Voodoo's flesh was firm between his teeth; he was well-muscled, but not particularly observant, at least not in the moment that Mauja's white head snaked in under his neck. Mauja bit down, hard, if only for a moment, releasing him and coming away with a wet mouthful of hair; pulling a grimace he drooled it out and began to sidle away to the right, away from the trafficked path of churned mud and treacherous footing. He preferred fighting on the solid tundra, but he was miles from it, and had to make do with what he found — with the bitter wind and cold snow reminding him of it, and the free-falling form of his owl amusing herself and thinking of lemmings.

Still, he felt as light as she, as if he, too, had wings. Despite his best intentions the mirthful spark shimmered at the bottom of his gaze, the posture of his tail high, playful and confident as he shimmied, graceful and smiling, waiting... It seemed that cogs were turning, but something happened, and Mauja found he'd danced sideways for barely a second before Voodoo exploded again, rushing after him. And again, that peculiar lightness flowed through him, a feeling like flying, being weightless, surely more graceful and agile than his earthbound body; still, he was stuck in it, and found himself almost clumsy despite the fact that he actually wasn't.

Black back legs were striking out, reaching towards a snowy white hip. Fighting was a quarter reaction, a quarter tactical thinking, a quarter programmed responses, and a quarter suppressing instincts — you couldn't run away from the blood. Leaning away from a kick only made it hurt the more.

The closer you were, the better.

And so, Mauja wrenched his hips left, hopefully cutting Voodoo's movement short with at least a few inches, though the impact rocked him back a bit again. Surprise could be just as effective a weapon as a physical attack, though he grunted when the firm hooves slammed into his thigh, avoiding the sensitive joint and bruising the muscle instead. The blow rang through his nerves, echoed up to his head, and if anything, he could thank Voodoo for letting him know he was still alive.

But it wasn't over yet. Frosted hooves shuffled across equally frosted ground, a half-hearted attempt to maybe shove into the smaller stallion's hind end before Mauja planted his back hooves and firmly wrenched himself around to the left, hoping to align them once more, his left side against Voodoo's right. He couldn't let the charcoal-and-red stallion walk away unscathed; even if he did it for the other's release, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he didn't do something more.. how would it look if he limped away from here, the Lord, while the other skipped gaily down the path with only a gash and a bite to show for it? No, it wouldn't do, and for that very reason Mauja peeled his lips back and launched a savage bite towards Voodoo's withers, hoping to pin the jutting part of the body between his snowy jaws, while at the same time raising his left leg to try and knock his hoof, fairly gently for a fight, against Voodoo's front right knee. Give him a limp to match the one Mauja would sure have, once the blood flow through his thigh cooled and slowed.

[ 3/4 :: 564 words. ]