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The cold wind was laden with the thick stench of simmering hormones and steamy intoxicating sweat. It seemed to feed the perceivable fury bubbling between clashing, tangled egos, driving their resolve everlastingly through the otherwise tranquil Basin night.
Plumes of hot breath, soured by hostile exertion clouded the unlikely battle-field, and the tell-tale clatter of scrabbling hooves against ice-slick rubble, resonated wildly- trapped by the flanking mountain range.
Africa was no longer trapped in one of her own fantasies. This was gruesome and real, marring the sensitive young creature’s mind perhaps indefinitely. The sickening thud of flesh against flesh; of ivory clacking as brandished swords through the slow tick of night; it pierced her gentle soul, tarnishing her purity and her very essence.
Her eyes were wide with fear, focused only by her desperation to protect herself, and her kin. Listening ears strained clumsily, to pick apart the muddled chaos of warfare, and her stomach churned- sickened by the bloodlust boiling through the atmosphere.
Africa’s shoulder collided, with the intended (though quite unpredicted) force and the bay Unicorn dipped forward beneath, and clear of Sinuhe’s simultaneous attack. From the corner of her fear-filled right eye, she watched the tip of the ghost-white mare’s pointed ‘stick’ descend towards her own neck, and in that second the peace-loving dapple grey clenched her creamy eyes shut, the expectant hesitation choking the breath from her heaving lungs.
Suddenly- trapped within that same frightening moment, Africa’s eyelids sprung open. The bay mare’s right hoof struck. Unexpected pain jarred through the nerves lining her left knee, and the irrepressible reflex resulting, jerked the leg up to tuck snugly against her impulsively uplifted forearm.
All balance was lost in that instant and while she was astonished that the predicted knifing of her partner’s horn had not occurred, the grey winced with consternation as her driving bulk ploughed shoulder-first into the slippery combination of frosted grass, and loose shale. As the pain in her knee softened immediately to a bearable tingle, a replacement burning prickled through her left shoulder. The gravel-rash across its sinewy bulge began to seep blood instantly to stain loam and hide- a stark contrast to swathe of the soft grey dapples.
Perhaps only milliseconds had swished by, she could not tell in the heat of the moment. Distressed, laying across the ground atop her folded left wing and partially paralysed by throbs of the shocking, never before experienced pain, her neck swayed, and curled up to the right to lift her snowy-bald face in an effort to gasp despairingly at the horrible cold wind. “Arrrrrrgh...” She wailed miserably at the moon who was glowing serenely above, declaring her melancholy to any and all within hearing distance. Then, as the last of her cry was lost amid the vociferous fight, her hopeless gaze spotted the shadowy shape of a night-kissed body. The forgotten black brute was advancing at speed towards the proximity of Africa’s right hip. It took far less than a second for the young horse to realign her attention, and also for adrenaline to clear the chaos in her mind.
The stallion’s horn was enormous, extending easily the length of her own stiffened hind leg, she thought, as its blue tip glowed viciously against the gloom- coming at veracious speed. Time seemed to slow and Africa presumed wistfully that the seconds to follow would surely be her last. Undoubtedly, given that his direction towards her should have allowed him ‘binocular vision’, she imagined the stallion would have been angling to drive his long ridged horn down into her body- somewhere (she could not tell due to the steady rock of his progressive stride). If her theory had been correct, the dappled Pegasus could do only one thing to even remotely aid her defence- maybe secure her survival.
Africa heaved away from his attack, rolling back against her withers, continuing further still until her right side sank against the icy terrain. To the educated eye of battle-scarred warriors it might have seemed the worst possible decision, exposing her belly and any number of the most vital organs she possessed. It was a knee-jerk reaction though, and she had zero combat experience- aside from cowering against a rock wall while Midas pummelled that black and white nightmare into surrender. She couldn’t remember that now though!
The tapering sword sank shallowly into the fleshy curve of her rump (which was compacted against the terrain), to the right of her spine- and came out the other side. Africa screamed in agony, jerking away from the concentrated sting breaking the skin as she did, and ripping away from his reach. Startled by his sudden attack and in wild, unbridled terror Africa heaved herself up from the ground and staggered left, away from the group at a limp-hindered lope.
Post: 2/4
Word Count: 800 (sooooo not enough :p)
Summary: Africa’s left knee is struck during Alan’s kick and she topples while still recovering from leaning into her own attack. While on the ground Demois comes from her right, she rolls to the left away from him, and his horn spears right through the top of her rump right of the spine- it is shallow enough that the skin rips around it when she jerks away from him post-attack, freeing her to stand.
"Thinking. Speaking. Acting."
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![[Image: 515b833f251f3]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/515b833f251f3)
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Come not within the measure of my wrath. [Sinuhe & Africa Challenge]
