Mauja didn't really get it. He was used to the fast pace of battle, the twist-and-turn of the intricate dance, the brutal power of someone charging heedlessly against you – all for the pack and nothing for yourself, the death of one soul nothing but an honorable sacrifice for the victory.. he understood heedlessness of one's own well-being, if it meant an opening. If it meant you'd get somewhere.

So what he didn't get, was why Voodoo, twice now, had simply seemed to stop. What happened in that young mind of his? Why did he simply.. space out? Did he not care about his body, or was he just not used to the fast pace of a battle, even a friendly one? He reacted too late, and Mauja's teeth found their mark; the withers slammed into his jaws, the contact rattling up through his skull and his hooves dancing awkwardly across the half-frozen mud as he tried to stick to the gray's side. And then, when he lifted his hoof to strike, he found his target, and it was with a brief burst of satisfaction, even if that state of bemused detachment remained. He was not useless, not even in this state of silly mirth. He could still hit someone. And, most of all, he was fairly sure he knew his own strength and hadn't left any permanent damage.

But Voodoo didn't remain spaced out. A hot flash of pride tore through Mauja when the stallion ripped out of his grasp, spinning on powerful haunches to retaliate one last time. And while it was not the horn's tip that led the charge towards Mauja's snowy throat, it was still uncomfortably close, jutting out of Voodoo's forehead like a menace: he forced his aching thigh to take the load of his weight, twisting his entire neck to the left to avoid accidental damage and half-raising in the process. He'd weighed the options against one another, chosen teeth over horn, and now he paid for it. They clamped down on his chest, somewhat off the aim now that the taller Mauja had risen, too.

Pain was a rather exquisite thing, a flash of heat, a flash of cold, a spike through the system. It rattled his mind, but couldn't quite shadow the lightness in his heart, and if it wasn't for the awkward position he would've laughed, relished in the sharp, swift stab of it. Instead, he kept leaning left, and brought up his knees in an attempt to first knock them against Voodoo's throat, then raised the right hoof again to try and punch him in the front of the shoulder.

And then, it was over, Mauja's frosted hooves crashing back to the ground, his breath an exhilarated quiver, and his eyes still like snow in sunlight.

[ 4/4 :: 465 words. ]
[ Thanks for the fight, Nevlove! If you don't mind, we could just RP this out to the end after you closing defense, and let them post the verdict when they will? I doubt the outcome of the fight is going to affect their interaction much. :) ]