The silence before a storm….

Our world hung quiet for a few blissful moments like the earth splitting calm before a hurricane. I would have done anything to hold onto those moments permanently, cling to them like my hooves clung to the tree beneath me. I knew that once the bellows of battle rang out, everything would be different. This quiet field quickly fertilized in blood, my blood, the blood of brothers, and finally the blood of enemies. Heart thundered beneath chest with agitation, golden eyes peered into the field with such intensity that it was no wondering guess as to why my leader thought mind to be purely on lady conflict. It would be a lie to say I wasn’t anxious for something to happen, but the majority of this soul only wanted peace.

A vain prayer for this to end on happy terms was soon dashed to the ground. Territory soldiers showed up with tongues waggling and spirits tense as a cord. Their leader remained absent appearing to the main event, which was a dishonor that shamed his herd and spoke nothing of courage. What did appear however, spoke brashly and stupidly to the Grey who now outnumbered them. But, I say ‘stupidly’…ears slithered back in realization that I would also have spoken such to those that threated my home. Leader or no leader. That little patch of dirt beneath the old magnolia tree was mine, and no other. I’d be dead before I saw the land of sand fall beneath the heel of another.

Moments turned into rigid seconds, eyes hardened with the stern glint of a warrior. Emotions having been worked though and a moment of silence give for the loss of others, I felt ready and at peace with what was to come. Aryel it seemed, was yet to finish pushing through her ideals, she remained ever the sour puss like appearance. Normally I might have given sympathetic look and even went as far to acknowledge her plight; this time though, when Kri spoke out in retort I also gave the sergeant a stern glance, it had been her choice to fight with us today.

Finally, my Sultanas voice rings out, “We fly!” She ordered. Heartbeat quickens, and my excitement flutters alive. Swiftly as they might, my wings unfurl and compact body is pushed from safety. Branches, leaves and various other things bash against my barrel for but a moment before hardened steel slithers across frame inch by rapid inch. Magical armor now covers me, weighting me and my endurance, plated neck extends and wings stretch to their peak; allowing the straps of silver and gold to create knife like slivers along my primary wing muscles.

The image of my son flashes through mind, his smiling face, all the hope and trust he has placed in me with high expectations of my return. ‘I’ll return to you’, I whisper quietly to myself, hoping that my promise wouldn’t be proven false. The stench of struggling bodies fills my senses and pushes thoughts of home into the deepest corners of my mind. Out of concern for a certain lady, I instinctively start searching for Ktulu. Before I can find her though, attention is drawn to something familiar just ahead and below, a painted Overo with a horn that appeared purely made of crystal.

“Apollo.”

The black and white Arabian that charged for an attack I cared not give name to. At this height he appeared smaller than me, or about the same build. I knew from experience that this was a false notion, like all things, looks could be deceiving. A choice was made, grimly I push the ebony lady from mind and instead move to aid a friend. Armored wings tuck with intent on applying speed until I take on the appearance of a diving bullet. Forelegs thrash madly. THAROS had just started to kick at APOLLO when I arrived to rain fury from above. At the last possible second I pull up just before becoming a ‘horse shaped blob of feathers’. The font half of my body slips forcefully up, straining to pull neck and shoulders so that I didn’t literally fall on him. Feathers respond with painful agitation, pulling from tucked position to be fully stretched again and pumping heavily to keep me adrift, all while still moving forward at a slower rate.

This act opened opportunity for a failing limb attack. Hindquarters bunch up and uncoil rapidly in time with my forelimbs, almost as if I was cantering across the sky. My hopeful intent was not only would this come as a surprise to the ebony Arabian. But also that my sharp forehooves and or backhooves would collide with THAROS neck. Preferably hitting THAROS'S skull in passing just as his unsuspecting head rose from a buck aimed for APOLLO. At the same time, as a way of saying “f you,” Pegasus style. Wings kept thrusting and intentionally fall forward at a dip. Trying to catch a part of THAROS’S sides, by use of my armored blades lashed across primary feathers. Getting hit by my steel would increase the chance of a slicing and first blood, getting hit with weighted feathers would possibly only leave a bruise to remember. All this happened in a matter of moments before I was pushed out of range by forward momentum.

Word count:: 894

Buffs:: Endure

Magic:: (0/2)

Summary:: Tries to surprise attack THAROS by dive bombing him whilst he is distracted with attacking APOLLO. Midas pulls up and does a fly over when near THAROS, legs are kicking with hopes that a hoof or two might hit THAROS across his head/neck. At the same time, Midas attempts to use his wing beats and strike THAROS across the sides/shoulders/head/ or neck in passing.