the Rift


Ghost in the night (Ghost spar)
Ascended Helovian

Midas the Gallant Posts: 1,164
Deceased
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 14.3 hh :: Immortal :: Soul is 7 (FF) Buff: HUNTER
Fina :: Common Zephyr :: Phoenix & Wakiya & Neve :: Common Zephyr :: Arctic Angel
#1

Fighting was a part of our desert life, it was our breath and sweat that went into making this clan stronger, faster. Kri oversaw our deeds and calculated the effort; the last time I had went up against my Sultana—she had defeated me in speed and agility soundly enough. There were moments in our fray that surprised her, I had been able to think far enough in advance to outfox the head vixen. Breathless in the end, we had greeted the other as brother and sister; still friends, still war mates in this wide world. Twice I had fought for her causes, and twice she had received me. Since my beloved mentor’s death, it had been hard to even imagine filling the rather impressive shoes he wore for this family—but it was always striven for.

Maybe one day, I would be worthy of filling his title. Maybe I would be enough to protect my home, just as Kri has done all these years. Until then, my time would be spent sparing with the greenhorns and new bloods; keeping them in line well enough for everyone. Studying under impressive fighters, like Guacho and the newly appointed General, Hector. The dark unmeasured hours passed and I grew restless, it wasn’t long before the pillar of fire drew me in—a fellow mate would likely be around. Eagerly hopeful I cast my gaze across the endless dunes, longing to stretch pent up tendons of flesh. Longing for a little excitement tonight on this cloudless eve.

Words:: 250

Setting:: Between the Oasis and Fire pit in Dragon's Throat. Clear starry night.

Attack:: (0/3)

Magic:: (0/2) can use magic <3?

Our colours come alive when I collide with you
with you, with you
[Image: 5388c9b80fe59]

Avalon Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#2
Perhaps the best way to put things so far had been very... different. The times of war had begun and the horns were beginning to sound. A large, long, husky bugle was indeed being blown and that meant one thing; we were on the brink of war.

Things had indeed been heating and flaring up like the very fire that I was in charge of maintaining and feeding. Much like the very fire that I had grown... attached to? Sure, why not? And ever since it had flared up into the great big pillar it was I felt a sense of pride, I guess one could say. It was also a symbol and one that I felt that I had been gifted to defend just like my home. So with that, I needed practice.

Just as if my thoughts had conjured the very answer in front of my eyes, my ears flickered and I turned my antler adorned head to angle that shed some light on a feathered friend and family member; he smelled of the Throat and he also smelled of anxiety. He smelled of one that longed of battle and I was willing to give in to train.

My pacing self had left a trail of prints in the sand and my brutishly tall, yet sturdy and stocky self approached my friend into a slow walk. "Excitement stirs your soul, yes? It's mutual. I am Avalon."

With that, I examined my surroundings to see if I may indeed use it to my ability. My eyes were quick and shifty, I was aiming to not be too noticeable. I had the sand at my very hooves to aid me in ways of which my quickly churning brain could only think of. The pillar of fire might could help in a way or another. Other than that, I was out of options. The starry sky might help me to pick out his figure from the rest of the black space if he did decide to take flight. The light from the pillar might assist.

I turned around, then skittered to a halt, only to quickly dart around and charge at my feathered friend. My large body was a result from a unique breeding of a Percheron and Quarter horse. I inherited the muscle and size from my Percheron ancestry and my quick bursts, speed, and agility from my Quarter Horse side.

I used both of these to my advantage as my muscles flexed and I gained momentum, strength propelling me forward, speed accelerating, and I barreled forward. However, I quickly pulled back to try and sling the dry sand to blind Midas, the dust from it should fly into the air and be spread in the air if I predicted it to act as so.

Using this momentum, I then proceeded to whip my rear end around and lunge at Midas with my antlers, a sense of restraint within me as this was indeed my herdmate. My head was arched and close to my body, as well as the rest of my appendages. If I could keep it all within close range, it would give me a better chance to defend myself.

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Words: 496

Summary: Avalon turns around to put space between her and Midas, assuming he has landed, and with her back turned investigates her surroundings. She then quickly makes a sharp turn around and charges Midas full on, only to then, at last minute, pull back and attempt to sling sand and dust to blind Midas temporarily. She continues to run, turns around and charges again and lunges at Midas with her antlers, head arched.


Attack:: (1/3)

Magic:: No Magic To Use ;-P
image credits
Ascended Helovian

Midas the Gallant Posts: 1,164
Deceased
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 14.3 hh :: Immortal :: Soul is 7 (FF) Buff: HUNTER
Fina :: Common Zephyr :: Phoenix & Wakiya & Neve :: Common Zephyr :: Arctic Angel
#3

A buckskin soldier came forward, as I knew one eventually would. This opponent bore antlers, and was impressively built. Intelligence slipped forward and another face came into my mind; one of very similar proportions. Could this girl be related to my best Sergeant, Guacho? I stiffened unintentionally as she drew close. Her full size was realized, and to my dismay I had to tilt my cranium high for the simple task of regarding. A wary smile started tugging at both ends, my mind was already calculating advantages and disadvantages. The girl was massive, a framework of muscle and hair. Whereas I was small by natures grand plan, fleet as buck, and thankfully blessed with wings. Each size had their advantage.

“Excitement stirs your soul, yes? It’s mutual. I am Avalon.”

My wary smiles flicked higher into a borderline smirk, “I’m Midas,” I said simply, neither boldly or with soft tone. Titles had little meaning for those that took the sands; my ranking could easily be undone by a better opponent. To hold privileges, one had to be of a stout heart. Like Kri. Muzzle slithers down a notch, tucking toward my throat in a sort of nod that was respectful for our culture. From one warrior to another, we would welcome each other as brother and sister.

She paces off, and my wings slowly start to extend out of readiness. On the ground I couldn’t easily take her, that strength could/would overcome. The mix breed draft had her antlers, and I had my wings. A fair trade when considering Equines had neither. Avalon charges for me, an impressive sight—one that might have given a less seasoned warrior reason for worry.

Good thing I wasn’t untested.

Instead of fear or dismay, her bold attack gives me undiluted elation. I dance back a step, picking up my feet and keeping both eyes upon the charging mammoth. Dual wings thrust down hard, they successfully beat once and twice fast and accurate. I wanted to get above those horns, and above her towering self. Her first attack comes as a bluff, a volley of sand flies toward my direction—the granules strike my lower limbs. Buffing against rising feather tips, flying into rear legs, and the soft underbelly that rests below.

I countered this with another strong wing beat, hopping the shifting air would stir up any sand that she sent toward me. Maybe even send it back into that pretty masculine face. That stag like head comes up, full of points; all of which would be in my best interest to avoid. Splotched body continues to rise. Tucked limbs are drawn close to protect the fragile extensions that gave me the namesake ‘stallion.’ It would be a shame to lose that privilege. Her lunge falls short of victory—one knob grazes me on the left hindhoof, the impact forces it to dislodge a few inches from its constricted position.

Bannered tail slaps against my quarters, I swish it purposely back and forth. Tauntingly hoping that she might get a head slap from the swishing tendrils. Wings pump me up once more, before my limbs extend and I thrust hard to propel forward and down. Attempting to sail just out of reach of my partner, leaning far right I bend my left wing down and thrust it hard against where I hoped her barrel would be. A wing could be a powerful weapon, the force of a single thrust had enough muscle power to get my frame skyborn. It surely could strike and leave at the very least a bruise to remember.

Words:: 599

Setting:: Between the Oasis and Fire pit in Dragon's Throat. Clear starry night.

Attack:: (1/3)

Magic:: No magic

Buffs:: Swift & Bulk

Our colours come alive when I collide with you
with you, with you
[Image: 5388c9b80fe59]

Official Posts: 847
Administrator
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
Official
#4
Default win to Midas
He is awarded .5VP


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