09-05-2015, 11:19 AM
<style type="text/css">.darebattle_container{position:relative;z-index:1;width:476px;height:550px;background:#000 url('http://i797.photobucket.com/albums/yy258/tbiter/darebattle_zpsifl2v7g4.jpg')}.darebattle_container p{margin:0;}.darebattle_messagebox{position:absolute;z-index:10;left:60px;top:110px;width:360px;height:260px;color:#4C331A;font:12px 'Times New Roman', serif;background: rgba(255,255,255,0.2);}.darebattle_message{text-align:justify;padding:10px;height:220px;overflow:auto;}.darebattle_message::-webkit-scrollbar{width:1px;background:transparent;}.darebattle_bottomborder{border-bottom: 3px solid#1E1E1E;width:280px;text-align:center;}.darebattle_topborder{position:absolute;bottom:20px;width:300px;right:20px;border-top:1px solid #000;text-align:center;}</style><center><div class="darebattle_container"><div class="darebattle_messagebox"><p class="darebattle_bottomborder">THE DRAGON'S IRE, MORE FIERCE THAN FIRE<BR></p><p class="darebattle_message">
Adrenaline roars through his veins. He is curving, directing his path with tiny adjustments of his wings that work a steady rhythm to raise his mass. He sneaks a peek to his right, turning his neck and head to view the damage of his throbbing right side. His coarse black hairs whip around his ears, lashing like whips against the blue sky. Killdare assesses the impairment, his eyes following the cut in his flesh before he snorts. The female had struck out at him before he managed to pull himself into the air, her forelegs had met his flesh as they had been intended to do. The damage caught his thigh, curving up towards his buttock in his ascent. She was fast, he expected her to be, at least much more than he was anyway. Smart too, to use it against him, just as he had used his size and muscle against her.
The wound was fair, a hoof-sized, crescent shaped mark had sloughed off the top layers of skin. This left a red moon threatening to bleed but not holding the strength to break through that last barrier. If she was lucky, perhaps she would be privileged to lay claim to one of the many faint scars that riddled his muddy coat. Otherwise, he was justly sore, and he set his jaw to work through the ache it brought him.
He turned to face her, holding himself aloft with a careful push and pull. Gravity only grabs at his haunch, tugging at his sore side and making him grunt with anger and annoyance. His eyes narrow and he is met with a sight he did not see coming. Though the traces of light that flickered across her frame burned with a scent all their own, there was no scent to associate with her flight. He has but a brief moment to even register the fact that she is in the air, her earthy form racing towards him. Somehow she was zooming through the winds without wings, something he associated with sorcery or witchcraft. Even with his Kingdom granted prize, he was wary of magic and all things that resulted from it.
The illumination that greets his glassy gaze is blinding. A full force radiance that causes him to (without thinking) pull his left wing across his face. A temporary answer to shade his eyes, colors dance across his closed lids in reds and yellows, patterns forming from the intrusion. His make-shift shield does not come without incident. Now no longer using both scaled appendages to support his hefty weight, he falls away from her towards the earth. The bay bypasses the blast of wind that whistles past where he had been only a moment before. A shaking, rocking horse descent ensues before he can recall that he does in fact have wings, and he might do well to use them.
He brings his right wing in, tucking it to his side as he follows suit with his left, taking the appendage away from his face and pulling it towards his barrel. His head pointing down, he propels himself groundward and away, cutting his own path through the breeze. Spinning and spinning, creating a vortex of wind in his wake as he corrects his graceless fall. He lays a trap of his own. Hoping the pull is just enough to suck the female into his current, he releases himself from the fall, spreading reptilian flight tools to create his own personal parachute. Catching the updraft, the gust sends him rocketing upwards away from his cyclone winds to watch the world fall away.
Again, he must drive his berth in to damage her, not wanting to rely on the earth for his assaults. His back leg was far too sore and bruised to effectively hold his weight for a ground attack. Besides, carrying the weight of his leg against the Earth’s gravity was strain enough. When he finds her this time he strikes out with his uninjured front legs, aiming for her cannons.
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wind tunnel is 1st attack/counter- kick is 2nd attack
Adrenaline roars through his veins. He is curving, directing his path with tiny adjustments of his wings that work a steady rhythm to raise his mass. He sneaks a peek to his right, turning his neck and head to view the damage of his throbbing right side. His coarse black hairs whip around his ears, lashing like whips against the blue sky. Killdare assesses the impairment, his eyes following the cut in his flesh before he snorts. The female had struck out at him before he managed to pull himself into the air, her forelegs had met his flesh as they had been intended to do. The damage caught his thigh, curving up towards his buttock in his ascent. She was fast, he expected her to be, at least much more than he was anyway. Smart too, to use it against him, just as he had used his size and muscle against her.
The wound was fair, a hoof-sized, crescent shaped mark had sloughed off the top layers of skin. This left a red moon threatening to bleed but not holding the strength to break through that last barrier. If she was lucky, perhaps she would be privileged to lay claim to one of the many faint scars that riddled his muddy coat. Otherwise, he was justly sore, and he set his jaw to work through the ache it brought him.
He turned to face her, holding himself aloft with a careful push and pull. Gravity only grabs at his haunch, tugging at his sore side and making him grunt with anger and annoyance. His eyes narrow and he is met with a sight he did not see coming. Though the traces of light that flickered across her frame burned with a scent all their own, there was no scent to associate with her flight. He has but a brief moment to even register the fact that she is in the air, her earthy form racing towards him. Somehow she was zooming through the winds without wings, something he associated with sorcery or witchcraft. Even with his Kingdom granted prize, he was wary of magic and all things that resulted from it.
The illumination that greets his glassy gaze is blinding. A full force radiance that causes him to (without thinking) pull his left wing across his face. A temporary answer to shade his eyes, colors dance across his closed lids in reds and yellows, patterns forming from the intrusion. His make-shift shield does not come without incident. Now no longer using both scaled appendages to support his hefty weight, he falls away from her towards the earth. The bay bypasses the blast of wind that whistles past where he had been only a moment before. A shaking, rocking horse descent ensues before he can recall that he does in fact have wings, and he might do well to use them.
He brings his right wing in, tucking it to his side as he follows suit with his left, taking the appendage away from his face and pulling it towards his barrel. His head pointing down, he propels himself groundward and away, cutting his own path through the breeze. Spinning and spinning, creating a vortex of wind in his wake as he corrects his graceless fall. He lays a trap of his own. Hoping the pull is just enough to suck the female into his current, he releases himself from the fall, spreading reptilian flight tools to create his own personal parachute. Catching the updraft, the gust sends him rocketing upwards away from his cyclone winds to watch the world fall away.
Again, he must drive his berth in to damage her, not wanting to rely on the earth for his assaults. His back leg was far too sore and bruised to effectively hold his weight for a ground attack. Besides, carrying the weight of his leg against the Earth’s gravity was strain enough. When he finds her this time he strikes out with his uninjured front legs, aiming for her cannons.
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wind tunnel is 1st attack/counter- kick is 2nd attack
![[Image: ca94dsg_by_calltherp-dcioghd.gif]](https://orig00.deviantart.net/a2aa/f/2018/211/1/8/ca94dsg_by_calltherp-dcioghd.gif)
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