"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
Two posts each, one attack per post.
Traits allowed
Let’s try to get this done quickly, eh?
I don’t mind who goes first, it’s up to you.
Romek’s stats:
Physically around 9, 10
Sound mimicry, tiger shifting, immortality
15hh
Warlander hybrid
Silver smoky black, with spots, and also two scars upon his shoulders in the shape of ram horns.
Andras stood before another stallion, today as the day he would learn exactly what a battle is like. The young equine who was just barely a stallion stared at the other who was much wiser and older than he, who had traits he could not pick out. The horse had an almost identical build to Andras, although Andras was taller, but height wasn't everything. He scanned over his opponent who stood awaiting Andras to attack, he was of a sooty color with some scars on his shoulders.
He took in a deep breath and gazed over to find the stallions eyes, it was about mid day and the sun was high in the sky beating down on there backs. A casual breeze came by every now and than, providing shelter from the harsh sun beams. It was in the moment that he exhaled that Andras stepped forward, he broke out into a gallop and strode directly towards the stallion, he lowered his horn aiming at the center of his chest but pulled up and diverted quickly to the right. He attempted to make some sort of distraction by doing so, he cantered a circle around the stallion before making some room between them. He gave a snort as he glared to the older stallion, yes Andras was young and had plenty to learn, but that did not mean he was an easy target.
Yet again Andras bolted forward for the stallion, he was not directly centered and was on the right side of the stallion. As he passed by him Andras turned his head looking at the stallion and lowering his head so his horn was now at the level of his stomach. He attempted to scrape his horn down the stallions stomach, from shoulder to rump. Once he passed the stallion he gave a whinny and continued to canter a circle until he was once again in front of him.
Let Go Of The Thoughts That Don't Make You Strong
Andras
2
Horn
16 hh
Warlander Hybrid
Bay Roan Appaloosa
OOC: Sorry this is short, I'm no good at opening battle posts:p
They stood for a while, sizing each other up, and while Romek would prefer to jump straight into it, having warmed up already on his way to the mock grounds, it was up to his opponent to strike first. So he just stood and looked for a little while, his face a blank mask, golden eyes impassive. Andras was barely an adult. Perhaps he’d feel a pang of guilt for choosing such an opponent (after all, he was a seasoned ex-General) but the kid had volunteered happily enough and Romek reasons that if he is old enough to volunteer, he is old enough to fight. The spotted stallion will not go easy on him. It would be insulting to the boy, and besides, he knows better than to underestimate his opponents – for all he knew, the boy could have hidden traits, much like his own. But still, if Romek were this lad’s father, he would not have let him out. He could do all kinds of damage to his still growing body, not to mention that he will most likely lack the stamina and muscle mass of a mature stallion.
They end up standing for not very long, for which Romek is grateful for. It has been too long since he had last fought, and the anticipation is causing the blood to sing through his body, and he is almost dancing on the spot, hooves kneading the bare ground, trodden flat by the hundreds of fighting horses before them. In preparation, he shifts his teeth into that of a tiger, aided by the muscles necessary to give a much more forceful bite. He looks a bit silly, but it’s not for looks.
Finally, the horned stallion makes his move. Bafflingly he chooses to gallop straight at Romek, with his horn lowered towards the shorter stallion’s chest, putting the spotted stallion directly into his own blindspot. If he assumed that Romek was going to stay still, he was wrong – Romek is no amateur in this game. He moves forward to meet Andras at a steady trot (naturally with his head tilted slightly to keep Andras out of his own blind spot), after all, he is in no rush like his opponent is, and as well as being more energy conscious, it will also be easier for him to see what is going to happen – unlike Andras, who has lowered his head to his opponent and is charging, paying no mind to whatever Romek is going to do, giving himself no time to change his plans. The mistake of a rash, over-eager rookie – and unfortunately for that rookie, Romek has decided he will not be going easy on him.
Ears pinned back, the tiger stallion bares his sharp teeth as the boy draws nearer, and his weight shifts ever-so-slightly to his hindquarters to ready himself for a defensive manoeuvre, and he lashes out with both of his hooves at once, stamping the earth with ferocity, whilst simultaneously moving forward, using the momentum that he had already built up to bring his back legs and therefore his entire body forward, to lash out with those lethal front legs again, this time a little closer to Andras’ face. The horned stallion, in a miraculous feat of agility, veers to Romek’s left and the spotted stallion snakes his head to follow him, those sharp teeth clicking shut, again, in most likely empty air behind Andras’ ears. Consider it a warning.
Again, the young stallion was baffling in his actions, wasting energy on a charge, a feint… for what purpose? Romek was hardly a child scared by such things, he has faced much much worse on a lot more serious terms; this man-child with his stubby little pointer is barely a drop in the ocean to him. He attempts to circle Romek but, again, the spotted stallion will not stay still for him, and now he tires of this boring game of cat-and-mouse. He wishes Andras will get his stupid attack over and done with so that he can retaliate, and not have to patiently deal with all of his attempts at setting him off balance, trying to catch him off guard.
Romek will not stay still so that Andras can circle him. Let the young boy with his young boy stamina wear himself out. Romek, conditioned on the dunes of the Deserts for most of his life, and then out in the wilderness, is no skinny wreck of sinew and failure. He does not let the younger man have the space he so craves – this is a battle, after all, not a racing match.
Eventually after a small chasing, dipping and weaving session*, Andras is coming at him again, from just in front of him, towards his right side, once again as Romek is trotting towards him. Romek lets loose a sound he has only heard once, from his dragon-sire, Nocturnal, during the war – it is the cry of a dragon, inequine, foreign, and very very loud. Romek has never used his sound mimicry in a battle before but he hopes that it will distract his opponent at least a little bit. His magical energy feels at least half drained, which was to be expected for making a noise of that magnitude (and with little to no practice using it, either).
Quite suddenly Andras turns his head to make contact between his horn and Romek’s shoulder. It’s a glancing blow, lacking the majority of the momentum of Andras’ charge due to the fact he was not centered behind it, and had had to move his head to achieve contact. Nonetheless, the horn is sharp and it digs into the flesh of Romek’s right shoulder, causing a deep sting of pain to radiate outwards. It is not deep enough to damage any muscles, and for now, the pain is only one of fire, enveloping the gouge and the area around it. Another scar. Perhaps later, it will start to bruise due to the force of it and he will find it painful to move his neck or foreleg. But, for now, in this moment, with adrenaline pumping hotly, it is but a graze extending about three inches.
His head whips around as the horn snags on his shoulder-flesh, his back legs lightly sidestepping to position himself a little better, and to avoid the horn from travelling further. With his tiger’s teeth bared, he snaps out at Andras’ undefended neck, intending to dig in and grasp onto his flesh, sink fangs into those muscles responsible for moving his neck, head and that pretty little pointer of his. It would be advantageous to remove that from play (for Romek, at least), or at least impair the use of it. As he does this, he slips seamlessly into his tiger form. If he has managed to grasp onto the stallion’s neck, then there will be a lot of momentum and he will probably be swung around, and his clumsy equine form will struggle with it. But his tiger form? No, here he is made for catching, holding and killing prey. It is an infinitely more agile state to be in (although it leaves him with barely enough magical energy to transform back into his horse form at the end of all this).
the wanderer
*Just putting this cos Romek wouldn’t stand still for that and I don’t wanna powerplay your character or change what you’re trying to do in your post. Just to make it more realistic. Sorry if this is not a good thing.
OFFICERS, as well, I would like to have some feedback on what you think of this? I think it’s a good way to break up close contact scenes I suppose, but I can understand that it’d be nice to full envisage the battle. But opinions would be grand
ALSO. sorry for the weird ending i got a bit tired :Z
Andras charged but the stallion averted the charge, Andras did not expect him to stay still but he certainly did not expect the stallion to be so quick. This was Andras' first battle, and it was not looking promising already, all he could hope for was a lack of pain and lessons learned. As he was charging the stallion he caught a glimpse of sharp ass teeth, what the fuck is that he thought to himself. He has seen traited horses but never one that could put predator teeth in there mouths! What has Andras gotten himself into.
As Andras thought he was smart to charge but not attack it was proven to be a played card, the stallion was not impressed nor amused. Instead as he circled the two stallions danced around each other, he gave a sigh maybe he should have picked a less experienced stallion to mock with. He shook the thoughts from his head and took his second attempt to attack the stallion, as he bolted forward ready to pierce the stallion an ear piercing screech shot through his ears. what the hell was that!! he thought to himself, the noise wanted to make him run away and as the noise dwindled he looked up to his opponent to see if he was just as confused. But he wasn't did this stallion who has feline teeth just make that noise? What in the world is this equine, although they were closer in contact now and his moves were limited he was lucky enough to be able to scrape the stallions side. It was not as deep as he wished and it would be a bother to the stallion but nothing that would cause trauma to his opponent.
As Andras was distracted by his own thoughts his opponent took that moment to attack, Andras should have known the feline teeth were odd, he shifted into an actual effing tiger. His eyes grew wide as the base of his neck was pierced with teeth. He never imagined he would know what it felt like to be attacked by a big cat, but today he learned. The pain shocked his whole body and it burned, oh the pain constantly burned. It hurt to move but he had to in order to get this cat off him! He bolted forward, much slower than before partially due to fatigue partially due to a tiger being dug into his neck! As he moved forward the tiger only clenched tighter, it wasn't helping. He snorted and thrashed his head around hoping to wiggle free but that didn't work, he did not see any end insight, he only had one hope. The stallion launched himself off the ground lifting his front legs up rearing into the sky, he came back down but not to land his feet to the ground. No Andras turned on his back, he flipped over and swiveled in hopes to crush the feline, to rid the pain from his body.
Let Go Of The Thoughts That Don't Make You Strong
@[Romek]
OOC: Sorry i was confused at the end if he shifted into a tiger fully or not, but I wrote my post as if he did, because thats what I understood.
Romek’s teeth find purchase on Andras’ neck and he is swung around with the momentum of Andras’ movement (and his neck will surely be a little sore tomorrow), slamming the left side of his body into the right side of his opponent. At this sudden jerk his freshly-injured shoulder screams but it is mostly drowned out by the sound of his humming blood, and the taste of warm blood in his mouth. As Andras bolts forward, Romek’s front paws scrabble to find purchase on the skin of the young stallion, intending to dig the claws in as deep as possible. Partially to secure his position on the stallion’s neck and back (his bite was not as high up the neck as intended, but at a more broad section of his neck, where it was more difficult to get a good grasp on the flesh) but also to inflict damage – this would be his final attack.
It is no wonder Andras is feeling fatigued. The Siberian tiger is a heavy weight to bear, and Romek is dragging his hind feet along the floor in an attempt to slow him down. A horse is much faster than a tiger, and Romek will never be able to catch the boy again if he lets go of him.
Andras rears and for a moment Romek is hovering in mid air, his back legs dangling somewhat. It’s an entirely unpleasant sensation for the tiger, and loosening his grip a lot as his muscles desperately tried to keep his balance and prevent him from falling beneath his opponent. Even for a tiger, hooves are dangerous. But Andras does not fall onto his feet, instead flopping on to the ground. Romek’s back legs hit the earth first and he skitters backwards out of the way somewhat, before the rest of the stallion comes crashing down – hard. At that moment, Romek bails on the hold on the neck, choosing instead to try to avoid being squashed to death. He manages to disengage nimbly, but still slams into the floor on his side, knocking the wind from his chest. He can’t breathe, and the pain is burning throughout his chest and throat, and his shoulder throbs too, having landed on it, exacerbating the fresh injuries already there.
Panting, he shifts back into his horse form, somewhat doubled over before he stands up straight and gives a nod to his opponent. The battle is over.
