05-17-2018, 11:14 AM
Even though she is participating in this tournament to prove her worthiness for Nerine, this middle round is different. This middle round is battling and so it frankly doesn't matter what the upper crust of Nerine thinks, because this is about proving herself to <i>Brennen</i>. About proving that despite her capricious nature in regards to her sire's training programs, she's the equal of any of her siblings, or even his new recruits.
She doesn't know the Brother she faces across the field, but she takes a wary look at the twin horns sticking up and back from his head; her only consolation is that to put them to use, he'll have to tuck his head quite far and compromise his own vision of whatever he is striking at. Bristol herself is bearing the short, broad wings in the shape of her favorite bird to watch, the fierce and agile goshawk. And if they're a bright fury red instead of her natural black, well, one could say she's just getting into the right mood.
Picking up a quick canter, the mare comes straight at Takei but only for a couple of strides before she launches herself into the air, gaining altitude quickly but keeping a careful eye on the boy below. She's thankful it's an overcast day, with plenty of light but no direct sun to get into anyone's eyes. She circles once, twice, overhead and then folds her wings, dropping like a stone to where Takei's hindquarters had been the last time she checked before stopping. Her weight lends her to a quick fall, and as she was just high enough to stay out of range of a rear or a leap, she waits only two heartbeats before snapping her wings open, arresting her fall even as she glances at where her target is now and lashes out with her hindlegs, which she hopes will be somewhere right over center mass.
He, of course, would have been free to move, but it had been a nearly miniscule amount of time for him to have done so. Her heartrate is elevated, perhaps 100 beats per minute at this point, so she'd been dropping less than a second. Perhaps add a second for the actual folding and unfolding of her wings, but she has high hopes for taking the pinto by surprise. Her aim is for the big, motion-important gluteal muscles across the top of his hindquarters. Her dull hooves can't rip into flesh in the way her raptor friends' can, but a big enough bruise would affect his movement and give her an edge. If he's moved, she still hopes to land a kick somewhere along his topline; perhaps on his spine, the vulnerable point of his scapula that might be more exposed if he's in motion, or his crest where his weird mane is full of...are those sticks? Even a solid kick to one of those horns, maybe she could break it.
After her hindlegs are at full extension, whether she hits something or not, she snaps them back up to a safer place and lets her wings and her momentum carry her over Takei and a few strides away, where she lands and whirls around to face him, ready for anything.
She doesn't know the Brother she faces across the field, but she takes a wary look at the twin horns sticking up and back from his head; her only consolation is that to put them to use, he'll have to tuck his head quite far and compromise his own vision of whatever he is striking at. Bristol herself is bearing the short, broad wings in the shape of her favorite bird to watch, the fierce and agile goshawk. And if they're a bright fury red instead of her natural black, well, one could say she's just getting into the right mood.
Picking up a quick canter, the mare comes straight at Takei but only for a couple of strides before she launches herself into the air, gaining altitude quickly but keeping a careful eye on the boy below. She's thankful it's an overcast day, with plenty of light but no direct sun to get into anyone's eyes. She circles once, twice, overhead and then folds her wings, dropping like a stone to where Takei's hindquarters had been the last time she checked before stopping. Her weight lends her to a quick fall, and as she was just high enough to stay out of range of a rear or a leap, she waits only two heartbeats before snapping her wings open, arresting her fall even as she glances at where her target is now and lashes out with her hindlegs, which she hopes will be somewhere right over center mass.
He, of course, would have been free to move, but it had been a nearly miniscule amount of time for him to have done so. Her heartrate is elevated, perhaps 100 beats per minute at this point, so she'd been dropping less than a second. Perhaps add a second for the actual folding and unfolding of her wings, but she has high hopes for taking the pinto by surprise. Her aim is for the big, motion-important gluteal muscles across the top of his hindquarters. Her dull hooves can't rip into flesh in the way her raptor friends' can, but a big enough bruise would affect his movement and give her an edge. If he's moved, she still hopes to land a kick somewhere along his topline; perhaps on his spine, the vulnerable point of his scapula that might be more exposed if he's in motion, or his crest where his weird mane is full of...are those sticks? Even a solid kick to one of those horns, maybe she could break it.
After her hindlegs are at full extension, whether she hits something or not, she snaps them back up to a safer place and lets her wings and her momentum carry her over Takei and a few strides away, where she lands and whirls around to face him, ready for anything.