead them out of hiding, or if today would be the day he died. He did not think of anyone he loved or who loved him, as Quiylan did, for Gaucho had neither. He only thought of two things: Family and Honor. Gaucho was not weighed down by the mixed-feelings that some - on both sides of the invasion - were currently experiencing. Was it wrong to attack such a weak herd? Was it their fault? Where was their leader..? No, for Gaucho it was much more simple - oh so simple. Kri was his family, and she had given him an order. It was that black and white for the brute. Let the philosophers, the skeptics and the cynics worry about what was right and wrong. Gaucho’s mind was deliciously unburdened by these ethical dilemma’s, for in his mind, only one thing mattered. Obeying Kri; Kri had said to fight.

Oh and he meant to.

In the pristine stillness just before the clusterfuck began, Gaucho took a deep breath, inhaling the crisp cool air. The skies were cloudless, yet breezy. Although Tallsun made dawn a relatively comfortable temperature, Gaucho could already tell there would be no bouyant thermals to aid him should this battle be taken to the skies. Still, the breezes were something to consider; with wings large enough to carry his bulk into the air, they were practically sails, able to utilize the breezes to his advantage, if aimed properly. As Kri’s rough voice broke the stillness, and her compact form leapt from the tree branch, Gaucho too began forward. Being unable to launch himself as quickly into the air as Kri had, Gaucho’s dark body shot from the trees as he accelerated into a gallop as quickly as possible. Dew grazed his hooves as his speed increased; unfurling his massive black wings, he let them settle on the rushing air until he could acheive lift. Launching himself into the air, heading east directly into the sun, the bay squinted his steely gaze. Luckily the yellowish marking around his eyes served to cut some of the glare, so he was not completely blinded by the rising ball of fire. Sweeping his wings tighter to his side to achieve a more vertical lift, he could see a blob of orange and white coming at him from the west. Gaucho was much lower than the orangey-blob, but not for much longer, as the orangey-blob (which turned out to be a paint) folded his wings to his sides, diving down at the bay.

In a spar, Gaucho might have considered the stupidity of the stallion, for diving so obviously, and from such a distance. On the battle field however, Gaucho only considered how his careless mistakes could benefit him, and how he ought to respond. Sweeping his wing to the right, and banking inwards, arching so the rising sun was at his back, Gaucho then surged up and forwards. While Gaucho was correct that Quilyan was smaller, he was off by how much smaller - having a blob of orangey-white shooting at you, can be misleading. As he flew farther to the west, up and towards QUILYAN, still about 20 feet below him, he flew into a cross breeze. Grunting as the invisible current poured against him, his wings beat even harder to try and maintain momentum, and yet he slowed significantly, almost halting in midair. Raising his steely gaze he watched as the distance between the two warriors quickly disappeared. Gaucho pinned his ears back at QUILYANS screams both so they could not be bitten, but also so he wouldn’t have endure his wailing. With a grunt of frustration at his deceleration, he hoped the sun was at least blinding his opponent, as he made his move. As QUILYAN plummeted by, Gaucho could feel the stallions front hooves scraping against his right shoulder, causing enormous pain to flair through the muscle, and yet Gaucho did not try to fully evade the stallions attack: given his deceleration, he would need to be close to the stallion, if he was going to cause any damage. As QUILYAN brushed past him, Gaucho beat his wings, trying to drive himself into the stallion as he past. With his head lowered and tilted to the right, he aimed to scrape his antlers against QUILYANS right wither or right wing as he had learned to do in previous spars, and to let their bodies remain together so that QUILYANS right flank would be gauged by the spiked-bone collar that was around Gaucho’s neck.

As they sailed past each other, Gaucho instinctively turned his muzzle to the left, guarding his face against a possible kick.


[WC: Exactly 900. Magic 0/2 Companion 0/2. Earth Amulet/Spark Amulet not used. Gaucho will be using buffs bulk and swift.

Summary: Gallops out of the trees, and begins flying east. Ascending, Gaucho sees Quil coming from the west. Arching around to face him (still significantly lower), he flies up to meet him, but is caught in a cross-breeze and is significantly slowed as Quil descends upon him. Quil strikes his right shoulder. As he passes, Gaucho tries to knock him with his antlers on his wither or right wing, and to keep their bodies together so Quil is scraped by Gaucho's 2-inch bone spikes on his flank.

Attack: Antlers to wither/right wing. Bone-collar to right flank]