05-19-2018, 01:48 PM
The dying winds of winter and eager chatter amongst equine kin lead her to the vast plains of the battlefield. Never one to be the instigator of such physical encounters, the spotted mare finds herself on the opposite side of personal beliefs for the second time in the Tournament. Where the debate round forced her into presuming the role of devil's advocate on a topic she didn't fully believe in, she can appreciate this round for the primal instinct of survival it was to harbor.
Across the way, Breckin assesses the unique form of her dueling partner. Other than the contrast of his coat color and pattern, there is nothing significant that stands out in the way of Beqanna's magical capabilities. Though she knows that what meets the eye can be deceiving. Particularly if the fellow possesses abilities that cannot be visualized, but experienced.
Driven by the nervous rush of adrenaline alighting from the tension of the oncoming match, the din around her falls to null, leaving only the increasing rate of her heart to set the tempo for her rhythmic approach. Instead of rushing her foe, she finds her motivation based on the opportunity to learn. So Breckin opts for a softer approach, using a quickened walk aimed at her opponent. Her approach is direct, but slow enough for her to further gain aesthetic knowlege of her foe. Opportunity is there for him to back up or withdraw if he chooses, but it they wish to properly commence, he would have to remain near at some point. Never stopping her fast paced walk, she quickly re-assesses his appearance and is surprised to notice that where hair would adorn the average equine, he wears what appears to be thick plates. Unsure of what this means in ways of her attacks, she resolves to understand there would be only one way to fully gage what the possibilities could be.
Stopping just out of reach and what she hopes to be directly in front of him, <b>"Well met, Brother of Ischia. May we part with gains of new knowledge today."</b> Ears drop to the top of her crest suddenly, the only indication of her oncoming attack before pressing into the buffer of air between them while simultaneously letting her head fall downard. Retracting her lips to display bared teeth, she snakes her head towards the bulk of his right forearm, before shifting direction to aim for actual contact with his left forearm instead, in the attempt to force him backwards and throw him off balance. The direct and downward approach would leave her crest, withers and left shoulder exposed to him, but it was a sacrifice she was willing to take to elicit surprise. Not waiting to see if her incisors found purchase on the scales of his left limb, she allows the momentum to further carry her hopefully towards his left side. Front hooves slide to a stop on the frigid earth while swinging her hindquarters towards him perpendicularly if he as not yet moved away. If she had managed to knock him off kilter, she hopes to further the unbalance as her rear limbs reach backward. Her lashing buck is firm and aimed at where she believes his ribs and belly area to be, intent on leaving a bruise if her hit landed. If he no longer remains where she thought him to be, she can only hope she has gained distance between them. Only after her rear hooves find the packed terrain again does she turn to face him, ready as ever to meet with the repercussions.
Across the way, Breckin assesses the unique form of her dueling partner. Other than the contrast of his coat color and pattern, there is nothing significant that stands out in the way of Beqanna's magical capabilities. Though she knows that what meets the eye can be deceiving. Particularly if the fellow possesses abilities that cannot be visualized, but experienced.
Driven by the nervous rush of adrenaline alighting from the tension of the oncoming match, the din around her falls to null, leaving only the increasing rate of her heart to set the tempo for her rhythmic approach. Instead of rushing her foe, she finds her motivation based on the opportunity to learn. So Breckin opts for a softer approach, using a quickened walk aimed at her opponent. Her approach is direct, but slow enough for her to further gain aesthetic knowlege of her foe. Opportunity is there for him to back up or withdraw if he chooses, but it they wish to properly commence, he would have to remain near at some point. Never stopping her fast paced walk, she quickly re-assesses his appearance and is surprised to notice that where hair would adorn the average equine, he wears what appears to be thick plates. Unsure of what this means in ways of her attacks, she resolves to understand there would be only one way to fully gage what the possibilities could be.
Stopping just out of reach and what she hopes to be directly in front of him, <b>"Well met, Brother of Ischia. May we part with gains of new knowledge today."</b> Ears drop to the top of her crest suddenly, the only indication of her oncoming attack before pressing into the buffer of air between them while simultaneously letting her head fall downard. Retracting her lips to display bared teeth, she snakes her head towards the bulk of his right forearm, before shifting direction to aim for actual contact with his left forearm instead, in the attempt to force him backwards and throw him off balance. The direct and downward approach would leave her crest, withers and left shoulder exposed to him, but it was a sacrifice she was willing to take to elicit surprise. Not waiting to see if her incisors found purchase on the scales of his left limb, she allows the momentum to further carry her hopefully towards his left side. Front hooves slide to a stop on the frigid earth while swinging her hindquarters towards him perpendicularly if he as not yet moved away. If she had managed to knock him off kilter, she hopes to further the unbalance as her rear limbs reach backward. Her lashing buck is firm and aimed at where she believes his ribs and belly area to be, intent on leaving a bruise if her hit landed. If he no longer remains where she thought him to be, she can only hope she has gained distance between them. Only after her rear hooves find the packed terrain again does she turn to face him, ready as ever to meet with the repercussions.