The dark stallion obliged his taunting, flying at Zahhāk in a flurry of pinned ears and hooves and teeth. He reared up to meet his larger foe, his narrow frame a poor match against him. Romulus’ bite landed sharply on his belly and he squealed in annoyance more than pain, his lips pulled back revealing his own blunt teeth. He pawed at the air in front of him, lightly clipping his foe’s shoulder as all four of his hooves came back down to the earth.
As the other stallion circled back around for another pass at him, Zahhāk noticed that the red mare had disappeared like an ember in the wind, not bothering to stay and see who the victor of their little skirmish would be. The distraction rendered the smoky black Akhal-Teke’s already scant defenses even more ill-equipped, and he suffered the intended blow of his opponent’s hooves upon the side of his neck as he attempted to swerve away.
The edge of the grullo’s hoof had peeled a layer of skin away from him like bark from the soft wood of one of the many pines that surrounded them in silence. Zahhāk snorted loudly and backed away, blood collecting over the new neck wound as his rib-laden sides heaved from the short burst of effort. Romulus had clearly noticed the disappearance of the red mare now as well, and thus there was no further reason to issue more blows. He barked a sharp laugh in response, and Zahhāk wrinkled his nose with distaste at the anticlimactic conclusion of this encounter, his eyes glittering with rancor.
So once again, he was maimed and alone.
Zahhāk
There was madness in any direction, at any hour.
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