mock anyone?

[Phaedrus]

He steps onto the open land. Bones, and twigs snapping underfoot. He makes his way across the plains reminesing the histories of beqanna, the lives given to preserve or change the ages and ideals set in the minds of the lands residents. Its along the edge he trots, warming his muscles, edgy with anticipation. His nostrils spread wide searching for the scent of fresh blood. his ears flicking forward and back searching for the cry of challenge.

He could hear the thundering hooves of warriors past, the deep grooves scarring the land. The craters of clashed bodies leaving the stories of fallen warriors. the call carries across the thin air. The heavy thud of hooves digging into the ground making their valiant stand. He is near, it is time, the stallion is close.

His eyes light up, the adrenaline coursing through his body. His wings stretch out, he picks up his pace rolling the muscles in his wings to create a gust of wind. Grasses flatten in his wake. Dirt rises, dry as the bones sprawling on the land. Taking off his mane and tail stream behind him bannering his silent entrance. No longer did the shade hide him, no longer did the trees cluster around him. Left in the open, his pools glint in the sunlight that he is charging towards.

He watches the grounds waiting for the speck of a horse to appear. The steed finally rising in his vision. Training his attention towards the warrior he pauses for a moment. Ears flick around calculating, he only has a moment. He hopes that he has the eliment of suprise. Hopes that she won't see his approach.

Even so with so many variables he finds that he still has a trick up his sleeve. Though its with great disappointment that he finds this would be his only oportunity to use it. He begins working his wings, dragging his heavy body through the air. Tearing his mane in the wind. Climbing up, fighting gravityuntil he peaks. Finally he is dirrectin the light of the sun, having circled once attempting to force her to look into the blinding 11am rays. Its in the light he begins to dive his way towards her. A black shadow warping into what could appear to be a raven if not for the strange tail and mane that whipped off his neck and hind quarters.

Tucking his wings he wraps his legs tight agianst his body. Stretching his neck forward the steed appears as a black bullet, stretching his neck out he continues to stretch it past the natural limits of a horse. Speeding his way to the other he continues to stretch his neck lengthening it with each minute that passes. Finally at what he judges must be the right timing of roughly fifteen feet away, he lashes out to right. His neck making up the distance between their bodies.

Swinging his head wide to snake its way to her body his teeth snap yawning for flesh, his head having aimed for her whithers. He continues to hold his body tight to itself, following up with the immediate attack of plummeting himself against her body.

He knew that she could easily lash out at him and do some damage, it was an unavoidable dissapointment. But because of the lucrid of his body there would be nothing but sore muscles and bruises to deal with later. Something he viewed as a consequence of battle.

If she dodged his first attack then it would offset her balance making his second attack quite effective, but if she stood and took the first attack he would have a strong grip making it simple to reel in his neck and lurch his momentum towards her more dirrectly.

Or she could easily run away, but then again he doubted that someone asking for a challenge would run from the fight when it came. If she did well then that makes it simple for him. He still had a moment to unfurl the wings and land without taking to much damage if she chose to do so.

Phaedrus

DEATH GIVES US SLEEP, ETERNAL YOUTH, AND IMMORTALITY