| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 7 Buff: NOVICE |
|
Rhawon :: Siberian Tiger :: None
aeolle |
09-20-2013, 11:26 PM
(This post was last modified: 12-19-2013, 11:29 PM by Official.)
It is peaceful. War does not wage on this eve from the above skies,
it is clear, the moon shines down and bathes the landscape in a
milky smooth glow. The lush grasses are temptations,
beckoning hungry lip's to nibble upon their green (stalks?).
A singular red oak rises it's bodice high into the air and proclaims
glory to the highest heavens, and the silent rush of a river brings
forth those longing for a drink. It has turned a shade of ink in the night,
and the heaven's are reflected in it's quickly moving surface.
The tranquility is broken by a dark lady.
Her movements are elegant and placed well, the slight rise
of her neck haughty, perhaps a sign at how vain the creature is.
She is water hemlock. She is Circuta, she is a seeker of the
Asylum, and she is blood-thirsty.
How long has it been since warm, soft flesh is pummeled beneath her daintily sharp hooves?
How long, since her weaponry sinks and slices across another's eager form?
And how long, since she has done lady Death's wish?
The fight she had not so long ago with the drake's in defense
of the mother Leto awakened her need for blood once more. She has
grown too emotional, she needs a fight, she needs to feel the burn of her
muscles and the satisfied ache afterwards. She needs it, she craves it, acid burns
in her heart and her soul and wraps coils around her chest. It has become
an addiction, unhealthy, she knows, but she cannot stop this,
because she knows if she holds the demon back too long, she will go insane.
It's not even a question, she can feel it creeping in the corners
of her minds, as a beast; ready to swallow her whole.
Maybe it hurts a bit to know she's in a prison, a prison of her mind.
But as oxymoron as the statement is, nothing feels the same as the thrill of the hunt, no.
Indigo orb's flash, and she pauses to observe her surroundings with a quizzical gaze.
Her right hoof stamps into the earth in a mirror of her mood, and she shakes her head and neck
slightly outwards, her mane rippling in accordance, her neck appearing more long
and serpentine. She snorts, softly, her harks raised for now; listening to the wind,
waiting for the unknown to occur. She seeks a duel as a bloodhound searches for a fox.
The fox is coming, the wind says.
And so she waits.
WC: 428 & 2291 characters
"..a minimum of 3 attack posts each and a closing defense to earn VP." - 3 Attack Posts : + 1 Closing Defense
Setting: The skies are mostly clear, the moon and star's the only source of light in the landscape of the Thistle Meadow. Warm, though a chill is present as a bitter reminder of the lack of sunlight. Wind's are calm, visibility will be clear as would be expected.
Circuta awaits a partner to spar with.
@[Histe]
CREDITS
VENOMXBABY : MIDNIGHTSTOUCHSTOCK
|
| Deceased |
| Mare :: Equine :: 15.1 :: 5 Buff: NOVICE |
|
Merikh :: Cougar :: Paralyze
ali |
HISTE</style>
your breathing sounds like the sickest
music playing backwards in my head</style>
They moved together in the darkness of the night, both of them quiet as wraiths and as dangerous as death itself. The striped mare and the cougar were on the hunt once more, both of them craved the thrill of battle, the feel of flesh yielding beneath hooves and claws, and the salty and slightly metallic taste of blood coating their tongues and sliding down their throats. They were out for blood and the first they found, be it horse or otherwise, would get the full brunt of their combined blood lust.
Merikh stopped suddenly, a growl rumbling low in his throat. Histe didn't need to hear him tell her mentally that he smelled another horse. She had learned to read his growls and understand them and, in return, she often growled and snarled. She had paused, her muscles trembling as adrenaline already began to pump through her veins. Muscles trembled and saliva coated her mouth as she imagined feeding on the poor soul that had been targeted by the duo.
The acidic mare strode forward, the cougar lingering a few paces behind her. With each step her excitement grew and she could not contain the cackle that erupted from her throat and echoed into the darkness. The night was clear, the moon shining brightly on the world below and in the glow of the moonlight she could see the dim outline of a horse. No. A unicorn.
Even better.
Histe's thin tail smacked against her legs as she continued forward. The other mare may have been a bit taller and a touch more sleek, but Histe was nothing to scoff at. Her own Teke and Thoroughbred lines made her sleek while the Mustang in her added the muscle that would give her an edge if she used it to her advantage. As she came to face the mare Histe was still for only a minute. No greeting was given, no exchange of names. Instead she lifted slightly onto her hind legs and lurched forward, her forehooves aiming to strike at the slender mare's forelegs and scrape down them should her first hit land. At the same time she snapped her teeth at Circuta's face with the intent that it distract her from the strike at her legs.
[1/4 Word Count: 378
Histe arrives and promptly attacks Circuta. She stikes at her forelegs aiming to scrape skin away if the hit lands. At the same time she bites at her face, hoping that it will be enough to distract her from the strike at her legs. Merikh is hanging back for the moment.]
|
 |
CREDITS
| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 7 Buff: NOVICE |
|
Rhawon :: Siberian Tiger :: None
aeolle |
She doesn't have to wait long.
The Fox comes.
But as it comes, she thinks she may smell something, something off,
like a predator. It lurks somewhere behind the Fox, and
her harks flick upwards, before pinning down into her mane.
Back to the Fox. As it approaches further,
she notes it has no weaponry, and this she will note is
an advantage. If the Fox attacks her, she will remember
that her weaponry remains adorned upon her forehead.
It is not straight enough to stab. If she wants to use her
horn, she will have to find a way to involve it.
And yet, if she can just get it into that warm flesh..
The mare is shorter then her, too, if a bit less sleek.
They resemble each other slightly, however, and it is clear
to the Akhal-Teke that she must share the mare's distant bloodlines of her
breed.
..Had she been cackling, just a few seconds ago, too?
No matter. It was not of impotence.
Tension built between the two.
But the Fox still paused in front of her. It was only for a moment, silence echoed in her
harks.
It was then that they shared one simple emotion in the darkness; they shared blood-lust.
It glinted in their orbs, it was what filled the silence with tension.
And then the storm broke.
The Fox has the first attack, raising herself and lunging forwards;
her hooves weapons that wish to slice and bruise her apparel,
to end her. She lurches backwards, her thoughts disrupted
suddenly, she has no time to think. The mare's ivories snap at her face,
and suddenly mild panic fuels her motions.
This Fox is trying to ruin her face.
It's trying to ruin her face.
No! She doesn't want her face to have
scars placed along it, her beauty, her gem! Her face
is important to her, the most important part of her body, in her
gaze. She is vain. She is beautiful. She wants to stay that way,
and this Fox is not going to touch her face!
Her neck jerks to the right, avoiding her ivories, but they leave
a scrape across her crest, and she feels the sting of pain afterwards.
That's not the only thing she has to worry about, though. She has
forgotten about the mare's forelegs. How could she?
The wind scolds her, and she resists a flinch as the Fox's
dangerous little swords scrape down her own front pillars.
It hurts, she's forgotten about how much these things can hurt, and she
hisses in response. It will heal, with time, but they still
leave marks upon her apparel. Fashion is not aided by
scar's. It's hard to be a femme. So very hard.
She would have sighed, if she didn't feel rage at the
actions of the other. Ivories bared, she snaps them at the other
mare's maw, aiming to leave scrapes across it's surface.
Raising herself, though a minuscule amount off the ground,
she aims her own daggers towards the mare's point of shoulder
and her breast. She hopes they will land and place scrapes
of their own across the Fox's apparel. If they miss, they will likely slide
harmlessly off her skin, and she grimaces at the thought.
As soon as she begins these actions, she allows the weight of her raised
body to distribute more evenly towards her front, causing her to fall back down towards the
earth. This is on purpose, as if her forelegs meet the mare's breast or point of shoulder,
the sudden weight of her pressing downwards may push her backwards, away
from her face. God's, if she lay's a scratch across her maw, she's going to..
Well. She was already planning on hurting her.
What else can she threaten?
WC: 637 & 3448 characters
1/3
:: As Histe aims her teeth towards Circuta's face, she jerks her neck to the right, leaving it facing Histe instead, and thus receiving scrapes along her crest. Histe succeeds in distracting her, however, and her forelegs receive scratches along their length. In response, Circuta attempts to leave marks across Histe's maw with her own teeth, shifting her weight to her hindquarters and trying to pound Histe's chest area with her hooves. If unsuccessful, they will slide harmlessly across her skin. As a final act, she distributes her weight more evenly to her front, so that she will fall back down to the ground. She hopes that if her hooves hit their mark, this will push Histe backwards, away from her body. She also hopes this will cause more bruising.
@[Histe]
CREDITS
VENOMXBABY : MIDNIGHTSTOUCHSTOCK
|
| Deceased |
| Mare :: Equine :: 15.1 :: 5 Buff: NOVICE |
|
Merikh :: Cougar :: Paralyze
ali |
HISTE</style>
your breathing sounds like the sickest
music playing backwards in my head</style>
Histe's ears laid back against her head as the other mare's head ducked to the right, her face avoiding the bite and instead taking it to her crest. She was unable to hold on and her teeth simply scraped along Circuta's crest before snapping together with an audible click!. Her hooves struck true, however, and she could feel them bumping along the unicorn's forelegs and could imagine the blood that would come to the surface should the cracked edges of her hooves tear the thin flesh. Oh, the smell of blood would be so pungent and add fuel to the blood lust that was burning white hot within the brindled mare's heart.
An angry scream erupted from her throat as Circuta's teeth clamped down on the thin flesh over the bridge of her nose, pinching it and pulling out hairs. The pain itself was dulled thanks to the dragonfire that had burned her nerve endings, but the idea that she had landed such an easy blow so early on in the fight angered her. She jerked her head back, quickly freeing herself from the bite but the dulled feeling of the pinch lingered as a reminder that the other mare had been successful, and for that she would have to be hurt.
Overhead clouds began to roll in and lightning split the sky followed by the crack and rumble of thunder. The wind picked up, blowing Histe's mane forward and carrying her demonic laughter. It started slow at first, the soft pitter patter of rain, drops hitting her pack and haunches, shoulder and face, sizzling and burning. Then it came faster and harder, torrents of acid rain falling from the heavens and burning anything that it touched, setting fire to dried grass and bushes. This was her element. This was where she felt the most powerful and glorified.
The unicorn's half rear was not missed by Histe and rather than take the blow to her chest she turned to her left so the mare's hooves hit against her right shoulder. She jumped forward then, cow kicking at Circuta as she came down from her rear and hoping to clip one of the mare's forelegs. Histe giggled then, the sound nearly lost in the roar of the rain. "It's raining. It's pouring." She trotted in a circle, her pale eyes on the unicorn mare. "The unicorn is melting. Split her skull and break her back..." She giggled again and tossed her head back, eyes wide and wild as she refused to keep moving lest her shoulder begin to stiffen from the blow she had received from the damned unicorn. "Have her as a snack!"
Her movement slowed and she came to a standstill, turning to face Circuta. Behind his bonded Merikh readied himself, crouching low to the ground, knowing that his bonded was expecting the unicorn mare to charge. When she did he would use the ability he'd been gifted with to paralyze her so Histe could deliver a blow that would hopefully cripple her for the rest of the fight at the very least. Of course he was hoping they would be able to kill her because it had been a while since they'd feasted on a unicorn.
"Come on little girl." Histe crooned to the other mare. "Don't keep me waiting." "We go if she doesn't come to us." She mentally informed the cougar to which he responded with a "Yes."
[2/3 Word Count: 572
Histe takes Circuta's bite to the bridge of her nose then calls upon her magic and the acid rain storm rolls in. The rain is light at first then turns into a downpour, igniting several dried plants/bushes. Histe notices Circuta's half rear and turns so that she takes the blow to her right shoulder instead of her chest. She jumps away as Circuta comes down to the ground, cow kicking at one of her forelegs as she moves past. Histe then trots away and taunts Circuta by singing her a song. She continues to move to keep her shoulder from growing stiff from the hit she took to it. As Histe slows to a standstill she taunts Circuta again as Merikh readies himself for a charge that he and Histe assume is coming. If Circuta does charge he will scream and use his paralyze ability to stop her so Histe can attack her effectively. If not the pair will charge and when they get close he will use his Paralyze ability then.]
|
|
CREDITS
| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 7 Buff: NOVICE |
|
Rhawon :: Siberian Tiger :: None
aeolle |
satisfaction coursed through her as her ivories clasped unto the bridge
of another maw, though she knows it is by no means fatal,
and the scrapes and cuts along her forelegs are a painful
reminder that the fox has turned into the deadly wolf,
that the bloodhound is now the fox, and that she is being
hunted even as she hunts the hunter.
it's bizarre, but she is by no means in a herd
of sane individuals, pure of mind and heart.
a crashing wave of disappointment follows afterwards,
as her attack which she hoped to land on the blood-thirsty
werewolves chest is met with the solid thud of a right shoulder.
she knows it was not such a lucky blow. clouds begin to grow in the clear skies, stormy weather she realizes;
as lightning strikes and the first droplet's fall.
normal.
so then why is it sizzling, burning against her
apparel with a candle hot flame?
she dismisses it at first as her imagination, she can't focus on it regardless,
for the cackling werewolf attacks her again, and she is forced to respond.
her muscles ripple across her flesh as she lifts herself once more in a harmless move to escape the sharp
daggers. it scrapes across a tender cut on right foreleg and the pain blooms behind her mind as red flowers
in her vision. mane is blown in the wind, and the insane werewolf continues to cackle.
the wind is not her wind, not now, it strikes
against her with a force and she feels as if it is
foreign to the winds she so willingly listens to,
readily enjoy's it's company. this is not her wind, no,
and the rain falls harder, acidic poison that burns her flesh and
seems to relish her anguish. she stumbles, she feels defeat and true despair
creeping upwards close to her soul and crushing her flame. the now heavy acidic rain that falls in torrents
from the raging skies turns her entire body to a singular roar of flame, or at least, it feels like it.
it hurts, it hurts so much, she has never experienced this pain before, she has never dealt with true magic before,
and this werewolf may be too fair out of her league. she surely cannot best her, it is impossible.
her harks are ringing due to the amount of pain she is suffering, she hear's lyrics being weaved into the air, and yet she cannot
focus on them. she is ready to give in, and yet, one thing, one thing brings her back
to reality with a startling force. the white general.
he brought her into the asylum, offered her a home, and here she is, failing at the one
task she is supposed to be best at. she can see the disappointment in his ice orbs,
and somehow, this fuels her. she forces her mind past the mind numbing pain to the present.
in the midst of the acid, there is a smell, a odd smell she recognized at the beginning of the fight,
but just now truly realized it's origins. it is the scent of a feline, a mountain predator, a beast, and a foggy
bell of a memory rings in her orbs. a word: bonded.
long ago, she was told she was good at lying.
she is supposed to be a actress. and she will play her lines.
slowly, her bodice appears more and more fatigued, and she finally
lowers her dome to press forwards towards the mare, orbs downcast in
utter surrender, head turned aside in shame. it is not hard to do, when she remembers
how poorly she defended herself earlier against the werewolf.
her voice is a proud, but defeated whisper.
"i.. i cannot best you, werewolf."
as she speaks, she moves as if to leave, circling around the werewolf towards
the forest, head hung lowly in shame, though her tail flicked haughtily. a sore loser, she was,
but one who could acknowledge her betters.
she picks up the scent stronger now.
she stumbles. proof of her weakness.
and then in a blinding rage, her hooves dig purchase
into the acidic earth, her weight shifts to her hinds.
she catches glittering orbs in the grass.
and with every ounce of hatred in her body, she aims her daggers down
at the felines head, attempting to knock it unconscious. as her weight comes back down, she lowers her dome, attempting to slice her crown through flesh and muscle of the great cat's shoulder. she will make the white general proud.
@[Histe]
wc: 763 words 4113 characters
2/3
:: Circuta is growing medium burns along her entire body as the acid downpour meets her flesh. When Histe cow kicks at one of her forelegs, she raises up slightly unto her hind once more, in a frantic attempt to avoid the hoof. It does not fully succeed, and instead hits a already tender scrape from Histe's previous attack. A faint scent from before lingers in her nostrils, and she realizes that Histe must be bonded, as well. Moving forwards at a circular, slow, non-threatening angle, she makes a defeated move towards the treeline, hoping that Histe will not see through her disquise until it is too late. When she is near Merikh, she stumbles to further her act. She wheels towards Merikh's right, catching what she believes to be a glint of eyes in the darkness. Raising upwards unto her hind one last time, she tries to aim her attack at Merikh's head, in an attempt to knock him unconscious for the remainder of the fight. If it does not succeed, the hooves will likely either hit Merikh's shoulder, or slip off harmlessly. Finally, as she comes downwards again, she tries to use her horn to impale Merikh's shoulder. If it does not succeed, it will likely only leave a scratch.
CREDITS
VENOMXBABY : MIDNIGHTSTOUCHSTOCK
|
| Deceased |
| Mare :: Equine :: 15.1 :: 5 Buff: NOVICE |
|
Merikh :: Cougar :: Paralyze
ali |
HISTE</style>
your breathing sounds like the sickest
music playing backwards in my head</style>
The burning and sizzling of the acid against Histe's skin acted like a drug. She was drunk on her own magic, which could have been a good thing had she not been using it against an opponent who wished to best her. But like all drugs she was about to come down from her high because the rain was already coming to an end. Her thin tail flicked back and forth, slinging acid against her sides as her pale eyes watched the unicorn she had been taunting moments before. She hated the waiting and almost allowed her legs to carry her toward Circuta so the fight would be continued, but she could feel Merikh in her mind calming her and so she waited. At least until the mare spoke and made to leave the battle field.
What? Did she really think that Histe was just going to let her leave. No, no, it certainly didn't work like that. One of her ears rotated back as Merikh moved from his place behind her to get a better vantage point. Histe ground her teeth against one another, growing irritated at the pain she inflicted upon herself but that irritation she would nurture until it turned into anger then rage and she would use that rage to smash the unicorn into a bloody pulp in the middle of the battlefield.
She began to move then because she was not going to just let her get away. "Don't run." She called out to the mare. "The fun's only just begun. I haven't drawn enough blood yet." "Kill her. Destroy her. She is beneath you." And the voices of her parents were back, echoing in her head as she trailed behind the unicorn, her strides increasing in length so as to close the distance between them. Histe fell into silence, the only expression on her face a twisted smile that promised pain when she finally closed the distance. "She deserves to DIE."
Oh! But the mare had a surprise in store for her that was very unwelcome. When Circuta stumbled Histe threw her weight forward, her hooves driving into the now muddy ground and finding purchase as she launched herself toward her, and it was the same moment that Circuta thought to attack Merikh. The cougar through himself backwards so that her hooves would miss his head, but he did not miss the hit entirely. Sharp hooves came down on his front left paw and through her bond with him Histe could feel the intensity of the pain she had wrought on him. It propelled her forward, but she could not protect her companion from the unicorn's horn and she felt, again, his pain as the tip of her weapon sliced through his flesh.
"Now! DO IT!" She screamed mentally at the cougar who then screamed, releasing his paralyzing ability on the mare who had just attacked him. Histe continued hurtling through the mud, fully intent on slamming the full weight of her body into the unicorn not caring what the outcome of it would be on her own body so long as the unicorn lay broken in the mud.
No one hurt her companion but her and she would do well to remember it if she lived. Above them the clouds had already begun the clear and the moon light shone down on the demons below.
[3/3 Word Count: 562
Histe follows after Circuta when she makes to leave the battlefield. The rain has stopped at this point. When Circuta stumbles Histe throws herself into a gallop intent on taking advantage of the stumble and attacking her, but was not expecting her to attack Merikh. Merikh jumps back and his paw is caught under Circuta's hooves. He is stuck where he is so he takes the cut from her horn. Histe tells Merikh mentally to use his Paralyze ability so Merikh does so by screaming at Circuta. Histe continues to charge Circuta after Merkih uses his ability intent on slamming her full weight into the other mare, careless of what injuries it might result in for herself.]
|
|
CREDITS
| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 7 Buff: NOVICE |
|
Rhawon :: Siberian Tiger :: None
aeolle |
09-26-2013, 05:55 AM
(This post was last modified: 09-26-2013, 07:12 AM by Circuta.)
The rain comes to an end, and as does the immediate pain to her bodice.
It leaves her burnt, her entire frame scream's it's agony at her mind,
and she grits her teeth hard inside her maw to keep from screaming
out her agony. It aches, all of her frame aches, and she beg's
the heaven's for it to end.
The dreaded mare comes towards her, she speaks her wicked lyrics
in return to her faked, and her heart leaps. She hopes she will have time
to bring pain upon the wretched creature the Werewolf seems to have
under her control.
And she does.
A pleased wave floods her as a hoof slams down upon a paw, though
filled with frustration that the beast has not been knocked unconscious,
that his skull is not split in front of her, as some bloodied fruit. She wants him dead.
No. She wants the Werewolf dead. She wants her to change,
back into a small fox, so that she may be chased by the wolf, barbed
with sharp fangs and smeared across the earth.
But it is not to be.
Not on this eve.
Her horn slices into flesh, and she can feel blood splatter
unto her maw. It's scent, drawn from her enemy,
brightens her mood considerably. She has done good, she has done good.
She yanks her horn outwards, lifting her neck in satisfaction to begin and turn towards the
Werewolf.
And then it happens.
Her muscles freeze. They lock in place, and the sounds of the
crazed mare running towards her sleek frame alert her
to her fast moving arrival. Panic attaches itself to her soul, her heart,
and she desperately attempts to yank her neck upwards, to face her
enemy wholly with her crowned weaponry. It does not work, it does not work, and she
panics further, her heart constricting as the dreaded mare comes closer.
And closer.
She tries once more, but her body refuses her commands as if it was
someone else's, not her own. She would close her eyes, but they remain
dreadfully open, observing her coming attack.
Time seems to slow.
It does not slow down enough.
The mare slams into her side, her entire weight being thrown into her delicate frame.
And then she knows true pain. True panic. Because she still cannot move, cannot keep herself
from falling, and she does, painfully quickly; the impact with
the earth ricocheting up her entire body. It hurts, it hurts so much, and her
vision seems to go dull. Is anything broken? It's too hard to tell, her
pain too great, her mind feels as if it is shutting down
in order to deal with the unholy amount of agony she is experiencing.
She lays there, sideways in the mud, unable to move her legs,
unable to move anything. She would cry, if tears came to her orbs,
but they don't. And then shame befalls her, complete and whole shame, for she
has failed. She is a disgrace. She cannot fight a equine and win.
She has failed everything. Everyone.
And most of all, she has failed the white general. What will he think,
when he sees her bruised and battered frame, the blood leaking down her forelegs?
What will he think, what will he say to this disgrace of a mare, this
weakling of a warrior? She has no title as a predator, not now,
the shade doesn't deserve it.
The physical pain is better then the mental pain, she decides,
as she lays in the acidic mud. It is much better.
They will scar. She will live past this night.
But her mind cannot heal it's wounds. It cannot fix it's cracks and torn crevices.
She aches.
The white General will hate her. He will despise her. And something in those few
thoughts breaks her, internally. It is then that she finally feels a tear, slide down from her
orbs, painfully slowly. Her hark twitches.
She still cannot move.
Her voice croaks from her lungs.
"You are a worthy opponent, werewolf. My respect.."
She doesn't try to move again. She is broken, a tossed away doll.
It is sudden that she realizes what this feeling is, when she is around the white one.
It's love.
And she has never known more pain, then now.
@[Histe]
Word Counter
wc: 720 words 3898 characters
3/3 - thank you for this wonderful spar, ali!
:: Circuta raises her head after her horn slices through Merikh's flesh, though she does not manage to turn it in time to face Histe. Histe's charge is successful, and Circuta; unable to steady herself; is knocked to the ground on her side due to the force of Histe's entire body slamming into her own. Towards the end of the post, she feels her ear begin to be able to flick, as well as a tear slide from her eye. She still cannot move, however, and does not try again. There is no attack here.
CREDITS
VENOMXBABY : MIDNIGHTSTOUCHSTOCK
|
| Deceased |
| Mare :: Equine :: 15.1 :: 5 Buff: NOVICE |
|
Merikh :: Cougar :: Paralyze
ali |
HISTE</style>
your breathing sounds like the sickest
music playing backwards in my head</style>
Histe did not slow down as she hurtled toward the mare, careless of the affects hit would have on her own body. What did it matter in the short term? So long as she made Circuta hurt what did it matter what it did to her body? Pale eyes stayed locked on the mare who had been frozen in place by Merikh (she would have to reward him later) and time suddenly felt like it was going in slow motion but it was merely because Histe was enjoying the fear she saw reflected in the unicorn's eyes. It was that fear that made her life worth living, made injuring herself worth it.
The brindled mare braced herself as she slammed the entirety of her body into the unicorn mare, realizing belatedly that she was more than lucky that Merikh had been able to paralyze her because that horn would probably hurt a lot more than she suspected it did. The impact with the other mare made Histe stop rather suddenly and ungracefully. Her chest and right shoulder took the brunt of the hit and there was a flurry of movement as Circuta was toppled over and Merikh dashed away with his paw freed and his job completed.
In a final show of superiority Histe threw her weight back onto her hind legs and rose into the air for only a few seconds before she came down, slamming her hooves hard into the muddy Earth. She purposely missed Circuta's head just so the mare would know how close she had come to death's door. Just so she would know who she owed for sparing her life. The brindled mare snorted and glared down, ignoring the dull ache that was starting to form in her chest and shoulder from the hits she had taken both from Circuta and herself.
Without another word Histe turned and began to slowly walk away, trying to hide the limp that was starting to form, of which she had no one to blame but herself. "Merikh!" She barked out for the cougar who answered with a growl and a hiss. Histe paused when she heard Circuta's voice but she said nothing in response because now she had to find a healer to fix Merikh's paw because of the bitch. Next time she would kill her, she decided, but for now she would let her live knowing that she had the werewolf to thank for it.
"."
[Closing Defense
Word Count: 408
Histe slams her body into Circuta, resulting in an injury to her chest and shoulder. The impact makes her stop suddenly and she rears. She then slams her hooves down close to Circuta's head just to scare her. Histe then calls for Merikh and turns to leave to find him a healer.
Great fight, Aeolle!]
|
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CREDITS
| Administrator |
| Stallion :: Equine :: :: |
| Official |
C I R C U T A | H I S T A
- - - - -
By my verdict HISTE is the winner.
Histe received 1 VP.
Histe -- post 1 (attack only)
[Realism]
+ 1| Attack: Foreleg attack.
+ 1| Attack: Bite.
[Prose]
+ 1| Emotion.
+ 1| Flow.
+ 1| Easy Read.
Circuta -- post 1
[Realism]
+ 1| Injury: Taking the bite to her chest.
- 1| Injury: You already said that she moved backwards to avoid Histe's legs - that attack occurred before her bite, but you're responding to it as if it happened after.
+ 1| Attack: Bites towards Histe's nose
0| Attack: Striking out towards Histe's shoulder. Not only would she have to raise herself more than 'a minuscule amount off the ground', but there's no indication of which shoulder she's aiming for, or if it's both.
[Prose]
+ 1| Emotion.
0| Flow: The timing of injuries was off.
+ 1| Easy Read.
Histe -- post 2
[Realism]
+ 1| Injury: Bite to her nose.
0| Injury: No mention of pain from Circuta's rear
+ 1| Attack: Turning to the side and cow-kicking toward's Circuta's legs.
+ 1| Attack: Acid rain!
[Prose]
+ 1| Emotion. Haha. She's so creepy. :P
+ 1| Flow.
+ 1| Easy Read.
Circuta -- post 2
[Realism]
+ 1| Injury: Histe's kick.
+ 1| Injury: Acid rain!
+ 1| Defense: Pretending to give up.
+ 1| Attack: Using her hooves to try and attack Merikh's head.
+ 1| Attack: Horn attack towards Merikh.
[Prose]
+ 1| Emotion.
+ 1| Flow.
+ 1| Easy Read.
Histe -- post 3
[Realism]
+ 1| Injury: Attack on Merikh's paw.
+ 1| Injury: Horn attack at Merikh.
- 1| Borderline PP: ...releasing his paralyzing ability on the mare who had just attacked him
0| Attack: Histe running towards Circuta.: no mention of direction.
[Prose]
+ 1| Emotion.
+ 1| Flow.
+ 1| Easy Read.
Circuta -- post 3
[Realism]
+ 1| Injury: Being paralyzed.
+ 1| Injury: Being knocked over by Histe.
[Prose]
+ 1| Emotion.
+ 1| Flow.
+ 1| Easy Read.
CHALLENGER -- post 5 (defense only)
[Realism]
+ 1| Injury: Owe. Knocking another horse over.
Histe
[Bonus]
+ 1| Breed Comparison.
+ 1| Surroundings.
[Injuries]
+ 1| Least Injured.
[Creativity]
+ 1| SHE IS SO CREEPY. I like how you really intertwined her abilities, and her personality.
Comments: HGGGG. I wouldn't want to meet Histe in a dark alley...or...anywhere! Really great spar.
Circuta
[Bonus]
+ 1| Breed Comparison.
+ 1| Surroundings.
[Injuries]
--
[Creativity]
+ 1| I loved reading Circuta - how she viewed Histe and Merikh, and her thoughts about the Asylum.
Comments: Really great job. I especially liked how true you stayed to her injuries during the spar.
TOTAL
Histe- 70
Circuta- 69
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image credit to Paulo Brandão
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[JUDGED] i keep it caged :: [HISTE : SPAR - OLD SYSTEM]
