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Post by Deleted on May 5, 2013 14:06:59 GMT -7
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She was such a bother, always pestering him. Always demanding things from him, and always off-limits. He couldn't bite her, couldn't kick her. Any strike would be noticed regardless of how well the little punk took it and her mother would no doubt come down on him hard and shred his young body to pieces. Despite his severe prejudices that was one mare he did not want to piss off. His ears turned back at the very thought of angering his leader. A shudder rippled through his dark mahogany colored bay body, shaking the spring flies from his pelt in the process, at the very thought of being on the receiving end of her temper. Necropolis and Immaculate Crucifixion both deserved their infamy well. He had better things to do than have his head cleaved from his shoulders or his heart torn from his chest still throbbing and beating blood before his eyes.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts of the dark and fear instilling images he pawed at the ground, arching his neck. His mane, full of thin braids all stuffed with broken, and whole, bones teeth and claws of various dead critters - most of which had been collected in his own hunting rather than from the already dead - rasped with each movement lulling him into a semi-tranquil state of mind. He needed to be easy minded to deal with this. . . Respira from whom he had attempted to steal. She did not phase the youngster. He had no fear of her, in fact he felt the need to mock her, really. The mare may have made her way among the Helkaers but in his eyes any mare that could flick her tail the right way would have made it among all those lazy boned brothers.
Brothers, right, and he was a monkeys uncle. Snorting hard, the vibrations of his breath twitching and flickering the diamond between his nostrils. Blue and brown eyes studied the ground he would be fighting on and he rose to his full, and still growing, height. He had yet to reach his potential, 8 painstaking inches shy of his adult height and who-knew how many inches shy of the muscular width he was destined to have. . . . well that he thought he was destined to have. He didn't exactly have a thick boned and bodied lineage on hand and conformation made up 90% of ones muscular structure after all. That and his onset of anemia and growing anorexia caused by the vampirism left him looking a little on the trim side, if athletic.
Little twerp better appreciate this, he thought with a glum, moody bitterness and a sigh. Neuraxis needed a new playmate, a chew toy and pet and he had been trying to get one for her, for the sake of his precious, rasping, braid-filled tails longevity, when Respira thwarted his attempts and kept Kumana safely within her enslavement. What did it matter to her if a slave changed hooves anyway? It wasn't as though losing a slave really made a difference in ones strength. After all they could always be nothing but trouble fighting to get free and arguing with you. So why bother defending a slave?
Probably for the same reason possessive stallions defended their own daughters. The daughter was useless to them, genetically, but that didn't stop them from preventing a randy young colt from feeling his oats and up and taking off with the ladies. He huffed, puffing out his chest and pinning his ears. This Respira would learn being a Helkear didn't mean she was anything spectacular ( of course he had thought that Necropolis was nothing spectacular for being a female herd leader until he saw her lands and proof behind the rumors about her but that, to him, was another matter entirely ).
"Well if you're going to protect the little runt then get out here and protect it, Respira because it will be coming home with me eventually." I've got my own runt at home that demands it and heaven forbid I come home empty hooved. He gave a hard snort and flicked his rasping braid filled tail against his hind quarters. One white hind leg shifted to rest on it's tip, the white hairs of his tail turning into a sharp line in the braids as his tail fell to rest once more. The only really indicator on his body that he was anything more than a simple bay - a tobiano in fact - was that irregularly shaped stocking and the marking dribbling from his spine over his tail and down to break just above the stocking. Impatient to get started Nephilim Rising pawed the ground with his left foreleg, the white sock flashing in the deep sunlight. He was not a waiter, and he did not like having to fight a mare. Such a weak opponent, she wasn't even worth the effort in his eyes.
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TWO hits and ONE dodge. FIVE days between posts. WINNER gets to keep KUMANA played by misty
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Name- Nephilim Rising Breed- Karabair x Kinsky x Campolina Age- 2 Gender- stallion Height- 17 hands Alliance- dark Health- 80% - vampirism causing mild anemia & anorexia
"This is his speech"
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The Outsider walks among us
you've got a lot of nerve, but not a lot of spine
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Post by + ebonite + on May 7, 2013 19:54:14 GMT -7
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][bg=091300]respira When you scream it sounds like a lullaby When you beg I get all gooey inside Tonight I take your eyes and tongue To spread the word and watch you come Dawn had come as a disturbing mistress, curling in Respira's nostrils and causing her to quite literally sneeze herself to wakefulness. Blinking her eyes, she glanced around and noted that the fine hairs of Castle's mane had tickled into her nose. She snorted in a combination of frustration and amusement as she watched the rise and fall of his chest as he slept. Castle rarely ever slept due to his insomnia, and she felt herself watching him with a mild fascination, wondering what made his muscles twitch and his vocal cords groan within the depths of his dream. She sighed and rose from her comfortable place on the cave floor, arching her nape and extending her legs to stretch the tired muscles. Her week had been rather eventful, with Corvo starting to show his more mischievous side. Respira had feared that Mansion's bad habits would rub off on his younger brother - especially with the amount of time they'd been spending together. For the first several months, Corvo seemed unaffected, and continued to be the angel he'd been since birth - getting ready for bed when told to, helping out around the lands, and engaging in some mild play fights with his parents. However, lately he'd been outright refusing to go to bed, and had to be chased for half an hour before he would oblige. Respira normally did not abuse her children, but she had hit Mansion when his stupidity had gotten him into a variety of situations where he'd had to be rescued by dear mom and dad. Not to mention, the sheer disrespect, and his complete lack of privacy and personal space. There was no need to mention the situations he'd caught his parents doing - that could be left up to imagination.
She made her way up the makeshift staircase, and into the watery dawn light of Toxin Raj. As with all mornings, fog had descended from the sky, shrouding the land in a soft, surreal mist. She was usually one of the first of her herd members to rise, with Atreyu beating her occasionally. On this particular morning, she could already smell his musky cologne, meaning that he had already been out doing his rounds, and checking the borders for any unwanted and unfortunate intruders. She wondered idly if intruders would be more inclined to leave Toxin Raj alone if they knew there would be a nineteen hand beast waiting to pound their bodies into a pile of mush. A snort of laughter left her maw as she lashed her tassel against her rear pillars. She didn't know what Enmity or Sly were up to. Sly usually had her own agenda, and wandered often, but Respira didn't mind. She was a spy by trade, and she always returned to Toxin Raj. Respira had yet to assign her with a mission, but Sly didn't seem too bothered by this. Perhaps she was more content working on her own. That would change soon, however, what with the war between the Helkaer and the Royals bearing down on them. Enmity also had her own agenda, but it was one of a less secretive nature. A couple weeks prior, Respira had decided to make her title as Beta official. Enmity had done several steals of her own, and had even brought two slaves to populate the cells with - with one of the slaves being pregnant. Caramel and Kumana were the second of a pair of mother and daughter, with the first being Rozene and Suri Keeya. Caramel was a feistier mare than Rozene, which led to her being beaten more frequently than Rozene. Respira felt no remorse toward it - she had laid out the terms to every slave she'd ever had - act up and expect a beating, behave and be left alone. It was simple.
Today however, was a different day. Throughout the week several of her slaves had attempted to be taken from her. The hungry little dogs that wanted so to appease their consciences! As if saving one from slavery would redeem and secure their positions as Lights. However, only one of them so far had decided to challenge her for one of her slaves. This particular potential thief had decided to try to steal Kumana. Why he had decided to steal Kumana out of all her slaves, Respira didn't know. Perhaps he wanted a young one to raise and corrupt, or he wanted to do naughty things to her in the dark. Either way, it didn't matter. As it was, Respira didn't know a whole lot about this particular stag. His name was Nephilim Rising, he was a Dark, and was from Carnevale Letale. Which marked the third time someone from that Dark land had decided to steal from her, despite her frequent attempts at alliances. Three times she had tried to start a slave trade with them. Only once had it gone successfully - and that had been with The Pumpkin King, who was now the most recent member of the Helkaer. A little ironic, wasn't it?
When the sun had fully risen in the sky, Respira bade her farewell to Atreyu. The stallion wished her luck, and Respira accepted it graciously. She knew the herd was safe in Atreyu's hands. The whole herd knew of the battle, so they wouldn't be alarmed if she was gone. The only who'd seemed concerned was Corvo, who'd listened to her explanation with wide, glittering eyes. It was true that it had been a while since she had battled anyone. Her last actual battle had been way back when she'd first became a Helkaer. It had been against a stallion named Lancelot, for a mare she'd stolen called Bronx King. She had won that battle. The battle that had come after that had been against Amaretto, but it had been dropped before she'd gotten any wounds to lick. It had been a forfeit victory, but a victory nonetheless. Respira wanted to carry on this winning streak, and was confident and hopeful that this battle against Nephilim Rising would continue it to three times in a row.
The journey from Toxin Raj to The Battlegrounds took half an hour, even at a swift galloping pace. The palomino Helkaer passed across the border with a sense of familiarity. The lands had the same stench - blood, tears, sweat, victory, defeat and death. Many equines had died here, participating in battles far more barbaric than the challenge Respira was taking on now. Her fight was far from being a battle to the death. She stumbled a bit, one of her feet catching on the skull of an equine long ago killed and buried in the sand. She shook the bone off with a look of mild disgust and continued on, scanning the surrounding terra for her opponent. Eventually she found him, and was a bit surprised at his appearance. Considering his bold nature, she'd been expecting someone a bit ... taller. He stood at a mere fifteen hands, making her a hand taller than he was. Everyone seemed to run tall these days - so it was a bit refreshing to see someone who wasn't a giant making waves around Wild Equines. As she continued to approach him, she noticed then that he was young - quite young in fact. He seemed barely old enough to have sex, let alone fight a battle. What made him think he could take on an experienced Helkaer? He was a boy! "I wasn't expecting a boy." She commented mildly, sweeping her blackened gaze across him. Surveying him. He was quite lean, with long, wiry muscles. Not quite skinny, but he seemed to be well on his way. His lineage was not Draft-like whatsoever, and he seemed to be as light-boned and slim as she was.
'Well if you're going to protect the little runt then get out here and protect it, Yvette because it will be coming home with me eventually.' The colt said to her. She laughed aloud at his comments. Oh, he was adorable! "This young and you're already a cocky asshole." She said, amused. Her flaxen tassel flicked behind her as she took in the surroundings. He hadn't picked a bad place. Hard baked sand, cracked dry from lack of rain. Barely any debris to get in their path. A couple of lone trees bordering around the battlefield. In terms of terrain, they would be evenly matched.
Instead of furthering the banter, Respira instead broke off from the stance of conversation, and instead switched to a more combat friendly mode, twisting her body to face him from the side, raising her hackles, and tightening the muscles in her shoulders. She would take him seriously - even if he was still just a boy. Perhaps he'd grown up training for battles. Or perhaps he was going to take his luck. Or he simply was a cocky idiot who thought it was a good idea to challenge a seasoned Helkaer for a first try. Whatever his intentions were, Respira didn't plan to take it easy on him. She didn't care if he was barely a stallion, he had chosen to challenge her, and he would get the full brunt of her strength and skill.
Battle plans and a whole range of attacks ran through her mind. The weakest point on this stallion would be his neck, face and legs. Because of their height difference, she decided to aim higher on him because that's where she would have the advantage. Reaching lower parts like the legs and lower abdomen would be more difficult for her. Not a whole lot, but she was going to take every advantage thrown at her. Attempting to knock him over and throw him off balance would also be useful. She narrowed her opticals at him before making her decision.
She coiled the power in her legs, and launched herself at the boy. She charged toward the front of his neck, just above the chest. Her pillars thrashed at his flesh for several seconds before she backed away swiftly, returning back to her original position a safer distance away. Her legs tingled with the impact of the attack, and she watched Nephilim eagerly to see whether her attack had landed. She knew that it had been risky, and that his counterattack could have easily stripped her of flesh, but there was no life without a little risk. There was no penalty for experimentation. There was definite potential that she would have given Kumana to him in a proper trade, instead of him trying to steal from her, and then battling over her instead. But, as he had taken the latter - and harder - option, that negotiation was off the table. If he wanted a fight, he would get one. Enmity had stolen Caramel fair and square, and therefore Caramel's daughter Kumana as well. Respira was not one to simply give up what she and her herd members had earned and gained for themselves.
Name- Yvette [Respira] Breed- Appaloosa x Andalusian x Arabian x Mustang x Thoroughbred Age- Eight Gender- Female Height- 16 hands Alliance- Dark Health- 100%
Hits- one two Dodges- one Attacks- Charged at Nephilim's chest in order to knock him off balance, and then thrashed at him with her hooves hoping to cause bruising and lacerations. Injuries - None
status complete muse great count 1827 notes Nephilim wouldn't know her by Respira, he would know her by Yvette. (:
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Post by Deleted on May 9, 2013 1:58:02 GMT -7
test
Yvette had arrived, though she had made no fanfair of the ordeal. The tension in his body sky rocketed from zilch to plenty. His ears turned back and forth as he watched the mare approach him. For the moment she was taller than him, always she would be older but not forever would she be stronger. He was young, still growing, under his prime, and ready to get the little twerp that had instigated him into this mess off his back. His one blue eye exposed to the world while his brown eye remained hidden by his stylized mane he turned to face the older minx his lips curled at her response.
"Much obliged, Yvette. It's quite the compliment you've paid me. I dearly wish I could return the favor however the kindness words I have for you are that you're--" he never got to finish his sentence. She struck out fast and hard, forcing him to double back in a scramble. His eyes widened and nostrils flared. That was a dirty move though he should have expected as much from a mare.
Her charge had been swift enough that his scrambling back did little to save him. Flailing hooves struck out with murderous intent and he reared up, jerking his head up and back from her reach to thrust his chest and legs in the path. It would cost him dearly to take a serious wound to the leg but no where near as dearly as a head or upper neck injury. His forelegs struck out in a counter move and he thrust his own body forward to meet her striking legs. It was painful, flashes of bright white and red rushing through his mind to taint his vision in a claustrophobic syncopy. His maw twisted open and teeth bared at her own exposed flesh. His balance was all but gone; first from scrambling back from her strike and second from trying to counter attack and counterbalance in a rear.
When Yvette pulled away, dragging a trail of crimson from his shoulders on her hooves, he fell forward hard, his hooves digging heavily into the baked, dry earth. Snorting he narrowed his eye and examined the Helkaer he had challenged. Perhaps Kumana was not worth it after all. Neuraxis tended to be fickle, anyway. She could be happy with any other foals, right? Wrong; she had made herself quite clear on this matter. Frustrated he roared a wordless bellow at Yvette and struck the ground with a single hoof. Churning up the earth into a loose sand pile with the appearance of no real use besides wasting energy and buying himself time he watched her, and waited. Blood running from his left shoulder, and hist chest just beside the inside of his right foreleg in rushing rivulets. The single white marking on his front left leg was quickly turning pink and then crimson from the stain.
"I hate paying a compliment to a mare but well played, Yvette. . . well played." the initial flash of pain had faded, dulled quickly to a throbbing, semi-aching sensation that drew a grin from his twisted lips. He dared impair his vision by bending his head down to lick at his wounds, slowly, enjoying the taste of his blood and the painful probing of his tongue in the gashed flesh. He would need to treat her like a real threat after all. How unfortunate for her. He flicked his braided tail, the bones rasping as they shifted in each tiny strand of hair. All at once he was in motion.
His hindquarters bunched beneath him, thick with growing muscles and energy, his body arched forward in a straight line he kicked his hind legs, thrusting himself at the larger mare like a bullet from a gun. An unaimed bullet from a gun, that his. He didn't go directly towards the taller beast and instead dove towards her side. His ears pinned to his skull more to protect them from a wayward bite than to express emotion he placed her in his "blind spot" on his left side, the side where his eye was brown. The side where his braided forelock hung down and swooped back into his mane. The side that could see better than most people believed. He spun in towards her, digging his hooves into the ground and ignoring the sudden pain in his back right leg as he over-turned and hyperextended ligaments and muscles. That would come up to bite him in the morning but for now he needed to concentrate.
Adrenaline raced through his body, pumping his muscles and senses until he was hyper aware and nimble. His teeth bared as he moved in towards Yvette, his head snaking down and out at her elbow, barrel, shoulders and legs as he moved. His front legs tucked under him to allow himself the room to maneuver the sharp turn he was attempting. Just as his chest became level with her shoulder he threw his head up, teeth snapping again at her, clacking with vicious brutality towards her head as he threw his front hooves out. They came up, forward and down in a gesture both intended to capture his weight on the ground and drive into her body, hopefully driving her away from him.
With enough luck he would have done what was necessary to draw blood somewhere along her slick frame. With any true luck he would have done more than rend her flesh and expose her life fluids. He would have dug deep to bone, or torn muscles, or ripped pockets to expose muscles. It would take a great deal of luck, he had seen her speed in an attack. He had not yet seen her speed in a dodge. Could she escape his bold move? His foolish move? He needed to know. Needed to taste her blood in his mouth, see it on his hooves.
Earth rumbled beneath him as he slammed his hooves down, completed his turn on his forehand and launched himself away from her, kicking the loose dirt he had dug up from the ground as he moved. Clouding the air, potentially her lungs and, hopefully, impairing her vision he stopped hard, a length away and turned to face her, breathing hard from his efforts and need. His ears turned forward to listen to what might come next as he watched and waited.
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TWO hits and ONE dodge.
dodge :: scrambled back from Yvettes charge attack one :: reared up to meet Yvettes attack, snapping his teeth and using his forelegs to both sheild himself and strike attack two :: charged Yvette, turned into her body, snapping at her shoulders, barrel, elbow and legs before kicking out with his hooves as he completed his turn and moved back away from her.
injuries :: upper left shoulder - gash reaching down his shoulder from just below his neck to his leg. Deep enough to expose and nick the muscles, will bleed for a while.
lower chest, against the inner right foreleg shallow gash that will stop bleeding sooner but will make walking painful.
- self inflicted :: hyperextended/hyperflexed ligaments in right hind leg from sharp turn.
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Name- Nephilim Rising Breed- Karabair x Kinsky x Campolina Age- 2 Gender- stallion Height- 17 hands Alliance- dark Health- 80% - vampirism causing mild anemia & anorexia
ooc:: I complete forgot he would know her as "Yvette" and note "Respira" I apologize.
"This is his speech"
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The Outsider walks among us
you've got a lot of nerve, but not a lot of spine
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Post by + ebonite + on May 13, 2013 18:00:01 GMT -7
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][bg=091300]respira I'm made of pages Paragraphs and inspirations Paper girl, burn the world I'll pass the flame to you Murder, mayhem, hurt her, hate him Several hacking coughs resounded from Respira's throat as the dust sprayed into the air, covering the atmosphere in a film layer of grim and grit. Through the dust, Respira saw the lashing hooves of Nephilim's counter attack. Respira managed to back up and away from his flailing hooves and the vicious teeth. The uncertainty of his balance made it easier for her to dodge the attack but the tips of his hooves sliced cuts along the side of her neck. The small lacerations stung like fury and she continued to wheel herself backward, even when she herself felt dangerously off balance. When his attack had ceased, she settled back down on her hooves, the dust still clinging in the air. She attempted to glance down to survey the wounds, but they were cut off from her line of vision. Small rivulets of blood trickled down her nape. She twisted her neck tentatively from side to side and came to the conclusion that they were not too bad - irritating and painful, but not life threatening. It took several moments for the air to clear, but even before then, the palomino vixen could smell the taint of metal on the air and knew that her attack had been successful on him. The crimson liquid clung to her hooves and a smirk of confidence streaked her maw for several seconds before she allowed it to vanish. Despite the success in her attack, she still had to anticipate what the boy would do. She had not missed his words in the beginning - clearly he was not smitten with her, 'Much obliged, Yvette. It's quite the compliment you've paid me. I dearly wish I could return the favor however the kindness words I have for you are that you're--"' It was curious that he considered being a cocky asshole a compliment - seeing as Respira had fully intended it to be an insult. Boys will be boys. Respira was interested to hear what he had to say about her, however. What was he going to do, call her a slut? A whore? Weak? Pathetic? Stupid? She'd heard it all. Perhaps she did care what he had to say, but it was only so she could knock it on its ass and show him that calling a mare a slut was far from being the worst possible thing on Earth. Respira was perfectly content with her sexuality and she was not afraid to flaunt any of it. If Nephilim had showed her the least bit of interest in the beginning, there was no doubt that she'd have latched onto it and shoved it in his face. She was used to men paying her compliments, and while her mind might be full of sexual thoughts and intentions, the only man for her was Castle. There would be nothing to change that.
Nephilim seemed to be surprised by her attack and that pleased her. What did he think? That she would some poor old woman who had lost all rigor in defending herself? Pah! She'd earned her Helkaer positions over many times and it was because of her success that he was challenging her now. If he wanted to prove he was better than her, he had a lot of catching up to do. 'I hate paying a compliment to a mare but well played, Yvette ... well played.' Oh? She quirked a brow at him, watching him grin at her. Not only was he a cocky asshole, he was a sexist at that. That made her blood boil all the more. All throughout her Helkaer career she'd had men lining up at her door telling her to go back to the kitchen. There was no reason that she couldn't be just as good as a stallion. "Oh? Because I have a vagina that makes me less than you and your penis? That's an interesting point of view." Her blackened occulars glared malevolently at the boy. Of course sexism wasn't a new topic to her, but what way to piss the colt off more than to claim to know nothing about his beliefs? He would regret paying her any compliment at all - now she would enjoy spilling his blood all the more.
She watched him lick the blood from his wounds for several moments before he'd suddenly turned into a blur before her eyes. The boy launched himself toward her and Respira braced herself for impact - although she was unsure where he would strike. At first it appeared that he was aiming for the front of her, but then he changed direction toward her side. Too late - she had realized that she had taken the wrong defense. Pain exploded in her shoulder as his enamels tore through flesh and vessels. She let out an involuntarily cry - a yelp of shock that quickly molded into a vicious snarl. However, before she was able to counter strike, his enamels bit again - this time into the flesh of her foreleg. Agony raced through her entire body, the muscles weakened by the sudden onset of shock. Nephilim pulled away just as his enamels began to scrap against the bone. Blinded by pain, Respira scrambled away from him, her injured leg and shoulder bleeding profusely - the crimson fluid feeding the barren, thirsty ground. She barely managed to dodge his kick. She watched him back away, but she did nothing yet, panting heavily as agony began to haze her vision. She could have attacked him as he was trying to escape, but making her injuries worse before she even knew the extent of them was foolishness. She glanced down at the injuries, watching the blood pool at the surface. She pressed her tongue to the worst of it, holding it for as long and hard as she could stand. She did the same to her leg, keeping a close eye on Nephilim as she did so. She pressed the leg to the ground, wincing as it screamed in protest. The leg was useless. She would have to manage an attack with three legs.
Her best bet now was to use her teeth to attack or her hind legs. Trying to lash out at him with her front legs was simply not going to work and she wasn't even going to attempt it. She lifted her injured leg back up off the ground, spreading her weight amongst the remaining three. The dust on the ground could be a real hindrance and in that instant she decided to use it to her advantage. Tensing her muscles, she launched herself again, wincing and stumbling as the pain in her torn skin and muscles shrieked at the sudden movement. She tossed her skull, clenching her enamels against the agony, aiming for his injured shoulder. However, at the last second, she feinted and changed directions, spraying up as much dirt as possible as she did so. Her bloodstained teeth gaped for the flesh of his right side now, snapping at whatever she could get at, hoping the most to injure his right shoulder. Her pace was even as she glided down his right side, using her remaining strength to skim the ground as much as possible as she attacked. After she'd cleared his rump, she forced herself to halt. She landed jarringly, her uninjured front leg crumpling beneath her at the unexpected extra weight - unused to the load. She kneeled on the ground for several seconds before she was able to get up. The attack had caused her wounds to tear open again and they bled more heavily than before. She limped back toward her spot a couple of feet from her opponent, her attacks and dodges now spent. Her muzzle returned to her wounds, pressing her tongue to them continuously in an effort to get them to clot. The battlefield was rank with spilled blood and despite the agony and exhaustion, Respira never felt more alive.
Name- Yvette [Respira] Breed- Appaloosa x Andalusian x Arabian x Mustang x Thoroughbred Age- Eight Gender- Female Height- 16 hands Alliance- Dark Health- 70%
Hits- one two Dodges- one Attacks- #1 Charged at Nephilim's chest in order to knock him off balance, and then thrashed at him with her hooves hoping to cause bruising and lacerations.
#2 Charged toward Nephilim and aimed first for his left side before changing to his right and biting at his side for anything she could reach. Injuries - #1 Small cuts on her neck from his first attack
#2 A large gash on her shoulder that's bleeding heavily
#3 A bite mark on her leg that's down to the bone, bleeding heavily and causing a limp
status complete muse great count 1324 notes none
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Post by Deleted on May 19, 2013 22:19:18 GMT -7
Did Fishie ask for an extension to this battle? If not, its been more then 5 days and Ebon with Respira automatically wins.
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Post by Deleted on May 20, 2013 9:48:51 GMT -7
No, fishie did not. Fishie was a moron and forgot to do so >.< oh well It was a fun fight regardless :3
thanks for letting me challenge ya Ebon ^-^
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