Braylen never took his eyes from the aggressor, the blue orbs rolling back to keep the dark brute in focus. When Ceolwulf turns the attack onto Braylen the young stallion is ready but still he scrambles awkardly with a response to the well aimed blows of an older stallion. His first sense was to get his legs out of the way and so he plants his hind ones firmly into the ground, rocking his weight back onto them as his front raises out of the way and into a twisting rear. He churns the forest floor, his hocks scrapping the ground as he stops his forward momentum. Throwing his weight into Ceolwulf's attack a grunt of air is forced from his lungs and he can feel the sting of the stallion's teeth upon his flesh. Eyes water from the contact the brute's ivories make upon his face, a squeal of rage and hurt blasts free before Braylen becomes the attacker.
Ears still buried beneath his pale locks, he twists his body so that his teeth snap at Ceolwulf's dark neck as his front legs lash out blindly for any contact Braylen could make. Red was starting to tinge his vision as his fury was starting to take hold, an emotion that his father had once talked about that Braylen had hoped he didn't have.
|