"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
Here are the rules. If you do not agree on them, message me and we will work it over.
- 3 posts each
- No more than 600 words per post
- traits are allowed if you wish
- I have no preference for time limit, but let's try to not make there be a week or so in-between posts
- Either of us can go first. If you'd like me to go first, post here or message me
Raxa's Stats:
- 6 years old
- No traits
- 15.2 hands
- Red-roan brindled QH
It was time once again. The blood of the warrior stirred within the brindled mare, striking up the desire to fight once again. She was already lurking near the combat grounds, having the urge to battle for quite some time. However, it had only been today that the urge took over, stimulating the mare to want to stir up another fight. So, full gallop, she'd headed for the combat grounds, eager to see who was lurking in the area and ready for a fight.
Once Raxa arrived, the brindled mare skidded to a halt, throwing her weight onto her hind legs and rearing into the air. She thrashed out with her front legs, letting out an ear-piercing neigh, the call quite obvious to any who were listening.
It was a call to fight; a summons to any horse that wished to let out their inner warrior and fight another horse. Raxa was quite willing to fight, no matter what the outcome was. She enjoyed practicing her skills, engaging in these mock battles so she could become a better warrior. So, here she waited, stomping her hooves on the ground as her blue eyes scanned the battlefield, eager to see who it was she would be battling with.
There's a song in your lung and a dream in your eye.
She is out of practice. Her skills had grown rusty with disuse, but she is determined to flake that rust away, to oil them until they shine with renewed vigor. So she makes her way to the practice field.
There she finds a mare, Raxa, and she takes her up on her challenge. She makes no big display, only nodding her head briefly in acknowledgement. Her body - red and white and covered by cracks that flicker with slow pulses of white light - is relaxed, movements light and fluid in the way of one who is familiar with her body. Golden eyes focused and intense, she studies her opponent. They are of a similar height, though the other mare is slightly taller. In terms of strength and agility, they would seem to be fairly evenly matched.
This then would be a battle determined by skill.
Facing her opponent, Joscelin does not hesitate in her attack. Leaping forward from her position only several feet in front of Raxa, Joscelin strikes swiftly. Using her powerful hindquarters, she launches forward and slightly to her right. Her pale forelegs come off the ground, blunt hooves aiming a sharp strike for her opponent's left shoulder. Ideally she would clip the exposed bony protrusion of her shoulder point. A bone bruise could significantly impact the other’s ability to move. Of course, Raxa would no doubt move in an attempt to avoid the blow, potentially shifting her strike to either the meatier portion of her shoulder or her chest. Alternately, she could retreat, lessening the blow. Still, injury to any part of the shoulder could be detrimental, especially when considering the fact that the majority of a horse's weight is carried on their forehand.
She would take what she can get.
Attack completed, she drops quickly back to the earth, using her momentum and backwards shifted weight to perform a pivot on her hindquarters to her right and away from Raxa.
Joscelin
Tiphon x Elysteria
html c insane | picture c mikanicole.deviantart.com
Raxa's nostrils flared as the wind carried a scent toward her. There was another horse here... a mare... one who was ready to accept the challenge of the brindled warrior. Raxa turned her head, facing to her left, and there she saw her opponent. A mare of roughly her height, if not slightly shorter. Her coat was a unique red and white, and for a moment, Raxa could've sworn she saw something moving on the mare's pelt. Something... strange... unnatural...
Whatever it was, Raxa could handle it. The mare had been in a number of odd situations since coming to this land. Sure, there had been a number of changes recently, and it set her teeth on edge, but it wouldn't deter her. Raxa had a duty to her kingdom: to improve her skills on the battlefield and become an ever better warrior to help protect her home. She'd be damned if something happened to the Falls and she couldn't do anything to help.
So, it was time. Assessing her opponent again, Raxa took a moment to formulate what she would do. This mare probably had some hidden strength within her, but if she chose not to use it, this fight would be resolved by who had more skill and speed of mind. Who had the more powerful strike, and the strategy behind it to help win the fight.
Raxa knew not to underestimate her opponents. She'd done that once before, and it had only gotten had a nasty kick to the chest that had knocked the wind clear out of her.
The challenger lurched forward from her standing place a couple feet away from Raxa. The brindled mare's electric blue eyes watched carefully, looking for how the mare handled herself. She held confidence in her movements, and her limbs moved with cat-like fluidity. Something not common in all horses, only ones familiar with battle and who knew how to handle themselves.
Yes, this would be an interesting fight indeed. The mare moved off to the right a little as she came at Raxa, and the brindled mare reared up two dozen or so inches, her front legs kicking out a bit to keep the mare back. The movement to the right gave the challenger a bit of an advantage, for Raxa had been preparing herself for a kick from the hindquarters. Once again, she'd messed up, but not heavily. This kind of trick she'd been faced with before.
She couldn't avoid the blow completely; it'd come too fast, for the strength behind the blow of a horse's hind legs was striking. So, instead, the brindled mare had another plan. It was obvious where she was aiming; maybe Raxa could use that?
The mare turned a bit, the blow landing on her shoulder. It had struck near the edge of the portion covered by a mass of muscle and skin, enough so that it would give Raxa the pain she needed to convince the mare it had hurt more than it looked like. Raxa faltered some, taking the weight off of her front leg corresponding with the wounded shoulder. She watched the challenger shifting to her right in an effort to get away before a blow could be struck.
Typical; landing an attack, then moving away in an effort to avoid getting hurt. Raxa was no such mare; she would not move away unless she'd suffered a serious injury, and even then, she'd do her best to remain in the fight without having to retreat.
Raxa's ears flattened against her skull as she let out an angry squeal. She lunged at the challenger mare, going up on her hind legs as she did so. As her front legs started coming down, in an effort to block the mare from coming back up at her in the same fashion, Raxa aimed her teeth for the mare's neck. She'd performed this many times before, knowing it was normally a successful move. Even if the challenger tried to move out of the way, normally, the bite just landed somewhere else.
So, either way, a win-win situation, no matter how much damage it caused.
There's a song in your lung and a dream in your eye.
She had missed this, the heat of battle. It fires her blood in a way little else ever could. With her first attack successfully landed, she turns to retreat. But it is a mistake to believe such a retreat a sign of weakness. She is accustomed to fighting opponents larger than herself, and when one is on the smaller side, one must fight smarter, not harder. In a contest of strength, there are few she could truly hope to compete with. While it is true that physically, the other mare is quite similar to her, she would not change a tried and true method for so paltry a reason.
Let her opponent wear herself out with unnecessary brute force. She could wait, could play the defensive, and strike when opportunity presents itself.
Raxa does not seem terribly inclined to let her simply move away. Instead she follows her. Though her shoulder appears to be somewhat painful, her retaliatory strike is swift and sure. Joscelin can feel the mare brush past her left side, the angry squeal ringing in her ears. She catches the blur of her opponent lunging, the gnashing of blunt teeth. Ducking her head down and slightly to the right, she throws her weight onto her forehand.
The roan mare had inadvertently offered Joscelin the perfect counter-attack in her haste to keep Joscelin from escaping. Even as she feels the scrape of teeth against flesh, the sharp sting of hair being ripped from skin, she is throwing back her hind legs in a powerful buck. With her shift in weight, she had managed to aim her rear legs at the other mare’s right haunch, albeit at a rather sharp angle. Her target is the exposed stifle, an area that, if hit, could hinder foreword movement quite significantly. Still, even should her aim not be precise, she has a good chance of hitting either Raxa’s flank or sensitive underbelly. A hit to either one of these locations could have quite a significant impact on her ability to execute future attacks. Should her kick land well enough, she might even cause internal damage, something sure to win her this fight.
As her hooves fall back to earth, Joscelin leaps forward, using her ability to fly in order to make a clean getaway. Landing with a thump nearly twenty feet away, she turns to face her opponent, golden gaze glittering. The muscling of her neck throbs, the scrape (and no doubt bruising soon enough) near the base making its presence known. But, while painful, it is only a flesh wound, the thin layer of blood it had released already drying against her skin.
She is done playing offense though. This time, she would make her opponent come to her.
Joscelin
Tiphon x Elysteria
html c insane | picture c mikanicole.deviantart.com
I'm so sorry for the delay. My computer died while I was writing the post before and I ended up having to write the whole thing again D':
Raxa snorted as the mare managed to move away a bit, angry that her attack hadn't hit the key mark. Instead, the weight had been shifted, so that the mare was on her front legs, balancing the mass of her body.
Oh damn, she knew what was coming next. While Raxa herself was a fast horse, it did nothing to help her escape from the kicking power of a horse's hind legs. The challenger aimed carefully, lashing out with her hind hooves with the most possible force she could offer. Raxa probably outweighed the mare by a number of pounds, considering that she was taller and more muscled due to her training, but that didn't mean this wouldn't hurt.
Pain exploded in Raxa's right side as the challenger's hooves struck her flank. The mare limped a bit as the challenger paced away, unfolding the wings on her back and gaining some height. From her distance a good ways away, the mare eyed Raxa, something the brindle did in return. Now she was beyond angry.
From Raxa's place, the mare limped a couple more steps, assessing the damage. No doubt she would have some internal bruising, but she'd recover in time. Now, the problem was this: how was she going to get near the other mare while suffering a limp like that?
She'd dealt with worse before. No matter, she'd make of the situation what she could. Picking up a walking pace, rasa worked through the trot and the canter, charging the mare as fast as she could go. Once she was within reach, she performed the same maneuver the challenger did. Knowing her hind leg couldn't take the weight of her body, she resorted to using a buck to hit the mare, figuring she'd have a better chance that way rather than trying to balance her weight on one good hind leg.
There's a song in your lung and a dream in your eye.
Her escape had been successful, forcing her opponent to take up the offensive. As she eyes the brindled mare with eyes of burnished gold, she assesses the damage her opponent had taken. A sore shoulder and an injured flank, both of which would no doubt hamper any future attacks the mare is likely to make. It is a weakness she could use to her advantage.
She is injured herself, but not so much so as to prevent her from successfully performing a counter attack against whatever Raxa should choose to come at her with. Her neck throbs, but it is easy enough to ignore. With the adrenaline coursing through her veins, focus comes easy, her sight fixed unerringly on her opponent, watching for the subtle cues that would foreshadow the attack to come. As the mare picks up the trot, followed swiftly by a canter, arcing around to come at her, Joscelin’s gleaming gaze follows her.
Certainly she could have moved, could have cantered or flown away, forcing the other mare to follow, but she does not. Instead she lets the attack come. With her injured flank, Raxa makes the wise (and obvious) choice for avoiding placing more weight on her hindquarters than necessary. Which means her attack comes in the form of a buck. There is no surprise in the maneuver, no need for guessing, giving Joscelin plenty of time to formulate a counter.
Raxa mimics Joscelin’s previous attack, but while the other mare’s weight had been shifted and compromised, Joscelin’s is squared, prepared for any eventuality. As the other mare’s hind limbs fly backwards, Joscelin digs in her hind legs, pushing forwards and sideways into the mare. The movement would serve to not only lessen the force of the blow, but to push Joscelin’s weight into her opponents shifted and compromised stance. With her weight thrown onto her forehand, Raxa is off balance, making much easier for Joscelin in her attempt to push her of balance, and, with luck, knock her over. Using the full bulk of weight with the added momentum of her hind legs pushing forcefully, she plows into her opponent. Raxa’s hooves slam into her barrel, she feels the thud, the creak and sudden sharp pain of a rib fracturing, the whoosh of breath as it leaves her lungs, but she is already committed to her attack.
She allows her momentum to carry her forward, allows her from feet to catch her with a painful thud and a sharp intake of sorely needed breath. But her gaze never leaves her opponent, following her in whatever trajectory her attack had propelled her.
Joscelin
Tiphon x Elysteria
html c insane | picture c mikanicole.deviantart.com
