R I C O C H E T - - raise your GUN and it's over

Success! Although his foe had sprung forward to redirect his bite to her rear, the stallion had still managed to cause harm to her. His lips closed around the bone of her croup and with a ferocious jerk of his head, Ricochet’s mouth departed from his adversary with a mouthful of her ebony hair. The rear that he had performed had not been as lucky, although his hooves did drag their blunt edges down the paint’s hind leg. The buckskin had not thought to protect his foot when he had performed the move, however, and upon impact with the ground – and with his foe’s bodacious ass – waves of pain stemmed from his coronet, causing him to stumble as he landed.

The Incendiary’s invisible audience had fallen into a hushed silence at the sound of one of the actor’s cries. The painted mare had struck out towards the collie as his nimble body turned to flee, but he had not been fast enough. Like a snake – coiled and patient – Kahlua’s merciless weapon had waited for the best moment to strike, embedding itself into the flesh at the dog’s collar. A mangled bark slipped past the canine’s dark lips and he stumbled away from the clashing equines, gasping for air. The warlord’s ears snapped back at the sound of the strangled cry, but the Incendiary gave no pause to tend to the wheezing dog. He had his own wounds to lick, but he would save all that for later. His attention was focused on an angry woman, after all.

Not liking the position that the mare had forced him into – or the rear she was preparing herself for – Ricochet spun on his hind legs, pushing his chest and right shoulder closer to his foe as he twisted his front end to his right. The pale stallion quickly backed away from his assailant, his hind legs slipping on the uneven ground, rendering him unable to block the oncoming attacks completely. Her hooves slammed down on the right side of his chest, tearing at the mass of muscle and flesh, and her gleaming teeth ripped at the skin on the right side of his neck. The pain wasn’t nearly as bad there as the scrapes on his leg, but his chest stung just as much as any other surface wound. He knew that every movement he made from that moment on would cause his pectoral muscles to burn, but it wasn’t as if he could just stop moving; the duo-toned mare was flying towards him, and he lacked the space to move out of her way. Even though his mind was struggling to keep up with the situation – and her words – his body knew just what to do.

And just like that, he met her in the middle.

Fueled by his masculine desire to conquer, the buckskin propelled himself forwards, tears stinging his eyes as pain laced through his breast. Although the pair of the equines were similar in height and build, Kahlua had been making much lower rears than normal, and Ricochet tried to use this knowledge to his advantage. His hooves went flying as he tried to raise his upper body so that it towered over hers, aiming for the femme’s breast and throat before her body slammed into his. Trying his best to force the whole of his weight on top of her, his naves laboring with the effort to breathe at this point in the battle, the brute made a few exhausted attempts to tear the flesh on the left side of Kahlua’s neck with his teeth.

The stallion’s blurred blue gaze roamed the darkness that surrounded them, unsure of what they were looking for. It took a few moments for the warrior to regain his mind, but they were all that he needed to realize that he was not alone in this fight.

“GUNS!”

He knew that the anger in his voice would have been enough to make the wounded dog flinch, but he also knew that his loyal servant knew better than to ignore his commands. He watched the dog limp behind the mare, the white of his collar showing purple from the distant glow of a lamptree, and waited with giddy anticipation for the dog to make his move. Becoming more determined in his attempt to send his foe crashing down the hill, the Incendiary attempted to batter her shoulders with his hooves and arched his back to try and lean more weight against her. The tyrant knew that he was putting himself in a dangerous situation, too, but he was placing his bets on the state of her right gaskin. If the Gundog’s attempt to tear at the extensor muscles there was successful, then perhaps he had a chance to take the lady down after all.

{800 words| Attack 3/3 | Companion 2/2 | Magic -/- | Defense 0/0| Battle Buffs: Swift and bulk
Summary: Guns is kicked in the throat and then stumbles away from the battle, gasping for breath. Ricochet follows through with the attacks that managed to hit Kahlua from his last post, and upon landing from his rear his leg experiences some trauma. Turning on his hind end and swinging his front end to the right, – and into Kahlua’s rear/hooves – Ricochet backs up a bit, slips, then gets battered on the right side of his chest by her hooves and her bite tears the flesh from the right side of his neck. Now face-to-face, Ricochet meets her leap in the air, his hooves churning to try and get a few quick hits in before their chests slam into each other, where the two are locked together as he tries to lean his weight against her. He then tries to tear at the flesh on the left side of her neck with his teeth. Realizing that Guns was still around, he calls to his companion, who moves behind Kahlua to bite at her right gaskin again. During the time it takes for Guns to perform the move, Ricochet tries to push against Kahlua more and attempt to scrape her shoulders with his hooves.}

"Whistle"