[private] Nothing burns like the cold - Skel - mock

[Skeleton Ghoul]

Finally, someone took him up on his challenge.

It isn't someone that Skeleton Ghoul is familiar with, but he isn't very worried about it. As a generally antisocial stallion, there will always be far more unknowns than otherwise -- he's been in Taiga for something like two years and he STILL doesn't know everyone. Skel isn't even sure he knows who the leader is. Is it Lethy or Elio? Oh, who cares.

Maybe one day it will be him. The massive stud won't admit it out loud, but that niggling little thought twitching at the very back of his mind had a significant amount of influence on his decision to start mock fighting. He needs practice, to bang the rust out of his joints and to knock the ice off of his bones if he is ever going to challenge for and take over Tiaga. It isn't that he has anything against whoever is the current leader ... but the fact that it seems to be up in the air so much bothers him. With Skeleton Ghoul at the head, and constantly within the territory borders, who rules the Land of Giants would never be called into question.

So he goes. There is a clearing, one rare break in the canopy that allows the sun to beam down all the way to the wet, sticky ground. The grass grows here, and the soil is drier than in other places, making a slip not impossible, but less likely. It's a mock, after all. No need to make the environment harder on them than it needs to be, at least not while he's still getting the kinks out. Later on, though, practice fights in horrendous terrain would be a fantastic challenge.

Skeleton Ghoul isn't a stranger to battle. In his youth, he spent years doing nothing but clashing with fellow warriors in mocks, real challenges, and even tournaments. The thirteen (fourteen? fifteen? does he even know anymore?) year old man easily spent seven of his younger years in constant fights, but that was an age ago, wasn't it?

He makes it to the clearing after a long, purposeful march, muscles warmed and heart pumping just a little faster. The titan doesn't have to wait long -- his opponent is hot on his heels, and appears out of the fog.

Skeleton Ghoul's empty white gaze studies the other man. He's a little shorter, a little lighter, which means he will be faster and more agile. Leilan is a roany thing, but he's also covered in fine, shiny scales and what appears to be a bit of frost -- very interesting. Skel has never fought someone with scales before, and he wonders if his teeth will pierce the other's hide. His head hangs low, as though it's too heavy for his neck to support as he simply watches Leilan warm up.

Then he moves.

Skeleton Ghoul's heart pounds, adrenaline pouring into his veins, but he doesn't move. He's going to let the other man come to him. What he doesn't expect is the other stallion to suddenly vanish in shadow that couldn't possibly be natural.

Shit. God damn these magic fairy horses and their weird ass abilities.

Head lifting in confusion, the draft stud shifts his weight, ears perked and locked on the obscure sight as it trots towards him. He should move, he has to move, but how? He can't tell what the man's plans are or where he's going to try and hit him -- or even what he's going to try to hit him with. The shadow darts to Skel's left, and the titan jerks, swinging his rear towards the shadowed man in preparation for a kick.

He hesitates, and it costs him. Skeleton Ghoul yowls in surprise as an intense, bitter cold washes over his dock and hindquarters, tucking his pelvis almost comically hard and lurching forward. Swinging around, he listens hard to the sound of hoof beats, and drives himself into a (hitched and semi-awkward due to the cold -- thanks for that) canter. He lacks fancy magic, and knows he's at a disadvantage considering Leilan obviously doesn't, but he's been fighting his entire life using only the gifts that he was born with -- sharp teeth, and some two thousand pounds of rippling muscle.

Skeleton Ghoul knows this land like the end of his nose -- better even, considering he can't see the end of his nose. He canters a smaller circle, listening to his opponent in the mist, doing his best to track roughly where he is. Finally, he gets close enough, and Skel makes his move.

The giant stallion bursts out of the mist in front of Leilan, ears pinned and eyes looking back, searching for his position. Slamming on the brakes ahead of the other stud to close the distance, Skeleton Ghoul throws his head down, sending out a mighty kick with both back hooves aimed at Leilan's chest. If he connects it will absolutely hurt, maybe even cause a mild hematoma, but Skel is pulling his punches -- it's practice, and he doesn't want to kick him with everything he has.

Landing back down, the titan darts hard (as hard as he can) to the right, trotting with an arched neck back into the clearing. He shakes his tangled mane out of his eyes and turns, looking for the other man, waiting for his response.