05-02-2018, 03:30 PM
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]
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]