He was calm. A serene smile is placed on Sage's lips as he arrives, sauntering in with heavy steps of a male. Already pleased with his reaction to such an abrupt challenge, the golden girl is happy to meet her counterpart. They are herd mates, after all, and the former Wingleader meant the current no ill. Having seen Destrier face to face, she is certain he will be a challenge - exciting. As such, her pale eyes utilize the time he travels to note the details of her opponent. Large, muscular even for a male. Taller than the tower of burnished gold and ivory, yet she still had hard worked muscle underneath her satin exterior. She is lithe, nimble in comparison to he. He would still best her in brute force, but perhaps she could outmaneuver him. However, the twins had failed to forewarn her about the glimmer of emerald in the skies. Knowing the power of dragon's breath, Sage hopes that this odd disappearance of the Gods has robbed him of his flame.

Silently, Sage twist her head to the side, glimpsing at him fully for a moment as he speaks. "So be it."
The calm before the storm.

The only warning of his motives comes in the momentary tension of his muscles before the black stallion named Destrier snaps into action. The winged girl throws her weight to her back end and launches her front end off of the ground, pivoting her body toward the right after seeing the slight veer in his motion toward her left. Her front hooves land in the soft loam beneath the starry mist, the glow of moonlit flowers gleaming below her and pushing shadows upward. Left shoulder relocated, Destrier's attempt to slam the thin cream frame fails due to the repositioning, and Sage works her front legs, still pivoting toward the right. The bite lands square on the left side of her ass, brushing the skin with saliva and a flush of dull pain but finding too large a mouthful to break the skin. Surely, a nice sized bruise would be there by tomorrow.

Her ears flick back into the lush plume of her mane in annoyance, disappearing instantly. In response, Sage plants her front end into place and kicks outward, back hooves seeking the flesh of Destrier's right shoulder or chest - whatever was within the range of her hooves. Hooves touching down, Sage makes a jerk forward, followed by turning right to face in the same direction Destrier had been moving. Back end moves, yet not fast enough to escape the fast draw of hooves. Instead of her left flank, however, the large stone colored hooves hammer into her right side as she turns, near to the hip joint. The feminine looking beauty lets out a surprisingly masculine grunt as the pain and force pushes the breath from her chest with the sudden force on her innards. A scrape cuts open in her flesh later surrounded by a crescent bruise, unsurprisingly, christening her figure in the first blood of the battle.

Sage grins. Nice shot, soldier.
If there had been time, she may have even cheered on her fellow Qian.

The inky black form is picked out amid the sea of silver, the small light of flowers illuminating the bottom of his body, but more importantly outlining him. Quickening her pace, the swift lady attempts to sidle herself along the left of Destrier. She stretches her front right leg reaching out like a menacing claw for the back of his left front knee when she figures she is in position. Simultaneously, her grin opens into a menacing set of teeth, flashing toward the left side of his face to distract his eyes from catching on to her tricks.

In the moonlight, her pastel teal eyes gleam savagely.
Let the games begin.

[ WC: 641; 1/4. ]