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    version 22: awakening


    OCEANE -- Year 208


    "Because if she had not met him, she knew she would have been searching her whole life for the piece that he filled her heart with." -- Eva, written by Shelbi

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    [mock]  Anyone
    Experience is the greatest teacher there is, so I'm here to experience what it's like to whoop someone's ass. Step right up and face me in the heart of Loess, where the grass isn't too tall and there aren't many trees to get in our way. I want to prove I'm the king of the ring.

    Standard challenge rules of 3 attacking posts each, 1000 words or less, and you go first. No time limit between posts since this is a mock, though.

    16'2" warmblood stallion
    A year and a half old
    Gold and star tobiano with wings, mind-reading, glowing tattoos, immortality.

    If you even dream of beating me, you better wake up and apologize.

    New Rule: no girlfriends allowed to accept this challenge
    Felicitey accepts your challenge, shes tired of being bored.

    14hh hybrid filly
    Peg wings, companion animal (capuchin monkey), lion shifting.. will mostly be in lion form

    Defects: deaf in right ear, blind in left eye.. hope hou feel good about yourself ?

    Malone goes first.

    Please go first? I mean I'm blind and deaf, man.
    Wrongo! My rules explicitly state the one to accept the challenge goes first. Get workin', sister.
    She had grown tired of the meadow, you could only pick all the golden flowers so many times before your den is littered by yellow powder. She had spent the past six months feeling confined to her dreaded birthplace of meadow versus Pangea. How could she really live with out her golden, amber eye anyways? Despite Dijinni's heartless consequence her and Dexter had become more in sync then ever before. He was quiet literally her ears and her eyes.

    On this particular morning she had pawed at the ground a few times, digging up yet another yellow petaled flower before heading out. She soon found herself in Loess, it had taken her alot less time than she thought. When she slinked out of the cover of the forest into the short grassed field there stood a boy she almost recognized from a time she likes to think little of. He was shouting and strutting around, going on and on about being the "king of the ring". Felicity rolled her blue eye, along with her milky white one, in annoyance.

    She crouched into a pouncing position as her tail slapped back and forth against her heels. With a slight tug on her left from Dexter she was off, closing the distance between her and the boy. Her depth perception was not as exquisite as it would of been with two eyes, but a small tap of Dexter's pointer finger she leapt into the air. She knew at some point she would tackle the boy, but a matter of when exactly did not cross her mind until that final tap. She jumped with her claws extended hoping to land on the boastful boy's back to leave maybe at least a couple scratches to remind the boy that he wasn't entirely untouchable.

    As she found herself extended over the boy she pulled her front legs in at the last minute to increase the speed of her spin. As her hind legs pass over the boy she points them towards behind his buttocks forcing her spine to align. At this point she extends her front paws once more, with her claws extended, hoping to grab deeply into his buttock muscles. The added speed to her spin and the force of gravity, if she successfully get ahold of him, should work to her advantage in digging her claws deeply into muscle or at least leaving a pretty long gash before she lands.
    The weather could not be more ideal, he notes as he watches the clouds lazily roll across an overcast sky without the threat of rain. The autumn day is a comfortable temperature that even offers up a nice breeze from time to time, pushing his gold and black forelock from his handsome face. A golden ear swivels when he hears her thoughts, loud and evidently repulsed by his charisma, and he feels a smile pull at his lips. Malone turns his head and spots her among the short, dry grasses with her tail swishing excitedly. He turns his body to face her, sun at his back, and he’s careful to paw the ground as he does so to test his grip on it. It’s rained enough that the ground isn’t slick dust for him to slip and fall on but it isn’t so damp that his hooves sink into it either. He gives himself a short nod of approval as adrenaline begins to pulse through his veins.

    He tucks his wings tight to his sides and lowers his head over his neck when she begins her charge. The moment she leaves her poor hiding place, Malone turns his body left in a tight circle so his hind end is now facing her, allowing him to kick out with his powerful hind legs. She seemed close enough that he had timed it right, maybe a few feet at best, but his inexperience makes him uncertain. Maybe his hooves collide with her face and further blind her or even knock her out cold, or perhaps they find stomach or rib and limit her mobility? There isn’t much time for him to concern himself with how his own attack fares against her when he feels young lion claws sink into his lower leg, though.

    The pain is immediate and merciless but he bites his tongue to keep from crying out. His left hindleg has taken the brunt of the damage while the right is mostly torn flesh. This isn’t as bad as getting caught in the thorn maze in Loess but he’s not eager to put his weight back on his left leg, either. He grits his teeth once his back hooves meet the ground again, just in time for Felicitey to land her second attack on his hips where her claws grip into him. Malone keeps his wings tucked to his sides as he rears up, throwing himself backward to crush her beneath his weight. His hindlegs protest the movement and he’s punished by a new wave of burning muscles. Would her feline bones snap beneath the weight of a yearling? Would her little capuchin live to give her direction still?

    He rolls left, onto his stomach where he stumbles up. Placing weight onto his left leg sends pain all the way into his hips but he forces himself to take a few hurried steps until there is roughly fifteen feet between them. Malone is careful to take ginger, bouncing steps so that he doesn’t put too much pressure on his more wounded appendage. With his back end damaged, he knows he isn’t moving too quickly, and so he turns his body left, facing her once more and protecting his hind end from further assault. His wings are tender from being smushed beneath him but he’s pleased that they don’t ache with any broken bones when they extend over him. He’s not too thrilled with the feeling of his own blood smeared across his hips and legs, however, staining the stars and gold of him red.

    Still, he forces a smile onto his face and a defiant laugh comes bubbling up from his throat. His heart thumps against his ribs as he realizes just how hard he's breathing now. Malone thinks he might like this brawling kind of thing. Starsin will be so thrilled.
    When she sailed over the other boy, he had clipped her in the shoulder making her wince in excruciating pain as she made her landing. She would not be surprised if his attempt had dislocated her humerous from her scapula. The thought lasted about as long as she had to regret the red river of blood she had drawn from the boy, even in mock hunting attempts she had not found the sight, smell, or taste of blood satisfying.

    Before she could redirect herself away from her opponent, her eyes flashed in horror as she watched him lay himself down on top of her. Luckily, Dexter was quick enough and unharmed from the boy's kicking attempt that he could scramble away from her back. His movement and the crushing weight of the colt knocked the air out of her. Her eyes squished shut in pure agony as his weight began to settle. Before he applied all of his weight on her small lioness form, however, her body began to shift involuntarily to her much bulkier equine form. She had been lucky in the last year to grow somewhat into her mother's breed of gypsy vanner. This provided her with a somewhat broader frame than her previous form. The shifting sent mountains of pain through her scapula and chest, but as the boys weight settled she heard a distinctive pop as he unknowingly pushed the dislocated humerous back to its rightful place.

    As the boy rolled away from her she gasped for air through gritted teeth. She could feel the bruising of her muscles already begin to ache. The muscle fibers and connective tissues of her subclavian, supraspinatus, and infraspinatus muscles had taken most of the blunt force of the boys counter attack. Pushing up from the ground was no easy feat as the muscles in her face spasmed with pain.

    When she made it to all four hooves, the simple action of breathing brought prickles of tears to her eyes. As she spread her wings out on either side of her to full wingspan she noted that he must have crushed at least a couple ribs on each side too. Blood, his blood, marbled across her right wing where he had laid on her. Her feathers stuck together as his blood coagulated.

    Her blue eye scanned the area, landing quickly on the golden boy as a rough laugh vibrated through the air. Dexter moved to her left side scrambling to her wing, which only added more pressure to her butchered rib cage. She would not be running around wasting energy or oxygen anytime soon, she thought as she slowly moved towards the boy once Dexter had found his place to guide her.

    A quick tug on her ear and she reared on her back legs, wings extended she kicked out to where the boy stood hoping to make contact with his face. It was only fair that he suffer the same defect she herself had to deal with. She was going for his eyes, hoping to temporarily blind him from impact or at least leave some remnants of debris that had collected in her hooves in his eyes to irritate his vision.

    Her front hooves found their way back to solid ground as she tucked her chin against her chest as she backed up, hoping to avoid any counter attack to her own unprotected face. Her wings folded forward in extra defense as she bit the inside of her cheek to fight through the staggered pain of breathing and moving.

    She liked this just about as much as her first mock hunt with her sister, which was nonexistent. She had never found pleasure in bringing pain to others.

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