09-17-2015, 06:41 PM
<style type="text/css">.container {position: relative;z-index: 1;width: 455px; /*frame width*/ padding: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; background: #000202; /*background color*/border: 2px solid #000; box-shadow: 0px 0px 30px #800000; border-radius: 15px; /*border size, style, and color*/}.container p {margin: 0;}.image {border: 1px solid #000; /*image border size, style, and color*/} .message {text-align: justify;font: 12px 'Times New Roman', serif; /*message font size and face*/padding: 15px 0; padding-bottom: 0px; color: #fff; /*message font color*/}.name {text-align: center;font: 30px 'Times New Roman', serif; /*name font size and face*/color: #800000; /*message font color*/padding: 0;}.quote {text-align: center;font: 14px 'Times New Roman', serif; /*quote font size and face*/font-style: italic;color: #800000; /*quote font color*/padding: 0;}</style><center><div class="container"><p class="quote">i'm on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell</p><p class="message">
The battle was waged and their proverbial horns were locked. Neither stallion was conceding anything to the other, and Warship found himself thriving on it. There was none of the silly circling and running; fairly evenly matched, keeping the battle high and tight. A light sheen of sweat made his coat shine blue-black, and his nostrils were moist and bright pink. The sky was still rumbling threateningly, and Warship could feel the electricity crackling in the air. Yes, it was a good day for battle.
He felt the moment his horns met skin, soon to be followed by the sweet copper scent of blood that permeated the air. Though it wasn’t a deadly injury by any stretch, it probably stung and Warship hoped it would serve as a distraction to Hurricane if nothing else. He had moved quickly into his next attack, and he was pleased to feel meat and muscle beneath his hooves. Again not a devastating injury, or even a hindering one, but it was a homerun nonetheless. But there’s little time to rejoice in his victories, for the speed of the battle was one of epic proportions. When Warships hooves had met Hurricanes barrel, the gray had already been pushing himself forward. Hurricane launches into him, his powerful wings unfurling. Warship snorts and flings his head slightly, trying hard to get his front feet back onto the ground. They are almost there when the tundra man crashes into the back half of his barrel, near his flank. The generals breath catches in his throat, and he is thrown slightly off balance and as such staggers to his own right somewhat, though he doesn’t go down completely. Thankfully he was of Mountain Pony, Mustang, and Arabian heritage, and it is that surefootedness that keeps him from crashing into the earth. He is also well seasoned in battle, and his muscles are kept at their peak potential. But he does not escaped unscathed, despite the victory in keeping his feet beneath him. Immediately the area hit is sore and quickly bruising, and his flank screams in protest at his rapid breathing. But the battle must go on, and he’s given little time to think about his injury and Hurricane moves quickly into his next assault. Smart man.
Almost immediately the other stallion is executing his next attack. It comes in the form of a violent buck, with both hind hooves flying at the generals rump. The black stallion hesitates only for a moment before returning the favor and countering the grays double-barrel kick with one of his own. This wasn’t necessarily the best thought out plan, but he was left with few options. It can be assumed that Hurricane’s hooves would be a split second higher than Warships, given that he kicked out first. The downside to Warship returning the same attack was that their legs could tangle, sending both to the ground. The upside is that his own hooves could find their way to the hocks, the stifle, or the backside of the gaskin. Any hit there would certainly sting, and if it met a muscle or tendon, they would most certainly tighten and be strained throughout the remainder of the battle. Fortunately, these were relatively small places to hit, so the chance of escape was a great one. Warship himself is not so lucky, and he winces as one of Hurricanes hooves meets the inside of his left hock. As a bony point, its immediately sore, and Warship knows that he is missing a skiff of hair and blood is oozing from his scratched skin. Thankfully the battle is drawing to a close, so its just a matter of pushing the pain from his mind for one more attack.
Almost as quickly as the attack had came, Hurricane has disappeared. Warship is momentarily confused, but it passes quickly. The battle must go on, even if the other battler has apparently left the building. Instead of dwelling he wheels to the right (his right), taking the pressure from his sore left hock. It is not perhaps the fastest spin, and it is maybe somewhat sloppy in its execution given his battered body, but he goes with it nonetheless. When he’s facing where Hurricane last was, and the vicinity Warship assumes he is still in, the general rears once more. But it is not a high rear, and only last for a moment. It is more to serve the purpose of launching himself forward and in the direction where he hopes Hurricane is. Since he doesn’t know exactly where the gray stallion is, he lowers his head and stiffens his neck, intending to use the base of them as a possible battering ram. While its unlikely Hurricane would stand stock still and let Warship hit him head on, if for some reason he couldn’t get out of the way then a concussion could certainly result. A concussion in a wild horse would be very serious, compromising the entire process that keeps a wild horse from becoming something else’s dinner. In the event that his head doesn’t meet anything, then there’s always the possibility his muscular chest could. He is a well-built stallion, higher than 15 hands but with thick musculature typical of his wild horse heritage. Given that he had propelled himself with his strong, sturdy back legs, any place on the other stallion he could crash into would certainly be felt. In the wild horses used each and every inch of their bodies when it battle, throwing themselves at one another like freight trains hitting head on. Thankfully the chest was protected in layers of muscle, so the chances of Warship hurting himself with this attack were slim. Bruises, perhaps, and possibly some swelling, but nothing at all detrimental. He’s hoping that he is horizontal to Hurricane being vertical, thus making a “T”. That would put him slamming to Hurricanes barrel, hopefully on the same side that he’d hit earlier with his hooves. But the general isn’t picky. Either side, he could possibly knock the winged stallion off balance, breaking his confidence throughout the rest of the battle. Warships broad chest over a broad area of ribs could certainly be painful, though definitely not crippling or anything of the sort. Breathing would be a little difficult, but there was no chance of breaks or even cracks. When the generals front feet had hit the hard-packed earth once more, he used his momentum and cantered forward. Since his part of the battle was done, he certainly wasn’t going to stand around and leave himself a sitting duck.
<p class="name">warship</p></p><img class="image" src="http://i1383.photobucket.com/albums/ah311/broken3989/warship_zps46q2u5th.gif"></div></center>
The battle was waged and their proverbial horns were locked. Neither stallion was conceding anything to the other, and Warship found himself thriving on it. There was none of the silly circling and running; fairly evenly matched, keeping the battle high and tight. A light sheen of sweat made his coat shine blue-black, and his nostrils were moist and bright pink. The sky was still rumbling threateningly, and Warship could feel the electricity crackling in the air. Yes, it was a good day for battle.
He felt the moment his horns met skin, soon to be followed by the sweet copper scent of blood that permeated the air. Though it wasn’t a deadly injury by any stretch, it probably stung and Warship hoped it would serve as a distraction to Hurricane if nothing else. He had moved quickly into his next attack, and he was pleased to feel meat and muscle beneath his hooves. Again not a devastating injury, or even a hindering one, but it was a homerun nonetheless. But there’s little time to rejoice in his victories, for the speed of the battle was one of epic proportions. When Warships hooves had met Hurricanes barrel, the gray had already been pushing himself forward. Hurricane launches into him, his powerful wings unfurling. Warship snorts and flings his head slightly, trying hard to get his front feet back onto the ground. They are almost there when the tundra man crashes into the back half of his barrel, near his flank. The generals breath catches in his throat, and he is thrown slightly off balance and as such staggers to his own right somewhat, though he doesn’t go down completely. Thankfully he was of Mountain Pony, Mustang, and Arabian heritage, and it is that surefootedness that keeps him from crashing into the earth. He is also well seasoned in battle, and his muscles are kept at their peak potential. But he does not escaped unscathed, despite the victory in keeping his feet beneath him. Immediately the area hit is sore and quickly bruising, and his flank screams in protest at his rapid breathing. But the battle must go on, and he’s given little time to think about his injury and Hurricane moves quickly into his next assault. Smart man.
Almost immediately the other stallion is executing his next attack. It comes in the form of a violent buck, with both hind hooves flying at the generals rump. The black stallion hesitates only for a moment before returning the favor and countering the grays double-barrel kick with one of his own. This wasn’t necessarily the best thought out plan, but he was left with few options. It can be assumed that Hurricane’s hooves would be a split second higher than Warships, given that he kicked out first. The downside to Warship returning the same attack was that their legs could tangle, sending both to the ground. The upside is that his own hooves could find their way to the hocks, the stifle, or the backside of the gaskin. Any hit there would certainly sting, and if it met a muscle or tendon, they would most certainly tighten and be strained throughout the remainder of the battle. Fortunately, these were relatively small places to hit, so the chance of escape was a great one. Warship himself is not so lucky, and he winces as one of Hurricanes hooves meets the inside of his left hock. As a bony point, its immediately sore, and Warship knows that he is missing a skiff of hair and blood is oozing from his scratched skin. Thankfully the battle is drawing to a close, so its just a matter of pushing the pain from his mind for one more attack.
Almost as quickly as the attack had came, Hurricane has disappeared. Warship is momentarily confused, but it passes quickly. The battle must go on, even if the other battler has apparently left the building. Instead of dwelling he wheels to the right (his right), taking the pressure from his sore left hock. It is not perhaps the fastest spin, and it is maybe somewhat sloppy in its execution given his battered body, but he goes with it nonetheless. When he’s facing where Hurricane last was, and the vicinity Warship assumes he is still in, the general rears once more. But it is not a high rear, and only last for a moment. It is more to serve the purpose of launching himself forward and in the direction where he hopes Hurricane is. Since he doesn’t know exactly where the gray stallion is, he lowers his head and stiffens his neck, intending to use the base of them as a possible battering ram. While its unlikely Hurricane would stand stock still and let Warship hit him head on, if for some reason he couldn’t get out of the way then a concussion could certainly result. A concussion in a wild horse would be very serious, compromising the entire process that keeps a wild horse from becoming something else’s dinner. In the event that his head doesn’t meet anything, then there’s always the possibility his muscular chest could. He is a well-built stallion, higher than 15 hands but with thick musculature typical of his wild horse heritage. Given that he had propelled himself with his strong, sturdy back legs, any place on the other stallion he could crash into would certainly be felt. In the wild horses used each and every inch of their bodies when it battle, throwing themselves at one another like freight trains hitting head on. Thankfully the chest was protected in layers of muscle, so the chances of Warship hurting himself with this attack were slim. Bruises, perhaps, and possibly some swelling, but nothing at all detrimental. He’s hoping that he is horizontal to Hurricane being vertical, thus making a “T”. That would put him slamming to Hurricanes barrel, hopefully on the same side that he’d hit earlier with his hooves. But the general isn’t picky. Either side, he could possibly knock the winged stallion off balance, breaking his confidence throughout the rest of the battle. Warships broad chest over a broad area of ribs could certainly be painful, though definitely not crippling or anything of the sort. Breathing would be a little difficult, but there was no chance of breaks or even cracks. When the generals front feet had hit the hard-packed earth once more, he used his momentum and cantered forward. Since his part of the battle was done, he certainly wasn’t going to stand around and leave himself a sitting duck.
<p class="name">warship</p></p><img class="image" src="http://i1383.photobucket.com/albums/ah311/broken3989/warship_zps46q2u5th.gif"></div></center>