05-28-2016, 12:02 PM
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Squeals and grunts. Thick clouds of dust swirling under a rising, burning sun. The sound of their bodies gasping, thrashing, laughing and tearing at the earth's flesh (and each others) echoes of the distance stone mountains beyond. The landscape watches them crash and wrestle, bite and kick – the trees seem to whisper as the breeze weaves through them. They encourage so sweetly with their voices, their soft song, their melodic war chant. Chemdog hears them, he feels them. Their energy feeds his energy. Well, that and the metallic taste of blood as it's drawn from his spar partner running over his tongue.
His chest feels caved, bruised, a little worse than he had arrogantly predicted before. It's harder to breath then before, even with the surge of adrenaline and the coaxing of the wind. His body wields cuts everywhere, ones he hadn't felt before and now winces at the sting of them as he tries to keep himself on his feet when the first collision happens. Balance is among the most important things in battle, he was once taught. <i>Don't fall. Never fall.</i> This triggers an instinct to first rock back from the force, to give way a small bit and then dive [front]hooves first for the stallion's rib-cage before he can rise onto all fours again. He shouldn't have fell. <i>Never lose balance.</i> Archam doesn't stay down long and even Chem cannot tell if his plunge with those big feet into his tender rib-cage even phased him. He hopes to have cracked a few of the hind, more fragile ribs, nothing life threatening. Chemdog gives a spirited rear, head bobbing and front legs striking out as if lethally wounding the empty air in front of him. He invites the stallion to charge – he can tell by the roan's posture, the language of his body, that he plans to charge with full force. Chemdog grins, the rest of his expression hidden beneath a veil of spiraling black forelock. He paws the ground and prepares himself for the second collision, which happens much quicker than he anticipates.
Smack.
At the last moment Chemdog takes a step back a few steps. He intended to avoid the crash but Archam's speed proves greater than predicted and his weight clips Chem's broad black shoulder. He rears and flings hooves and a few snapping bites to his enemy as he's forcefully pivoted with the strike of Archam's big body against his own. That one is going to hurt for quite some time – maybe even give him a permanent limp in his left shoulder. His defense is attempting a bite or a nice punch in the cheek with those boulder hooves, but really, they both know it's over now. Chem stands on all fours, head low, lungs bursting as his nostrils suck in all that they're capable of. Blood stains the torn turf at their feet and the swirls of dust begin to settle back down to the ground as they take a moment of silence to recover and bask in their respective positions – victor and defeated.
<b>Summary:</b> His defense attack is trying to crack some ribs just before Archam found his feet again. His tiny little not-so-accurate defense his a bite or a punch with a front hoof. Could be easily dodged. He's sore and exhausted. He's got cuts and bruises all over, breathing will be painful for a while due to minor swelling sore mouth and a badly bruised shoulder that may pain him forever if he doesn't find a healer. <b>– Words: 515 – Third and Final Post</b>
<3
<center><div id="imjustalittleunwell">chemdog</div><div style="font-style: italic; letter-spacing: 1px;">astra inclinant, sed non obligant.</div></center></div></div></center>
that was actrually quite fun we should totally keep their pissing match going forever and ever lol
very good job by the way! i won't be surprised at all if Archie is victorious! Good fight (:
Squeals and grunts. Thick clouds of dust swirling under a rising, burning sun. The sound of their bodies gasping, thrashing, laughing and tearing at the earth's flesh (and each others) echoes of the distance stone mountains beyond. The landscape watches them crash and wrestle, bite and kick – the trees seem to whisper as the breeze weaves through them. They encourage so sweetly with their voices, their soft song, their melodic war chant. Chemdog hears them, he feels them. Their energy feeds his energy. Well, that and the metallic taste of blood as it's drawn from his spar partner running over his tongue.
His chest feels caved, bruised, a little worse than he had arrogantly predicted before. It's harder to breath then before, even with the surge of adrenaline and the coaxing of the wind. His body wields cuts everywhere, ones he hadn't felt before and now winces at the sting of them as he tries to keep himself on his feet when the first collision happens. Balance is among the most important things in battle, he was once taught. <i>Don't fall. Never fall.</i> This triggers an instinct to first rock back from the force, to give way a small bit and then dive [front]hooves first for the stallion's rib-cage before he can rise onto all fours again. He shouldn't have fell. <i>Never lose balance.</i> Archam doesn't stay down long and even Chem cannot tell if his plunge with those big feet into his tender rib-cage even phased him. He hopes to have cracked a few of the hind, more fragile ribs, nothing life threatening. Chemdog gives a spirited rear, head bobbing and front legs striking out as if lethally wounding the empty air in front of him. He invites the stallion to charge – he can tell by the roan's posture, the language of his body, that he plans to charge with full force. Chemdog grins, the rest of his expression hidden beneath a veil of spiraling black forelock. He paws the ground and prepares himself for the second collision, which happens much quicker than he anticipates.
Smack.
At the last moment Chemdog takes a step back a few steps. He intended to avoid the crash but Archam's speed proves greater than predicted and his weight clips Chem's broad black shoulder. He rears and flings hooves and a few snapping bites to his enemy as he's forcefully pivoted with the strike of Archam's big body against his own. That one is going to hurt for quite some time – maybe even give him a permanent limp in his left shoulder. His defense is attempting a bite or a nice punch in the cheek with those boulder hooves, but really, they both know it's over now. Chem stands on all fours, head low, lungs bursting as his nostrils suck in all that they're capable of. Blood stains the torn turf at their feet and the swirls of dust begin to settle back down to the ground as they take a moment of silence to recover and bask in their respective positions – victor and defeated.
<b>Summary:</b> His defense attack is trying to crack some ribs just before Archam found his feet again. His tiny little not-so-accurate defense his a bite or a punch with a front hoof. Could be easily dodged. He's sore and exhausted. He's got cuts and bruises all over, breathing will be painful for a while due to minor swelling sore mouth and a badly bruised shoulder that may pain him forever if he doesn't find a healer. <b>– Words: 515 – Third and Final Post</b>
<3
<center><div id="imjustalittleunwell">chemdog</div><div style="font-style: italic; letter-spacing: 1px;">astra inclinant, sed non obligant.</div></center></div></div></center>
that was actrually quite fun we should totally keep their pissing match going forever and ever lol
very good job by the way! i won't be surprised at all if Archie is victorious! Good fight (:
