The sharp tang of her blood flits across his tongue. The grullo relishes her pained squeal with a sense of pompous retribution. It is this oversight that forces the painted man to lose this particular squabble. He didn't have time or the sense to keep out of reach of her hindend as the bay whirled to get away from him.
Her hoof hadn't connected straight on as Roskva had hoped. Instead it glanced slightly to the outside of his stifle, but her aim did not miss its mark entirely. Tribulation hadn't expected the blow, and its impact rattled deep into his bones. He loosed his own angry cry of pain, unable to put full weight on the limb. Distracted, the tovero stumbled into an awkward hobble. His leg, though not broken, would bruise deeply. A bleeding gash from the edge of the mare's hoof cut across his stifle; Tribulation would have to take great care to not let it get infected.
The stallion's teeth gnashed wildly in his fury at her blow and subsequent escape. An incensed scream would echo out across the land in the escaping mare's wake. This was not over. It would be a cold day in hell before he let her get from him, especially after this blow. Tribulation bared his teeth in the fading sound of the bay's retreat, eyes alight with the promise of retribution. He'd drag that bitch kicking and screaming to the Lagoon if it was the last thing he did.