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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


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    [challenge] to: castile
    #1
    Castile,
    I challenge you.
    If I win, you will come and stay as a captive of Nerine for as long as you'd like, with a minimum stay of one BQ week.
    If you win, I will return the favor and stay in Loess for one week.
    Two posts each with one final defense post
    max 750 words per post 

    Starlin
    Grullo Tobiano Mare
    16hh light build
    no traits

    Once you accept this, I will post first.
    #2
    Starlin,

    I accept your challenge and terms.

    Castile
    Smoky black tobiano
    16.2 hands - somewhat thicker build than a mustang due to friesian influence
    #3
    She trots around the battle field, the swift movements warming up her muscles, as do the occasional bucks and rears. She is here early, in the darkness of the early dawn. They had set their match for dawn, but Starlin prefers to get the lay of the land.

    It is a cold autumn morning, and the wind is strong. It whips her dark hair around her head, and she makes a mental note to not allow it to obscure her vision. The bare earth of their arena is firm and flat, barely damp from a heavy rain two days past. It is in the center of that that Starlin comes to a halt, ready and waiting for her opponent.

    When he arrives, she wastes no time.

    The grullo mare trots toward him, and then passes closely and parallel on his right, not within striking range of his sharp teeth, but close enough that if he were to turn to follow her he would be an easy target for a well-timed buck. She counts on this, really, knowing that Castile is experienced in battle.

    As soon as her hindquarters are level with his chest, Starlin attacks.

    She takes a half stride forward, angling to the right so that when she lifts her forelegs in a rear, she is turned toward the right side of Castile’s hindquarters. She intends to bring her hooves down on his meaty flank, bruising the muscle and making it difficult for him to bear wear and turn easily using his hindquarters. She exerts nearly all her force, utilizing all of the training she has done.

    She could have hit harder - just a bit harder - but this is Castile she is fighting, Castile her friend, Castile who she has had a small crush on since she was just a child. Her desire to seriously injure him is minimal, but she also does not want to disappoint Nerine, so she does her best.
    #4
    Keep cool, he tells himself.
    She is like a sister… almost. A niece?

    He can recall her determination for battling; Starlin always wanted to be a soldier. Now, he muses, he can help teach her as best he can. With increasing experience, Castile is comfortable enough to accept her challenge without embarrassment, but his thoughts constantly require subduing.

    No, no shifting. She said no shifting.

    The terms have been set, so here he is.

    Castile’s muscles have already loosened from the trek here. He was sure to have taken enough breaks as to not exhaust his stamina prematurely, and so he arrives well prepared and warm despite the nip of an autumn breeze. It tousles his bronze locks, but the fidgeting curtain of hair isn’t enough to distract him from Starlin’s silhouette in the dawn’s first light. A smile would have creased his lips, but something churns within him, preventing him from pleasantries.

    Much to his appreciation, Starlin doesn’t bide her time. She trots toward him, taking a path to his right. A chain reaction to Castile is pinning his ears and snapping at her, but never trying to make contact as she spaces herself just outside his reach. Ever watchful, he flexes his neck to the right so that he may scrutinize her intentions. The moment she rears, Castile makes his flex into more of a right bend to swing his body away from Starlin’s flailing hooves. Instinct pressed him to protect his spine seeing how evenly matched in height they are, but it wasn’t enough for a complete dodge. She finds purchase on his hindquarters, one hoof hitting his flank while the other hits along the margin of the tensor fascial latae and biceps femoris. The force she applied ignites a fire in the muscles as blood pools frantically to the sites as an initial response to the concussion.

    Since he was already beginning his bend during her rear, Castile continues despite the discomfort of a tight turn. While still lifted, but coming down, he rams his right shoulder into her nearest side – her right – in hopes to knock her off balance.

    Almost immediately, he peels away to the left in a wide circle as to not stress his screaming muscles unnecessarily and coming back around to her like a shark. The adrenaline is already coursing through his body. His eyes flicker between slit pupils and normal as he continues with an internal struggle.

    (Prey)
    No…

    A deep breath expands his lungs as he desperately composes himself during the few strides still separating them. He charges toward her, hoping to use his body weight as an advantage. As he looms toward her forehand, aiming for her right side since he had looped left into a 360 turn, he lunges forward with his teeth bared. His goal is to, again, knock her somewhat off balance by hitting his chest to her right shoulder but following it with a series of bites.

    No shifting.

    His teeth remain normal and blunt.

    After the attack, he moves slightly to his left, keeping a steady angle between them so that she never strays from his vision.



    @[Starlin]
    #5
    She stumbles at the collision of his shoulder into her side, pushed aside by his bulk despite their similar heights. Scowling, she pivots to face him better, and is caught off guard by his quick turnaround. Starlin snaps her own teeth at him as a discouragement, but they are dull and will only pinch the skin of his neck or shoulder were she to make contact.

    Starlin is forced back again as he slams into her, and she tenses as she feels the heat of his breath before bites down.

    There is no shredding pain, just the ache of teeth as flat as her own, and even though she must sidestep to keep her balance, there is an easy grin on her face as she does so, and laughter in her voice when she speaks.

    "Is that all you've got?" teases the grulla mare. Her right side aches from the imapct and her crest still stings from the bites, but she charges forward when she has caught her breath, doing her best to press closely by Castile's left side, and aiming a cowkick at his flank as she passes.




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