Inside I was laughing at the stallion. He didn't seem to know what the word 'Assassin' even meant. It meant that I was a killer and could, and would, kill without hesitation. Whether it would be bloody and brutal or quick and almost painless I didn't care. All I cared for is that they were killed without one chance of escaping, not that they ever did have chance anyway. Maybe I was trying to kill this foolish stallion in front of me, I know I wouldn't mind killing him, but I would like to waste my energy on someone worth it. This stallion was just not worth it at all.
But I would fight anyway, and although I didn't plan to kill him, I would still beat the shit out of him and teach him a well needed lesson. He had no chance what so ever. There was an obvious age different and his mind was not as fresh as mine, his bones were more worn then mine and my senses were sharper, plus I was full of energy, and each advantage tally up, the odds in were my favor and the old stallion would soon be seen stumbling back to the edge, aided in walking by his brother who would be laced with concern for his cut and bruised brother.
I had fought many and I knew that most horses had at least sparred once in their life time and I was guessing this stallion was no different. As I had expected he had shifted his position so that my horn was aiming for his left shoulder. Hopefully a hit would land and then, if at one point he had the chance to rear, it would make it extremely painful for him to thrash his legs about to kick me and, with the thought just passing though my head, I felt my horn scrapping the skin of the stallion and eventually pierce the skin and drawing a red line on him. Although it was not deep, it was enough to satisfy me. For now.
My dignity rested on this fight. It was the first challenge I had fought in this land and I was going to make it rememberable, for him and for others. To let others know that I would not back down from a fight and that I would come out grinning slyly and victorious, whether my victim was dying or not, and if not, they would know never to underestimate me again. It was a chance to show the edge who, and what, they were up against, a chance for them to rally there troops and hope to survive. God they needed hope, and they needed a lot of it. And with my ambitious thoughts dancing round in my head I fight on, knowing that I needed to win this.
Out the corner of my eye I traced every move the stallion made as I galloped a stride forward. When I saw him almost stumbling forward an almost cocky smile slaps onto my face. It felt good to see the stallion stumbling in pain. It was only a small wound though, I knew he could easily strike back and he had. His back legs kicked out and slammed just behind my shoulder. They weren't fully extended though and didn't hurt as much as it could of but I knew I would be left with some bad bruising, not that it mattered to me much, the pain wouldn't restrict my abilities in anyway.
Now all I had to do was plan my next attack but, with being a Assassin, it had already been planned from the time his hoofs came into contact with my shoulder. Coming to a halt right behind him, straight after the contact with his hooves, I keep my front hooves on the ground whist my rump whips round, my head turning at the angle of the stallion's side. Then I threw my weight back on my back legs and lift the front half of my body in the air, attacking the air with my front legs, wanting to meet him in the air, face to face, or slam my hooves down on his body. My shoulder was thumping mildly as I thrashed my legs in the air but I that his cut would be hurting more then just my bruise.

"Talk talk talk".


[WC:727 | Summary: Get's kicked by his back leg's just behind her shoulder. Turns round to his side and rears, aiming to slam her hooves down on his back.]