A giant lizard. Of course. There was a giant lizard. A giant….motherfucking lizard.

I had been running for days at this point. Sometimes stopping briefly for a rest, and a drink and maybe some food, but then I would be back to running again as soon as I was able. Days and days of nothing but straight booking it, out of the Foothills, and into the extremely green and not-so-Frostfall-green forests that I knew bordered my home. Actually, I wasn’t really aware that it was green or not-so-green, because of the darkness and all. It was true that there were these awkward lamp trees scattered about, but I disregarded them, because they paved away to a direction and my running was directionless. Maybe it was unwise for me to run blindly into the dark, with no plot or forethought of a destination in my head. I mean, true, the memory of my tender horn stuck in a tree was still vivid in my head, and I would always remember that lesson from my youth (Don’t challenge trees.) Thing was, the more I ran the clearer my head got, the more lucid my thoughts became, more ordered and structurely and that type of thing. I wasn’t weighted with my own panic. I could contemplate.

So I ran.

I moved myself and felt my body as I moved, coming to know it, pushing its boundaries, coming to know when it ended and began. Becoming comfortable in my skin again. I thought about the dark, and my role in defeating it. And that I didn’t know what that “role” was, and ways that I could figure it out, and how those ways wouldn’t work. Sometimes I thought about Mesec, and I still called him “Bro” in my head, and I guess that would never change. But there was still hurt whenever I thought about the Foothills, because I couldn’t go back, at least right now. I was sheltered there, and coddled and stupid and complacent, and while I’m still stupid, there’s no way in hell I can stay sheltered. I needed to get my act together. I needed to give my homeland a daughter they could be proud of.

But how?

I was running so hard and so fast, I didn’t notice the stars pop into the sky, or see the moon from its position behind me. I didn’t see how the trees dwindled away, because my vision was blurred with fatigue. The deep forest was behind me now, and for the first time, I had left the green of my birth. What I did notice, though, was how warm the air became, despite it being Frostfall, and the warm light coming from further southwest of me. So I continued to go, curious about the light and the warmth, wondering if it was a sign for me, a sign from my daddy and whatever other gods there were, and holy crap there was a giant lizard.
I stopped, I panted hard. I felt my limbs tingle with numb, achy exhaustion. But there was a giant lizard in the distance, made of fire, slowly ambling its way across the landscape. Miles away from me still, but it was there and I could see it and jeez almighty it was a giant lizard.

I stood there for a moment, letting the idea wash over me, because there was no way I was just going to ignore this. It wasn’t a choice. Was this a “role” I was supposed to play? Was I here to kick ass? Cool.

With a snort and a last effort, I plowed on, running straight for the creature. It probably wasn’t smart for me to run into battle as tired as I was, but even if I was older, I was still young, and it was a lesson I hadn’t learned yet. So I ran into battle, sweating from the heat, panting from the other things, noticing two other dark colored horses I had never seen before in my life. I didn’t pay attention to them though, noticing only that one had wings and another had a dragon, because as I got closer, the lizard turned into a monster, a fiery thing with a lot more scales than I was used to, a lot more grumbling and growling a threat. Its tail was nearest me, a snakelike entity that thrashed about of its own accord, making the air thrum as it cut through it. It wasn’t a fast thing, but still, it was huge, and I didn’t know what I was doing, but maybe fighting this thing was doing something.

The black horse with wings was striking its head, and I was remembering something from my childhood. How I would go play with Jiji, and I would pick up tiny newts with my teeth, and they would fall away from their squirming tails, leaving them in my mouth. Jiji had told me to stop that because it hurt them, so I did. But would the same thing hold true for this monster? It wasn’t a newt, but…would it bring him pain?

The idea was planted, and my impulse was certain of itself. Some inner instinct bid me to strike, and I did. As the tip weaved and slithered, the movement coming to rest it upon the ground for mere moments, I urged my tired limps to charge it, and I made to trample the long thing, to dig the sharpest part of my hooves into the flamey skin of the lizard's tailtip. If I hit it, the tail might twitch and fling upward, slamming me into the air—or the monster might look at me and get pissed, and decide to turn towards me and burn me to a crisp. Maybe it would flail its hind leg behind me and gauge at me with its feet claws, trying to kick me. I don’t know, there were many ways this thing could retaliate, because my plan wasn’t a smart plan—it was a thing of impulse. But hey, I was winging it.

[TL;DR: Strikes at the tip of the monster's tail.]