This was what he was built for.

When Ceolwulf’s teeth found the young boy’s face, he did not relent. He continued pushing forwards, his jaws repeatedly snapping for whatever flesh got in the way. The pale cheek of his victim passed by his yellowed teeth and he instead found himself presented with the boy’s neck.

This was what he lived for.

Teeth gripped at the black stallion’s own neck but he ignored it; a series of irritated grunts and squeals were the only indication that he even felt it. He harnessed the pain, letting it fuel his anger and spurning him to attack with increased vigour. His legs kicked out at the boy’s and the boy’s kicked out as his, taking hits along the cannons. While he would be bruised and most likely limping once the endorphins wore off; it was bearable for now.

This could not go on forever.

Finally, Ceolwulf became bored of the fight and, armed with the knowledge that he would not be leaving with the mare (and he thought he heard backup already on the way), he twisted away from the boy abruptly. Though his side was briefly left open for attack, he had the element of surprise on his side. Transferring his weight to his front, his cannons ached in protest as he threw a quick buck at the painted boy; aiming for his face or chest though he suspected the young stallion would dodge the worst of it.

All good things had to come to an end.

He trotted forwards. throwing a glance over his shoulder with an ominous smirk of his face, ”Until we meet again, boy” he chuckled. With that, he disappeared into the trees and made his way towards the shore. If the boy tried to chase him, he would gladly continue their spar but he was confident the young man would attend to his lady instead.