03-25-2016, 10:39 PM
when you fall I'll be the only one who looks away;
when you call I'll be the first to tell you I can't stay.
when you call I'll be the first to tell you I can't stay.
The onslaught of rain does little to ease the tension that is thick in the air - his dark tresses quickly become drenched and his marred skin becomes slick with its dampness, dripping onto the clay beneath his behemoth weight. The torrential downpour soon eases before the rain can soothe the thirsty ground with its nourishment and though he is left slick and damp, the ground remains steady and firm. He studies the skies as his skin begins to crawl; he is being watched and he can feel the inevitable drawing near.
With a thunderous clap, the sky breaks through with a brilliant flash of light, and suddenly he appears. With enormous wings and streaks of cobalt highlighting his obsidian coat and the feathers that line his avian appendages, Phaedrus arrives. A thick, warm puff of air is emitted from the depths of his lungs as he takes in the sight of him. Wings are merely for theatrics; he is not intimidated by them, nor his ability for flight. Instead, he focused on his limbs, observing his stance and analyzing him for weakness. He acknowledges his brief nod with one of his own, but soon his searing eyes of red are on him once more, wary and prepared.
He circles with him and behind him counter-clockwise, refusing to allow him to gain any sort of momentum on him. His neck lowers as he studies him as bleak rays of sunshine begin to peek out from behind the thick clouds - and within moments, he finds himself launched upon. The other male turns away from him, thrusting his hind hooves towards his massive shoulder, which rolls and shifts with each movement as the muscle beneath tense for the attack. A sharp pain strikes through his tendons as the force of his kick lands squarely against his muscles, but he does not linger near him for long enough to allow him a second hit.
He draws away from him, allowing distance to settle between them as he eyes him tentatively, searching for an opening. Due to his massive weight and height, he is no match for him in agility - but he can counter with immense strength. As Phaedrus nears him again, with his neck elongated to strike out at this knee, he finds himself unable to move away as swiftly as the other could. His teeth lash out at his knee and strike a tender spot, causing him to shout in pain and anger. Using a movement to traditionally display dominance, Phaedrus has effectively rendered Offspring's leg momentarily weak, but he does not stand long enough in that very spot to allow for further damage.
Enraged by the challenge of dominance, he counters and turns towards him again (now side by side; Phaedrus facing the north and Offspring facing the south) and launches the breadth of his size and weight into him. He seeks to knock the wind out of him; to throw him off balance. He does not wait to ensure this occurs and instead, rises up onto his hindlegs (the left wavers and wobbles slightly, still tender from Phaedrus' strike and yet his mental resolve is stronger and he soldiers on) and again launches his weighty body into the other's with as much force as he can muster.
As he steps back, his eyes fiery and fierce, he rolls his shoulders (with an ache that will last for a day or two, at least) and braces himself for another attack. "Is that all you've got?" He asks with a drawl, irritation laced in his voice.
With a thunderous clap, the sky breaks through with a brilliant flash of light, and suddenly he appears. With enormous wings and streaks of cobalt highlighting his obsidian coat and the feathers that line his avian appendages, Phaedrus arrives. A thick, warm puff of air is emitted from the depths of his lungs as he takes in the sight of him. Wings are merely for theatrics; he is not intimidated by them, nor his ability for flight. Instead, he focused on his limbs, observing his stance and analyzing him for weakness. He acknowledges his brief nod with one of his own, but soon his searing eyes of red are on him once more, wary and prepared.
He circles with him and behind him counter-clockwise, refusing to allow him to gain any sort of momentum on him. His neck lowers as he studies him as bleak rays of sunshine begin to peek out from behind the thick clouds - and within moments, he finds himself launched upon. The other male turns away from him, thrusting his hind hooves towards his massive shoulder, which rolls and shifts with each movement as the muscle beneath tense for the attack. A sharp pain strikes through his tendons as the force of his kick lands squarely against his muscles, but he does not linger near him for long enough to allow him a second hit.
He draws away from him, allowing distance to settle between them as he eyes him tentatively, searching for an opening. Due to his massive weight and height, he is no match for him in agility - but he can counter with immense strength. As Phaedrus nears him again, with his neck elongated to strike out at this knee, he finds himself unable to move away as swiftly as the other could. His teeth lash out at his knee and strike a tender spot, causing him to shout in pain and anger. Using a movement to traditionally display dominance, Phaedrus has effectively rendered Offspring's leg momentarily weak, but he does not stand long enough in that very spot to allow for further damage.
Enraged by the challenge of dominance, he counters and turns towards him again (now side by side; Phaedrus facing the north and Offspring facing the south) and launches the breadth of his size and weight into him. He seeks to knock the wind out of him; to throw him off balance. He does not wait to ensure this occurs and instead, rises up onto his hindlegs (the left wavers and wobbles slightly, still tender from Phaedrus' strike and yet his mental resolve is stronger and he soldiers on) and again launches his weighty body into the other's with as much force as he can muster.
As he steps back, his eyes fiery and fierce, he rolls his shoulders (with an ache that will last for a day or two, at least) and braces himself for another attack. "Is that all you've got?" He asks with a drawl, irritation laced in his voice.
the ice king of the tundra
OFFSPRING
- 594 words. Close enough. I'm not going to be a stickler if it's more than 550 for either of us.
- No time limit on replies; revoked due to busy lives (Tiny's and my own)
- Chose against including Offspring's ice manipulation, as this mock was proposed prior to receiving it