My buck had proved to be in vain, for my shoulder met nothing but empty space and I found myself having to right my balance again as I carried through with my bite. Though my teeth had intended to close down on the tender skin of her flank, they instead met the palomino's thick rump due to her defensive pivoting, and I figured it would only cause a dull pain at most. Not the most effective of attacks to wear down my opponent, but at least I had landed a blow.
As I wheeled my body to the right, I was unsuspecting of Sage's sudden kick. Luckily, the areas of my body most prone to injury had been turned away and only my rear was exposed now. Her creme hooves collided somewhere between the dock and gaskin of my right side, causing a sharp jolt of pain to flash from the point of impact down through the length of my leg. A grunt left my lips and my ears slicked back against my head, my rear tucking from the impact. Luckily the pain didn't last long in the entirety of my leg, instead settling to a non-stop throbbing that served as a constant reminder that I was locked in the heat of battle.
The palomino's kick spurred me into the execution of my own quick kick, though I wasn't entirely sure where it would land due to her repositioning if at all. Satisfaction bubbled through my being when I felt my hooves meet her side, the sound of her pained grunt nearly carving a grin into my face. I wasn't happy or proud that I had caused such a noise from her, but this was how it had to be.
Despite the stars that hung above us, shedding a sliver of hope upon those that called this land home, it was still inexplicably difficult to see every contour of my opponent's body as we danced this potentially deadly dance all in the name of being called 'Wingleader.' From behind me I could hear her pick the pace up, closing in on me as I moved away. What her next plan of action was, I didn't know, but I had to keep in mind that she would be much quicker than I in anything that she did.
I could feel her at my left side, much too close for my liking. In that instant, a memory flashed before my mind's eye; an iron-clad soldier who had managed to get past the rest, charging at us from behind, a battlecry leaving his lips as he poised his sword for my precious Bran's back. I had veered to the side to get my boy out of the situation until we could get ourselves in better placement. But without the threat of a sword and the loss of a life at stake, what I needed to do right now was quite the opposite.
In the moment that both front feet hit the ground next, I used the momentum I'd build up from my canter to my advantage as well as my heavier body as I sent myself to the left in yet another attempt to crash into the mare. However, due to her position and the cover of darkness, I had been ignorant to the attacks she had set in motion. As my my front legs left the ground and were propelled to the side, a smarting pain riddled my left leg as her hoof hit its mark. The wound had been afflicted on the widest, roundest part of my fetlock and I knew from the moment that it hit that my movement would be hindered for the rest of the fight. It had broken the skin, causing a trickle of blood to run into the feathers adorning my hoof, and it would surely be tender when all of my weight was suddenly forced back onto it.
To top that, as I sent myself to the left, her teeth did not meet my face but instead, they were more than likely given a mouthful of my curled neck. They were successful in removing a line of hair, causing a dull pain that would go away with little time, but I hoped that the imposing force would at least give her a toothache.
[WC - 722. 2/4 attacks, 0/2 companion/magic uses]
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Grit. [Challenge, Destrier]
HP: 66.5
