06-03-2016, 01:47 AM
<link href='https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Satisfy|Raleway:400,300,200' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><style type="text/css">.azaelback{position: relative;z-index: 5;width: 388px;height: 680px;box-shadow: 0 0 8px #000;background: url('http://i.imgur.com/yp0cmcW.png');padding-top: 20px;}.azaelwords{position: relative;z-index: 12;width: 240px;background: rgba(255,255,255,0.2);height: 250px;padding: 16px;font: 11px 'Raleway', sans-serif;color: #fff;overflow: auto;text-align: left;}.azaelwords::-webkit-scrollbar{width:1px;background:transparent;}.azaelname{position: relative;z-index: 16;font: 40px 'Satisfy', cursive;color: #000;text-align: left;padding-left: 30px;margin-top: 10px;text-shadow: 0 0 0.2em #fff;}.azaelquote{position: relative;z-index: 18;color: #bcf5fe;font: 18px 'Satisfy', cursive;font-style: italic;text-align: center;margin-top:300px;margin-bottom: -5px;}</style><center><div class="azaelbase"><div class="azaelback"><div class="azaelquote">i feel it running through my veins</div><div class="azaelwords">Chaos.
But such is the nature of these encounters, these shows of strength and cunning, these displays of split second decisions, of strategies formed in the span of a thundering heartbeat and dashed just as quickly.
Such a dashing Azael himself experienced when his opponent reared and the dappled stag was suddenly presented with a flash of flinty hooves in his face, threatening his precious eyesight. No. That was one risk he was not willing to take.
And so it was that the grey wraith shied away, head ducking, his great frame thrown into a swift reverse. But it wasn't swift enough, for the painted stag was still able to lunge forward. He was still able to clench his teeth downward on that sensitive bit of flesh - Azael's left ear. And then he began to shake, like some sort of lowborn cur.
Pain.
It ripped through his body - an insatiable wildfire tearing through his form, devouring all sense and all reason for the span of a single moment.
And then there was only anger. A pure, icy anger burning with all the chill of the season's first frost. It filled him. It consumed him, until there was nothing, nothing but that very moment. Nothing but Chem. The acute agony in his ear was little more than a dull ache, easily forgotten. The heated trickle of blood staining his silvered cheek was soon to be yet another memory of battles past.
Thus filled with renewed purpose, thus narrowed with a frigid focus, Azael threw his entire body into motion. A forward motion - a motion meant to hopefully throw his opponent off-balance and inspire a disengage. With all of his might, he pressed, ignoring the burn of his straining muscles, ignoring the throb of his injuries. Using his body as a battering ram of sorts in this way, he flung himself wholeheartedly into the action, unable to divide his attention for any other purpose besides simply pressing, pressing, pressing, pressing.
He would gladly drive Chem into the very depths of oblivion if he had to. Or until his own body gave out and he collapsed onto the dusty earth beneath them.
Whichever came first.
</div><div class="azaelname">Azael</div></div></center>
Azael
Six years old
Andalusian
16.2hh
Dappled grey with black points
No traits
Summary:
But such is the nature of these encounters, these shows of strength and cunning, these displays of split second decisions, of strategies formed in the span of a thundering heartbeat and dashed just as quickly.
Such a dashing Azael himself experienced when his opponent reared and the dappled stag was suddenly presented with a flash of flinty hooves in his face, threatening his precious eyesight. No. That was one risk he was not willing to take.
And so it was that the grey wraith shied away, head ducking, his great frame thrown into a swift reverse. But it wasn't swift enough, for the painted stag was still able to lunge forward. He was still able to clench his teeth downward on that sensitive bit of flesh - Azael's left ear. And then he began to shake, like some sort of lowborn cur.
Pain.
It ripped through his body - an insatiable wildfire tearing through his form, devouring all sense and all reason for the span of a single moment.
And then there was only anger. A pure, icy anger burning with all the chill of the season's first frost. It filled him. It consumed him, until there was nothing, nothing but that very moment. Nothing but Chem. The acute agony in his ear was little more than a dull ache, easily forgotten. The heated trickle of blood staining his silvered cheek was soon to be yet another memory of battles past.
Thus filled with renewed purpose, thus narrowed with a frigid focus, Azael threw his entire body into motion. A forward motion - a motion meant to hopefully throw his opponent off-balance and inspire a disengage. With all of his might, he pressed, ignoring the burn of his straining muscles, ignoring the throb of his injuries. Using his body as a battering ram of sorts in this way, he flung himself wholeheartedly into the action, unable to divide his attention for any other purpose besides simply pressing, pressing, pressing, pressing.
He would gladly drive Chem into the very depths of oblivion if he had to. Or until his own body gave out and he collapsed onto the dusty earth beneath them.
Whichever came first.
</div><div class="azaelname">Azael</div></div></center>
Azael
Six years old
Andalusian
16.2hh
Dappled grey with black points
No traits
Summary:
- Defense 1: Azael, predictably, ducks his head and tries to back away in order to avoid the blow.
- Chem is successful in getting a hold of his left ear and shaking.
- Attack 1 & 2: Instead of dividing his remaining strength between two separate attacks, Azael simply throws his all into pushing himself into Chem in an attempt to throw the other off-balance and encourage a disengage.
- He has a patch of flesh ripped from his stomach, bleeding.
- His left ear is ripped, bleeding.