Mock Battles
Beside the Challenge grounds is a smaller area designated for mocks. Battle is a way of life in the land of Beqanna, and one must be in top shape to succeed over their foes. This land is a land of practice, where knowledge and skill is gained and wounds are healed immediately after by a watchful battle fairy.
their off to find the hero of the day
IP: 173.80.48.107
Posted on March 31, 2009 at 02:49:21 AM by warship
Warship was excited for the chance to battle. Of course it was not a real battle, and neither him nor his opponent, Stutterfly, would be aiming to seriously hurt one another, it was still exciting. The stallion cantered easily into the mock battle grounds, muscles lengthening and warming beneath the blue-black fur. His gait was collected, his weight balanced, the power churning from his back legs. He was a strong stallion, built much like his father, but still retaining the Arabian heritage of his mother. Short, thick neck tied nicely into a broad back, which in turn melded into an ample hind quarter. His legs were that of a Mustang, leaving them sturdy enough to withstand the rigors of battling and life in the wild in general. But at the end of the neck was a small, carefully crafted head. His eyes were wide set, the small ears perched easily atop his cranium. His head and his head alone told of the Arabian blood that ran hot in his veins, of the desert horse that fueled him. Beneath the fur and muscles and bones were wide lungs, able to fill with large amounts of air. His nostrils too were fluted, enabling him to suck wind into himself with ease. And beneath all of that, beneath the workings of his equine anatomy was something more, something that hadn’t been bred into him, at least, not in that sense. His heart too was large and beat valiantly within him, feeding the fire that drove him onwards. And of course there was the voice. She too fed his insanity, drew her own life from it. She was whispering excitedly now. What better time for her to appear than when there was a battle looming on the horizon? Warship knew that if she broke him down, then Stutterfly would have no chance. He could not, would not let that happen.
When he arrived at the mock grounds, he spotted his opponent right away. Her odd coloring caused her to stand out much like a sore thumb. A small smile fell onto his lips, and the light in his eyes was warm. Again, they meant each other no real harm. It was simply practice for Warship and a learning experience for Stutterfly. Warship continued the slow, even canter, angling himself slightly to the right of the mare. The space between them closed quickly, and Warship began to plan his attack. Moving more to the right he gave himself room to come towards her at a slight forty-five degree angle, his oncoming body in line with the point of her shoulder. Dropping his read end, his front legs stiffened, knees jarring as they absorbed the shock of such an abrupt slow down. With the majority of his weight already on his hindquarters, he reared, front legs at about the height of the shoulders point, should the mare stay in one place. His head snaked towards her face, mouth agape as he snapped in her direction. This, of course, was not an attack, but more of a distraction. It was equine nature to fling their heads up and away from something flying towards there vulnerable eyes and ears.
Should his attack land, there were several possibilities of injury. A bruised muscle would probably be the most likely, due to the blunt force of his hooves hitting her. Should he hit the top of her shoulder where it protruded ever so slightly from her frame, then he supposed there could be hairline fractures, possibly chips. Those, however, were unlikely. Warship may not have been a light horse, but he was by no means a draft breed. There also could be some scrapes, the hair being peeled away from the skin. His hooves were not daggers, and therefore they were never intended to cut open. It is true a horse in captivity could tear the flesh of another horse with a sharp kick, but this is only when the hooves are supplemented by steel, aluminum, or some other metal. When he landed, he wheeled to the left, moving only slightly away from the mare. In his opinion it was a waste of energy to run around the battlegrounds chasing one another. Horses in the wild stayed close together throughout the fight, thus conserving energy and keeping a closer eye on their adversary. With a snort and a fling of his head, he looked back at Stutterfly. “Now that you have some idea, hit me with your best shot.” And with a twisted grin that hid something far more sinister behind it, he waited on her.
Ooc- ok, so its been a while for me too =)
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