The Plains
Major battles may often take place in this land.
Post 2
IP: 68.48.226.246
Posted on May 17, 2011 at 15:59:45 by Jadis
There was something satisfying about feeling her hooves hit his rear. It was not that she was a particularly violent horse—in fact more often than not she tended to be calm more than any other kind of passionate emotion. But the roar of the crowd and the vibration of her heart beating in her ears created an unbelievable rush and desire to win. The dappled gray turned and as Snake put it, ‘cooed’ to the crowd, playing up the viewers’ aspect of this game. Her ears twitched when he yelled back at her, her smirk playing on her lips now. She would have shouted something in return, but it had been time for her second attack.
She was not the most skilled opponent so she had indeed made a mistake by attacking his armpit area instead of his midsection. She sensed him begin to rear, but the force from her buck could not be slowed. Instead of hitting his shoulder, or perhaps his foreleg, she instead struck slightly behind and between his two legs, right along where his sternum would be. As the connection bone for his ribs, she felt that her attack was as successful as she could hope for.
Her hind legs were falling at the same time as he rose in his rear. She could tell that he was going to try to pivot in a way that would allow his foreleg to strike her rear. Her right hind leg struck the dirt first and she managed to shift her weight on it to push herself forward and away from him. However, the time it took to fall from her buck was not lightening fast and as her left hind leg hit the ground, his left foreleg struck her croup, to the right side of her spine. The pain was sharp and even as she pushed off away from him, it caused her to be a bit lame.
It was take two of Snake charging her head on, but this time Jadis was not jigging in place. Nerves had been replaced by pain and adrenalin. She expected a similar attack as his first and was preparing to sidestep another rear. Instead, he curved around, clearly trying to gain an attack on her side. She was wary of this and knew that if she were to move too soon, he would adjust his direction to keep his attack aimed as he wanted. But he was only approaching at a canter and she had enough time to figure out that his intended target was her midsection. Whether it would come in the form of a rear, a bite, or a collision was not clear.
She quickly took two steps forward in the time that it was proven that he would not be rearing or suddenly changing directions. The drying blood from his first attack made moving her front shoulder stiff but she ignored it. Instead, she took his ram on the hindquarter, his shoulder hitting the middle of her haunch. Collision was a different kind of attack and she thought it odd. It hurt as it was definitely blunt force to a tired muscle. But the muscle is so thick at that point that it would be difficult to do deeper damage than bruising.
She wasted no time, shifting her weight to her front to buck at him in a counterattack. For him to have hit her with his shoulder, his front was closer to her hindquarter. With her two steps forward, more was the case. The movement of the buck made her grimace in pain, and her wound on the right side of her croup caused that leg to be slightly slower than the other.
However, she had to take advantage of the positioning of this stallion, so close was his head to her most powerful limbs. He was undoubtedly going to take off in the direction he was already standing, placing his forelegs in position to be hit by her buck. There were multiple targets for her attack. It could be the base of his neck, the point of shoulder which could make breathing difficult. Or, it could hit those retreating forelegs, possibly breaking the radius or ulna. If he was quicker in his getaway, her legs could still his barrel, bruising or breaking ribs. Her attack was reactionary, for her buck could in no way be as powerful as it might have been before the severe bruising inflicted by her opponent and also because she bucked from a standstill.
Her hind legs fell to the ground, her nostrils flared from the exercise of the battle. Already close to the border of the arena, she called out to the audience, spying Anarchist in the stadium. Hopefully her friend would understand her game. “He sure likes my hips!” she shouted. She heard his words, mocking her. She laughed. “Oh, silly boy! Who wouldn’t want you?” she asked as seductively as her nature allowed. It sickened her to be so false, but it had been her plan to play up the fact that before her stood a Tundra stallion and she an Amazonian mare.
She eyed the distance between them warily, wondering if she could cross it with as little of a limp as possible. Speed was the only way to get to him before he could respond in a way that would make an attack useless. She gritted her teeth, knowing that the faster she got to him, the sooner the pain would be over. Gathering herself, she quickly transitioned from a trot, to a canter, and then to a gallop, altering her direction often to confuse him of her intended target. Ultimately she was aiming for his right side, her front aimed at his shoulder. The distance was quickly breached and with a few shorter lengths to collect her weight towards the back, she faked a rear, her front legs possibly hitting his right cannon bone. Instead, she lashed out with her teeth, her target right above his point of shoulder at the base of his neck. There, the thickness of the neck would fit perfectly in her mouth, and while horses’ teeth are blunt and made for grazing, the pressure she could apply to that point would cause a stop in those veins, possibly bruising, if not difficulty breathing. If he moved the speed at which she had approached him at would allow her to match his direction easily. She meant to take advantage of a tool not yet used; given that her other limbs were not as useful anymore. Her teeth sought its target to grip as hard as her jaw could allow.
She pulled back, the fight over. Dust still clouded around them from her approach, causing the view of the stadium to be obscured. Head still close to his, she whispers in her ear, a show of sexuality for the crowd that might still be able to see them. “Good fight.”
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