My words fall from my lips and I look to the faces of my warriors. I notice as my eyes drift downward toward the body of Aryel that her face looks upset, almost as if she were balking at my speech and my ears flatten in discontent. "Aryel," I call to the small girl who I had named Sergeant, "if you are not going to fight with heart, return to the Throat. A warrior who fights against their will is worse off than a corpse slung across my shoulders." My words are stern, and I glance forward toward the rising sun, the bodies of the Grey pooling in and calling forth the sound of war. With a smile, I look toward the bloody sun of the early morning.

I toss my head over my shoulder in one fluid motion, my voice calling forward to my warriors even as my legs pound heavily on the branch which groans with my weight, perhaps splintering off to its ultimate demise. "We fly!" I say, my voice calling forward as I rocket out from the trees, the branches and leaves clawing after my form which soars easily on the wind I command, shooting myself forward and any who follow behind me toward the battlefield with excessive speed. The wind whistles in my ears, my eyes narrow in the effort to keep them from drying out, staring forward toward the bodies below.

The throws of war had begun, the tumult of bodies rustling underneath my body as I fly into the scene, my dark eyes scanning for an easy target to attack from above, seeking out someone to collide with by surprise, hopefully doing them more harm than myself. I was not out to gain severe injury for the Grey, not with the threat of an invasion over my own head. I knew it was unavoidable, for in war, no matter who you were fighting against, they would show you no mercy. Regardless of my views on the Foothills prior to this day, they would treat me like a cold blooded murder and I the same to them. For in battle, there is no kindness to be found in any on the other side of the lines. Only the shields of friends are your back would give you rest, but the swords of your enemies are soon behind.

As my blue eyes surf the battlefield like a dark wave, they land upon the body of a dapple grey, his musculature weak. I narrow my eyes more as my velocity is redirected toward him. My first target would be an easy one, and once he was cleanly knocked from the battlefield, I could move on to more pressing targets and the side of my allies. From the looks of his worried and distorted form, this coward was not going to be doing much fighting at all. I aim my hooves toward the left barrel of this stranger, soaring in easily and downward, my wings half-folded to set into an easy glide and make my feathers harder targets for outstretched teeth. My own teeth were bared, reaching out to try and grasp the crest of my new victim as I attempt to slam into him from above.

I would not go easy on this one. If he wanted to save his damned home, he should prove it.
""

[ WC: 583; Magic: 0/4?.
Buffs Kri is using are DANCE and BULK.
Wind magic is passive.

Kri flies out of the trees, uses her wind magic to close the gap to the battlefield. She sees Argetlam, swoops down and tries to "air-ram" his left side with her hooves. She also attempt to bite out at his crest. ]

Aryel had spaced out as she watched the defendants and aggressors take their positions. Now the two walls lunged forward across the plain in a rolling tide of horseflesh. She suppressed a shudder, hoping this would end quickly and decisively, with no lives lost.

She was startled from her thoughts as Kri rebuked her, and shook her head in an effort to dispel the feeling of dread. "N-no ma'am, I'm fine." Going back to the Throat in disgrace would be bad. Going back to the Throat in disgrace and letting her Commander down would be worse. Kri had trusted her with the rank of Sergeant, and the little blue mare was determined to uphold her trust. As Kri ordered them to flight, she turned to press another thought of Stay into Java's mind, then followed the brown mare into the fray, wings snapping open as the Throat warriors broke cover. With a few powerful flaps, she launched herself into the air over the battle. Already, horses had clashed and were fighting amongst eachother? Where was Midas? Where was Gaucho? She hoped the two of them were still up for the count.

It was a struggled to keep up with Kri, but Aryel was able to maintain following distance. She watched as Kri rocketed down towards a large grey, who retaliated by sending his enormous hind hooves bucking skyward, then positioned himself in front of another grey. Instead of following Kri with her hooves, she dipped and banked sharply to curve around the two stallions, coming in to a rough landing that sent up clods of dirt and grass. She turned to face the male that the first was protecting (strange, that. Didn't the smaller grey bear the scent of the mercenaries?), flapping her wings once before folding them. She dipped her head, shook her mane, and pawed the ground with one hoof. Although no words were exchanged, she hoped Argetlam would realize her intention, that she wished to fight him on equal ground, without the use of her wings. She owed them that much, at least.

Magic: 0/4
Summary: Aryel follows Kri, then curves sharply to land behind Argetlam and Peixos. She paws the ground and watches Argetlam, indicating she wishes to fight him on the ground.

Is Argetlam the only Foothills horse in our cluster? Poor guy :p

Walk walk walk walk.
"Talk talk talk talk."