Meadow

No answer follows her idle question and the Icelandic mare slowly stiffens, wondering if she had taken the measure of her nameless companion incorrectly. She didn't often seek company for herself, largely because doing so required effort she often wasn't willing to put into socialization. Even now, if the snow and the dark hadn't been so oppressive and intimate, she might have avoided it altogether.

Very soon, she'd wish that she had.

There is no vocal answer to her query, but an answer comes nonetheless. She turns abruptly toward the sound of rushing hoofbeats and finds her view filled with a horse of monochrome color like herself. Larger, taller, thicker than her, and made even more so by the hostility she sensed from this attack. Having not thought herself in any imminent danger, Ingrid was slow to respond, her body stiffening before sluggishly beginning to backpedal.

It wasn't enough, not by a longshot.

Ingrid gasped raggedly in the frigid air as his teeth found purchase on the point of her withers. Any higher and he would have been thwarted by the thick tumble of her mane, and lower the width of her back would have prevented him from getting a grip.

"Mannfyla!" She cursed, her voice twisted with pain. Ingrid had never been a warrior, not truly. Her passion had lain in learning the stories of her people, not in acquiring muscle. Pain was not something she was familiar with, and the sting of it rendered her thoughts muddled and confused. She tried to pull away from the larger stallion, thrashing against the twin impediments of thick, fresh snow and a determined attacker, without making much progress. Her kicks sent snow flying but little else, and she wasn't strong enough to pull away from him.

"Fardu til helvitis!" She half-cried, half-snarled, before finally giving up her attempt to flee and instead rounding on her attacker, turning her own jaws against him. Each strike was blind, but no less ferocious for it's ineptitude.

"Get off!" She growled as she pulled away, unsure if she had managed to actually land a hit or not. In the chaos of trying to prevent him from doing further damage, she wasn't entirely certain of what her own teeth had grasped onto, or if, in fact, she had hit anything at all.