[challenge] Krigare;

[Krigare]

Challenge accepted: ((OOC: super excited about this!))

Krigare

warlander cross || Classified with a thicker Friesian type build. || No traits no defects

strength: 6
speed: 3
agility: 3
intuition: 3
accuracy: 4
experience:

~

When the whispering begins, he is in his hollow. His dark bodice is pressed into the trees, eyelids closed in a dreamless, sleep. The calling pries emerald eyes open, muscles rigid with alert. 'Go' the voice that calls quietly to him is soft as summer rain. It wafts through the air on the bristling wind that ruffles his ebony locks in an attempt to raise him. 

When the bay stallion stands, his bones crack in a loud protest. Distantly, he can hear the faint wish wash of the ocean that borders his volcanic home. He listens to it as he leaves the land he had lived in for the past few years. The land where he was trying to build a family, a future. 

'Go'

The whisper is insistent now, urging him out of Tephra. It pushes him through the field and the barren land beyond it. It rushes him until he comes across a place that easily could have been on another planet. The air around him smelt thickly of despair and anger. The earth was cacked with iced over clay the color of autumn leaves and rubies. For a long time, he stares at the landscape, wondering how on earth anything (or anyone) would want him here.

It is then that he sees the other. He is a dark mass of black and white, a sharp contrast to the maroon tinted world around them. From what Krigare can see, they are the only equines dotting the land for miles. Their lonely hostel stretches from sky to horizon, not a cloud dotting the winter dome above them.

He realizes now that this is a challenge. A small smirk curls at the edge of salt cracked lips, dark hooves dragging him closer to the other. Once he is within a few feet of the unknown stag he offers a simple,

"Hello."

The stallion's voice is thick with an underlying hostility that melds with the winter air. Ebony tendrils brush against puckered scars that map his thick bodice. Green eyes trace the other, they were of a similar height and build... A fair fight indeed. Krigare takes little notice of the wings that the other possesses. To the dark stallion, they were simply another striking point.

"Lovely day for a bit of bloodshed, no?"

Krigare had always been one for impromptu small talk... With no further excuses, the stallion lunges to the left. He aims to impair one of the stallion's wings. A bite perhaps to damage the fine skin crafted for gliding? As he is not very fast, the other may be able to strike at his stomach, a very soft vantage point. Though if the other was really smart he would simply turn to lash out at Krigare with his teeth. 

The battle had begun, from this point on it would be flesh to flesh. A battle of wit and strength. 

"Let us dance child."

Krigare growls his next line, teeth clacking as he pulls away from the other's body. Curved satellites are pressed firmly against the arch of his strong neck, dark eyes narrowed to concentrated slits. He can hear his own heart pounding beneath the alabaster bones of his chest. It hammers like a caged animal as he paces, awaiting the other to make a move. Awaiting the other to slip on the icy ground that he so easily could trip on now. He could feel the effects of the weather on himself already. The cold had sent icy jolts into his joints when he lunged, his bones popping with dismay. 

He growls, a low noise emitted from deep inside his expansive chest. He turns to the left, praying to whatever there was that his next move might crush bone. Praying that it would hit at all. With a most literal leap, he kicks out with powerful hind legs. His aim is directed at one of his opponents forelegs, a most needed asset to running and frolicking about. Though he is slow, he is strong. He allows his body to finish the movement before swiftly turning to his right. His breathing is hitched, soft puffs of silver fog escaping his nostrils.

"Your turn."

Why he is here, why either of them is here is still unknown. Krigare's blood is mixed with the frothy mirth of adrenaline. His heart no longer beat for his alabaster angel, but for the cold of battle. The rush of pure power damaging others could bring. Though mixed with the burning of adrenaline, there is a sense of betrayal. Deep in his beating heart, he knew he should be in Tephra. Krigare knew he should be guarding his home, his lover. Yet despite the ache, he is here, battling some stallion he didn't even know. He was lashing out at him as though he had been the one responsible for all of Krigare's life problems. 

This is when his idea is born. A light flickers in his emerald eyes, a distant flare of revelation. All the anger the bay had built up could be used here. The hurt, the loss, the desire... every emotion the past year had hurled at him would be thrown into every move he offered. 

Maybe it would be enough to help him win.