PHAEDRUS
He had to be going crazy! Why couldn't he get his act together. Making stupid decissions. Working through stupid nonsequential problems while looking for a mock? How idiotic can one get? Appearantly very.
Then its there, a lone black speck in the middle of golden reeds. Chocolate pupils glint focusing in on their target. Rain pounding against his coat. Sleek black, they both are the color of midnight. But no there is something else, Phaedrus' cobalt streamers, and enormous black wings shadow across the land as he cuts through the air. Eager anticipation, shallow quick breathes, blood pumping in his ears. They flick flat against his skull, his teeth clench with a need, hooves tuck preparing for the possibilty of contact, with battle on the horizon he knows one thing only. This was home.
Landing several feet away, the stallion bows with a formal greeting, wings folding and curling around his chest as a peace offering. Before he stands straight once more. No words, words are not needed here, actions alone speak. They tell their stories not through language, but through the dance. The dance that leads most to their deaths.
Circling, that is the start that he begins. Shoulder to hip, hooves dancing counter clockwise, Phaedrus waits for the other to make an attack. As soon as he sees that the other will not make the first move, the cobalt mane whips and lashes with the force of the charge. Its the charge to the next opening he sees avalible.
If all went well then Phadrus' left hind hoof would make a heavy square kick to the right shoulder of his opponite. Now knowing the ways of battle and the skills possible of the others, he knows that a counter attack could be coming, so his primary attention would be on the others flank as there was no desire on his part to recieve a kick in the face. If he so happened to miss he is sure that a scrape of the hooves along muscle would do more damage than a squared off kick.
Considering that these are his hind legs there is one other aspect to his attack, should the stallion have his head turned in trying to watch phaedrus circle, well then. Lets just say that hsi face would have a nasty scar later from the incident.
For his second attack, with his head so low he can see the other stallions hind leg, just above the knee looked to be a very sensitive area, so elongating his neck Phaedrus creates a bendable version of his neck so that he lash out with his teeth to that tendon. Of course he has no intention of permanently maming the other. But that was what the bow was for, to provide the other with assurance of no ill will.
Then its there, a lone black speck in the middle of golden reeds. Chocolate pupils glint focusing in on their target. Rain pounding against his coat. Sleek black, they both are the color of midnight. But no there is something else, Phaedrus' cobalt streamers, and enormous black wings shadow across the land as he cuts through the air. Eager anticipation, shallow quick breathes, blood pumping in his ears. They flick flat against his skull, his teeth clench with a need, hooves tuck preparing for the possibilty of contact, with battle on the horizon he knows one thing only. This was home.
Landing several feet away, the stallion bows with a formal greeting, wings folding and curling around his chest as a peace offering. Before he stands straight once more. No words, words are not needed here, actions alone speak. They tell their stories not through language, but through the dance. The dance that leads most to their deaths.
Circling, that is the start that he begins. Shoulder to hip, hooves dancing counter clockwise, Phaedrus waits for the other to make an attack. As soon as he sees that the other will not make the first move, the cobalt mane whips and lashes with the force of the charge. Its the charge to the next opening he sees avalible.
If all went well then Phadrus' left hind hoof would make a heavy square kick to the right shoulder of his opponite. Now knowing the ways of battle and the skills possible of the others, he knows that a counter attack could be coming, so his primary attention would be on the others flank as there was no desire on his part to recieve a kick in the face. If he so happened to miss he is sure that a scrape of the hooves along muscle would do more damage than a squared off kick.
Considering that these are his hind legs there is one other aspect to his attack, should the stallion have his head turned in trying to watch phaedrus circle, well then. Lets just say that hsi face would have a nasty scar later from the incident.
For his second attack, with his head so low he can see the other stallions hind leg, just above the knee looked to be a very sensitive area, so elongating his neck Phaedrus creates a bendable version of his neck so that he lash out with his teeth to that tendon. Of course he has no intention of permanently maming the other. But that was what the bow was for, to provide the other with assurance of no ill will.
i'll carry this flag, to the grave if i must
OOC: Sorry this is soooo late and the bad grammar as well ><.
@[Krys]