[private] Boy of Fire [Warrick]

[Warrick]

we are crooked souls trying to stay up straight

Having no abilities of his own (save for the grand plumage that cascades from his withers), Warrick is more than interested to see the depths of Phoebus’ ability. He found it poetic that the young stallion has been given a token of fire in the kingdom of the volcano, just as Amorette had been given healing in the way of the flames and smoke. The Overseer watches plainly as Phoebus turns off the armor, nodding with intrigue as the roan starts it up again. The temperature easily and quickly escalates, and suddenly Warrick is reminded of the volcano itself, where the spewing magma drips from the very top of its epicenter. The bay stallion even goes so much as to take a step back, wary at the sudden amount of heat and flames rising from Phoebus’ armor. Warrick smiles, nodding in agreement as he takes a step closer, inspecting the stallion’s shoulder with a curious gaze. “It’s good. A solid defense is more important than any attack. Use it, protect yourself.” He thinks back to his battles in the alliance, and how Kagerus’ antlers had pierced into his supple flesh with ease. Armor - especially one of fire - would have kept her from doing so.

Warrick snorts and lifts his head, curving his neck slightly in a poised manner. He paws the earth beneath them, rich with spring rain and nutrients, damp beneath his hooves. “You must become comfortable with your body, with or without your armor. If you are not agile - too slow or hesitant, it will be your downfall.” The stallion takes a giant, sweeping step backwards, lowering his head slightly. It is a good distraction, giving Phoebus little tips and tricks he has learned from his days in the plains, and it is a distraction he is thankful for. Warrick snorts sharply, pressing his chin to his chest and finds adrenaline coursing through his veins.

The only way to truly learn, is to learn it yourself.

The Overseer does not hesitate to lunge at Phoebus, even with the fire of his armor glowing brightly. He rears up, but does not attempt to strike with his front hooves. He slams down on his forelegs, pivots, and kicks out with his hind end in a buck. He does not kick with full force nor is he really attempting to make any contact - the lesson here is to be prepared, to be ready, to be one step ahead. Warrick leaps forward once his legs touch the ground, whirling to face Phoebus with a breathless smile while the ends of his tail blossom in billows of smoke from where they had traced his armor.

“Never let down your guard.”

Warrick

@[Phoebus]
I didn't plan on this becoming a 'training' mock, but it did anyway! Phoebus can take the hit or not, it doesn't matter. Just two boys practicing together. :3