Relief seems to wash over the other stallion’s face as he realizes the extent of Fell’s muteness. He addresses it, but only briefly before moving on, as though unbothered. Fell cocks his head curiously at him; the Arabian male does not even seem irritated by the fact that this ‘conversation’ is going to have to be one sided.

Fell thinks on Zurok’s proposal. It’s straightforward, easy for Fell to weigh in without speaking. Logical. His intact ear flicks forward and back while he considers, and then he nods. Zurok had offered a sparring match; this is a language Fell speaks well.

He takes a deliberate step forward, his neck arching so that his whiskered chin touches to his chest. He extends one feathered forehoof and paws at the sand between the two stallions. He blows again, his belly contracting to thrust the air from his lungs like a piston into the cool breeze. It’s a challenge, loud but a rather polite one, for his ears remain cupped forward with interest and his tail sways peaceably at his heels instead of snapping against his ribs.

He allows a few seconds for Zurok to prepare, strike first if he is quick, or backpedal if he wishes. Then Fell springs forward like a dog aroused at the hunt. His broad chest lifts into the air, forelegs raising from the ground in a rear before he bears down on the other stallion with teeth and mass. He aims mostly for the Arabian’s crest and mane, seeking a hold on him with which to force him to his knees in the sand. Fell avoids snapping at the fine features of Zurok’s face; there is a time and a place to fight dirty, and a friendly spar is not it, though under any other circumstances Fell would not shy away from disfiguring his opponents.

Now that they are moving and conversing in a way the Bay stallion can participate, his irritation dissolves. Fell’s blood sings with adrenaline and thrill, and he swells with joy at the battle.

FELL

stallion. 16hh. black. marwari x. Rougaru x visurix.