[Deleted]

Name- Erathel/Lethare
Breed- Fjord
Age- 6
Gender- Male
Height- 14 hands
Alliance- Light
Health- 100%
Rules - 2 hits no dodges. 5 day posting limit. No word count. Winner gets Typheia played by Fishie.


Sunlight broke above the jagged horizon, chasing away the raven tones of the ink stained sky, littering the massive flats within brilliant shades of apricot and salmon, allowing their pastel colors to gently flutter away, replacing them with a powder blue feel of the heavens. The effects of winter were slowly beginning to wrap their cold, cruel fingers into each and every individual landscape, starting at the tallest peaks to even here. The flat, parched landscape seemed as normal as ever, though the oxygen that seemed to be blasted from the coldest depths of the mountains in the deepest snows possibly imaginable. It was hard to imagine that this same place could be such a sweltering wasteland, with the feel of the icy chilled fingers ripping through even the lone beasts thick mass of fur. Coming from the top of the Verai’s home, the cold was nothing new to him, he had grown accustomed as well as his body adjusting to accommodate for such measures. His frame had grown a thicker coat, though still showed the summery feel, it was slowly beginning to grow the fluffed out appearance for winter, thickening with each new day to help shield him from the cold arctic like winds that blew across the landscape. In the early morning light, there was a more subtle edge about the domain that his crimson tinted pools gathered before them, slowly retraining the information that they processed for his cerebellum. The chapped crust did not seem quite as daunting, though the stains of crimson life force seemed to still scream from those that had given their lives here, those that had fought and lost and paid the ultimate price. High above, the masked shadows already began to float above, rotating in slow, daunting circles, their wings spread wide as their gnarled heads cocked side to side, beady onyx pools grooming the lands carefully, waiting not so patiently for their next meal. Thick cords rippled to life beneath the short steed, as his limbs carefully executed the simple commands given to them through his dome piece. One, two, one, two. The simple beat was an even, smooth rhythm, as there was not an ounce of hurry upon his movements, roughly crafted crescents plopping down upon the cracked landscape in small plumes of dust, swirling around the oddly marked dun pillars. Joints collapsed together before pulling apart, following the normal movement that propelled the steed forwards, easily drawing his frame to the designated battlefields, to prepare for his upcoming battle.

He couldn’t say he was exactly surprised about this current challenge, though he himself had initiated it, but the reason for that was because of recent happenings. He had begun to take in herd members, welcoming in any that were willing to live along the guidelines of the Versai as well as to help spread their word, and in the process had gained a member known as Typheia. However the stags knowledge of the mare stopped there, he had only just recently met the damsel and was in the process of getting to know her. He knew she had wished to stay with him, though her mate, the stallion whom he was meeting here today, wanted her to live with him. Erathel had given her his blessing, seeing no harm in her staying with him so long as she followed his rules and it was her will. Though it seemed her mate had other opinions of the matter, and time and time again had tried to steal his mate back. Erathel had done what he felt necessary as a lead in blocking her, however when his back had been turned Ra’zac was much more crafty than he had originally given the stallion credit for. When he had heard of the success of the raven toned brute, he had instantly challenged, not because he didn’t want Typheia to be with her mate, but because Typheia had expressed that she wished to remain within Lone Ridge Creek. Thus the prior events which drew the fourteen hand fjord brujan from his homeland, which had drawn him to the land where steals were conducted, and thus here. He had not bothered to go home, he had not bothered to deter. He had wanted to be the first upon these lands, he wanted to beat Ra’zac. Not because he found himself better, but because he wanted the time to relax, time to think, the time to allow himself to mentally prepare for the battle. And so far it seemed he was able to do just that. Cords rippled beneath his cream toned hide, allowing for him to shift beneath himself as his joints came to a locked position, forcing himself to brace into a halt, locking his pistons into a straighten position and relaxing his frame once more. Nasal passages flared, giving only the faintest trace of a plume in the chilled morning oxygen.

In one, simple fluid motion the steed relaxed his frame, letting his limbs go completely lucid except the strings within his boa. Smoothly his chin was drawn inwards, brushing the velvet skin against the base of his larynx, as golden lids fluttered closed, the jagged line where his locks would normally be stood erect, maneuvering only to flex with the curve at his poll. Harks flattened against the base of his nape, as his thoughts were slowly consumed with the upcoming battle. He let several strategies slip through his think box, however he would not fully be able to coordinate his mission until the ludicrous bastard showed his ugly mug, only then would everything be figured out. Time, patience and strategy.

STATUS: complete
WORD COUNT: 940
MUSE: decent
MUSIC: none
LYRICS: none
TAGGED: snowy/ra'zac
NOTES: sorry it died at the end =P and good luck <3

[Deleted]

▹Though the new sunlight stretched out from over the horizon with welcoming arms, there was no sense of peace to be brought on the dawn's chariot. Warmth had since fled, the chill of the incumbent winter's approach having long clawed its tracks through the northern winds in recent weeks, tearing into flesh and bone with gnarled hands and giving no respite to the victims in its path. Within mere days perhaps there would be snow covering most of the entire lithosphere known as Wild Equines. The grass beneath his scythes was already brown and beginning to stink with the faintest scent of decay, and above his visage hundreds of leaves danced through the clear periwinkle tainted atmosphere like puppets on a string, their paths and destinations completely dependent on wherever the breeze decided to rest them. A miserable existence if he'd ever known one. And one he would never allow himself to fall to. Frigid whips in the guise of a soft caressing zephyr dug through the onyx depths of the Morgan's thick winter wrappings, pricking over each nerve receptor and sending painful stings to assault his brain. It was at instances like this that Ra'Zac missed the sweltering hellhole that was Morgana's biosphere more than ever. Under the shadow of volcanic ash and soot there was no winter or chill to be concerned with. It still amazed him how he'd not gotten used to all this even after all the twelvemonths since he'd upped and left that life behind.

▹Now life was different. In his leave he'd had to deal with a lot more than what he'd originally expected. It only made him ever more disgusted about the cloth he'd been cut from; the way he'd been raised. Under the prison of volcanic smoke and harsh mountain ranges Ra'Zac came to realize he was more or less spoiled. Whatever "training" he'd been subjected to would not help him here. It was only embarrassing that he'd had to learn that the hard way after jumping from embarrassment to embarrassment. First with the witch known by Immaculate Crucifixion - Widowmaker, Bitch Extraordinaire, whatever the Hell she wanted to call herself - and ending most recently with his strike against the Regina known as Reth, each one worse than the last. He took it well though; bitching about it wouldn't get him nowhere in the end so might as well move on. But through it all there had been one major thing that chained him. One thing he couldn't let go off, what he absolutely had to possess. He'd nearly killed himself reaching for it, sometimes having it just out of reach like a carrot on the string, being pulled away just as he closed his fingers around it and could finally grasp it. Other times it'd seem so far away he'd never reach it again. It had been madness, it had been torture, it had torn him apart and pieced him back together, and its name had been Tainted Love, the Dark Queen herself.

▹ That was the Hell he'd lived in for so long. And that was why he now made the trek from the confines of the White Barrow to face a Versai in what would be a battle he just couldn't afford to lose. As sunlight further banished the darkness and shadows the beastly hessian stepped further through the silent ruins of Mage's homeland, dark lanterns glowing with an almost hellish flame. The rage that had overcome him from before was gone, but the traces of his righteous fury still scored through him and boy did it burn. The faintest of mental commands had all four of his columns moving in graceful locomotion, propelling him further and further towards what would be fate's playground in a matter of hours. But before the fireworks could begin he had to make sure his own little harem was safety tucked away from sight. Mage was trustworthy but Ra'Zac had handpicked these women and guarded them possessively. Sentinels swiveled left and right to take in the twilight songs, nostrils sucking in the cool air and voids taking in his surroundings with acute attention. Butterfly Effect was somewhere around from the scent on the wind, the pretty little number he'd plucked from Dark Woods quite a while ago. She was labelled a slave but in all honesty Ra'Zac let her do what she wanted in White Barrow. He trusted her not to run. Electra was the same; he'd attempted to take the woman from under Baron's nose once, only to find she was free as a bird and no longer considered as belonging to Baron's homelands. Either way it didn't matter. The minx was his now along with her child and Ra'Zac planned to keep it that way.

▹ The only one of his harem that he truly worried about was Eros, the queen of the Versai he'd snatched just for the heck of it and the only one he truly considered a slave. He wouldn't put it past her to make a break for it first chance she got. That was why the moment he caught her he'd not let up on the security around her. Even though she was his, she was the Versai's queen: Mage wouldn't let her escape so easily in Ra'Zac's absence. Lithe figure stalked forward with grace, nostrils flaring out in a content sigh. His harem was secure in trusted hands; they'd still be here when he returned. The Morgan czar kept his pace slow and relaxed as he aimed for the borderline that separated White Barrow from the outside world. He wasn't in any hurry; taking his sweet time to sip the fresh water from one of the open crypts he came across in his trek and stopping a moment to scratch his wither upon a crumbling headstone set upon by overgrown ivy vines. If his lack of speed irritated Lethare then the Versai could take his tiny ass and bitch to the world about it. It wouldn't change Ra'Zac's pace any. Skin trembled over sinewy muscles in a full shake that cleared his thoughts of anything beyond what needed addressing. And that included the very thing he was set to defend his claim on.

▹ Typhiea. The woman vexed him like no other and after so long she was finally in White Barrow with him. Lethare had guarded her fiercely but like any lead will do he had dropped his guard and Ra'Zac took the chance offered. But the reunion with his bride was not joyous. The very sight of her had both horrified and infuriated him. The alabaster lamps that had once glowed at him with a tempting light were now dark and sightless, decimated by the daggers of an assassin. He needn't ask her who'd done it. It was no secret that his passion for her ran deep. There was only one bastard who would dare to touch what was his in such a way. But then that little upstart of a fjord came barreling in and his vengeance on Baron was put on hold. Although he'd prefer tearing into Baron's hide Lethare would make a good punching bag before then. After all hadn't the Versai been responsible for Ty's well-being while she was under his care? A fresh wave of fury overtook him at the thought; his barrel expanded and contracted in rapid pace to draw enough oxygen in to sooth his flare temper. It'd do no good to get all upset now. All frustration was better off taken out on Lethare and Baron for their trespasses. By fate's will he would have his nymph with him in White Barrow by the end of the day, though for Lethare… Well, people die every day right?

▹ A good hour since he started his leave saw him at the eastern most border of White Barrow. Scarred silhouette stilled while the ebonite serpentine twisted around to bring the ornaments that decorated a nearby gravestone into view. Ra'Zac chuckled as he remembered the poor fool this set of remains belonged to. Some idiot who thought he was all that but ended up on the dinner table of one of the cannibals roaming around White Barrow. His screams had echoed for miles and his skeleton now served as a reminder for what awaited any upstart that tried to claim this medium for themselves. The memory triggered a thought: he wondered if he should offer any of Lethare's remains to Ty as a gift after this was all over. She did love bones after all. Appraising the setup of remains one last time with an appreciative eye Ra'Zac gave a dark laugh before setting off again. This time his pace picked up to a thundering canter, gait eating the earth with steady strides. Stained threads and plume flew behind him like royal banners set to announce the presence of a king. Crown held high and proud as he kept his trajectory firmly set. He'd traveled so many times to the battlefields he didn't even have to think about where to go anymore.

▹ The closer he came to the war zone, the quieter it got. Songbirds ceased their carols and trees became scarcer. The context of the area began to change, first subtly then drastically. Grass receded to give way to cracked and scarred soil forever void of water's presence. The beat of his canter now echoed in the emptiness surrounding him, bouncing through his harks and mingling with the sound of his breathing. No longer did leaves dance in the sky to dress winter's breath, but rather carrion birds carried themselves in the vastness of the heavens, taking wing on the squalls when the bones of the weak and the broken were all but picked clean. Death and decay assaulted his plush, so familiar yet so new. But there was a scent here that didn't belong amongst the realm; one that was neither dead nor stressed. One that would soon at the very least come within a hair's breadth of joining the ranks of the deceased by the time this was over. Canter broke into a full gallop as the flame of rage grew, control on it all but snapping and virile physique lengthening with each elongated stride. Lobes plastered themselves upon his poll and all his brawn tensed preparation. He'd not waste lyrics on this. He'd give no warning. If Lethare wanted Ty then he'd better be ready to go through Hell and back to take her. No pussy footing around the bush and no stalling.

▹ Ra'Zac was no going in blind in this for once. And he'd not be going in half-cocked either. Ty was something he couldn't afford to lose just after getting her back, especially in her current condition. So as he ran, he plotted. In size, Ra'Zac had a slight upper hand in brute strength, but just barely. There wasn't that much of a difference between 15.2hh and 14hh. In breed Ra'Zac had the advantage of versatility; he had no formal training but if needed he could perform tight turns and agile leaps. Lethare however was probably to be surefooted and sturdy. Age gave no clear advantages to either; they'd lived almost exactly the same amount of time on this mortal coil, neither too old and weak nor too young and inexperienced. Both were in top physical condition and ready for the rumble. Or at least Ra'Zac was. The Versai's scent grew stronger. His pistons shot faster. And then a creme figure on the horizon caught his gaze. Enamels gritted together harshly and curtains drew Ra'Zac's visors to slits. Lethare's figure grew larger as he ate at the distance between them. He didn't stop, didn't hesitate. Velvet kissers drew back over sharpened fangs with a thundering battle cry. He didn't stop, and he didn't hesitate. Quick as lightning he shot past his rival's left side, front pillars locking tight to cut a sharp turn that had him skidding on the barren field and his entire figure back to face his rival. He lunged for Lethare, careful not to fully expose his stomach in a rear but letting his front talons leave the ground high enough to strike for the Fjord's vulnerable poll bone and wither points. One good strike there and this entire affair would be over and done with.

▹ Coming down from the attack he curled his lips from his enamels and stretched his jaws wide. If he missed his intended target he'd at least try and tear a good chuck of meat from the Versai's back. Give him something to remember him by and make him think twice before challenging for what wasn't his to begin with. When his shanks hit Terra firma again he bolted for the right, attempting to keep the distance between him and the Fjord small. Pearls gleamed white in the sunbeams and nape arched towards his chest threateningly. Wild orbs locked onto their target like cross-hairs. Your move Versai...

===

words: 2247
muse: utterly excellent
music: none
tagged: @shorty w/ lethare/erathel

name: Ra'Zac
breed: Lippitt Morgan horse
age: 5½ Years
gender: Stallion
height: 15.2hh
alliance: Dark
health: 100% Physical // 100% Mental
rules of the fight: Two hits, zero dodges. Victor keeps Typhiea, played by Fishie.
time limit: Five days.

attack(s): TWO ONE
[1]. rushed by on lethare's left side and turned to attack him from behind with an attempted strike at the thin poll bone on the back of his head and attempted to bite his back on his descent from the rear.

injuries: none yet received.

[Deleted]

Name - Erathel/Lethare
Breed- Fjord
Age - 6
Gender - Male
Height - 14 hands
Alliance - Light
Health- 80%

Faint traces of other battles could be heard, the screams of opponents clashing together in the heat of the moment, climaxing for the very prize they all seemed to be after. There was a mingled sense of curiosity that flattened itself within the jumbled thoughts of the dusted brujan, as lashes brushed against the base of his wide set cheekbones. Catching himself mildly wondering what could have drawn each individual from their homelands upon the very same fateful day to battle at each other as he would soon be doing as well. He had only been drawn to these borders once before, once more by his own will and chance, however his opponent had been a bit more of a shock compared to this one. No from the little information he had gained about the raven toned beast known as Ra’Zac, the stallion was a troublemaker, seeming to enjoy the time he gained within these very borders. He had been nothing but a headache for the primitive marked steed since the damsel Typheia had asked for refuge within his homeland, seeking solstice within his harem. Erathel could not possibly wrap his mind around the fact that this Ra’Zac fellow did not seem to understand that Typheia was not within the borders of Lone Ridge Creek against her will, she had wanted to live with him, asking for a place to live willingly, he had merely blocked her in a sense of duty. It was this same sense that had brought him forwards, drawing him from the crevices within the lands that he had marked as his homeland, his turf, in order to face up to the ignorant bastard, the same feeling that drew him to the battlegrounds, to prove to this air head of a mongrel that he was only doing this for the will of the lady. Windpipe rippled beneath the succulent flesh that coated it, as a sigh pressed through his soft, charred nasal passages, exiting his frame in a small gust, a tiny plume of smoke that lingered only the fraction of a second before dispersing, making one wonder if they had even truly seen it in the first place.

Time seemed to pass by slower than usual, and the steed allowed his pools to open a fraction of an inch, taking with it the scenery around him. There was still no sign of his opponent, not even the faintest trace of scent or the sound of approaching daggers to alert him of the oncomers presence. Perhaps the steed had decided he was not going to go through with the battle after all? The thought brought a slight annoyed feeling to the brute. Though he was marked a Versai, as well as brother that never played with that of the darkness, he could not deny the primitive outlook that his manhood provided him. There was the simple arousal of a good fight that stirred deep within his bloodstream, as if the synapses within his nervous system seemed to heat with anticipation. The cords that were so well drawn out beneath his golden and charcoal stained pelt clenched with the prospect of getting a good workout in once more. He would not deny the basic instincts that rippled within his fourteen hand frame, he was male, that was what males were bred to do. To fight, to defend. His gaze smoothly peeled itself from the back side of his eye caps, allowing himself to clear his vision lightly. There was a low, constant hum upon the horizon, a sudden sound that was no longer something familiar, but something new. The sound steadily grew, as the producer slowly grew closer and closer, until the audible placement of each dagger could be physically heard once more. Attention was drawn forwards, as lobes pulled into the direction, and as if his frame was connected by a string, his cranial followed in a single fluid motion, untucking his chin from the succulent flesh upon his napestry. The onyx hued flesh of the steed appeared upon the horizon, seeming to grow quicker and quicker, as the beat grew louder and louder. It became evident to Erathel from a distance that this brute had no intentions of stopping, no intention of formalities, but rather to get straight to work, to get this battle fought and over with. Erathel couldn’t say he blamed him, the reasons for Typheia wanting to stay with him rather than be with her mate had confused Erathel himself, so he could only imagine how her mate himself would feel about the entire situation.

Lobes plastered themselves against the base of the behemoths cranial, as his cherry toned pools locked upon that of the oncoming figure, joints fused into place as cords braced against the impact that he was sure was to come. However as the onyx brute sped past him, the baritone was caught off guard, quickly trying to catch himself he pivoted, snapping the majority of his weight backwards upon his hind pistons. Clavicle was lifted up into the topography, swinging his thick set frame in a one hundred and eighty degree turn as the brute came face to face with his attacker. Ra’Zac had lunged and in the process of Erathel’s turn, he found himself face to face. Given no option of dodging, the stud felt his opponents daggers slam into his bosom, while his ivory enamels latched upon the flesh of his napestry, tearing away the delicate skin that covered the fused muscle. Pain seared through the robust steed, as a bellow of anger shot from the base of his voice box. Primal instinct seemed to engage, adrenaline released through his thick bloodstream like a drug as the cranial began to shove forwards upon the steeds frame. Charcoal velvetines peeled back to reveal the irregular row of topaz stained enamels, extending outwards towards any form of flesh that could be torn away from the beast that had caught him off guard only moments before. Using the brute force that his sturdy frame could manage to conjure upon his hind limbs, he rocketed himself off the ground, almost awkwardly, as he aimed to shove his mass into the lighter built behemoth to unbalance him, if not cause him to stumble upon his way back upon the topography. Gravity eventually pulled the steed back down to the topography, as he quickly shifted his frame, bringing his gaze to lock upon the onyx brute once more. He did not bother to spew any lyrics at the mutt, for he had nothing to say to the mongrel, it would be nothing more than a simple battle, that was it. Daggers pressed down into the chapped crust once more, as the steed prepared himself, waiting for the rest of the battle that would ensue.


STATUS: complete
WORD COUNT: 1132
MUSE: was good but died
MUSIC: random pandora
LYRICS: none
TAGGED: @snowy with Ra'Zac
NOTES: none
ATTACKS: One Left.

oo1. Reared to upwards when he realized Ra'Zac was attacking, tried to bite any part of Ra'Zacs neck while using his weight to try and unbalance Ra'Zacs landing.

DAMAGE:

Serious bruising to his left shoulder and chest from getting kicked as well as a jagged tear down his neck where Ra'Zac tore his skin off.

[Deleted]

▹ The moment the two gladiators clashed was one Ra'Zac knew intimately well; the time when colors and shapes merged into blurs too distorted to identify and all background noises were muted out by the racing of one's own heartbeat. The little shit had gotten lucky, twisting around as he'd done. When Lethare lifted upon his own hinds it put them face to face, inky voids staring into vivid crimson. The new position taken by the smaller czar caused the assassin's daggers to miss their intended target but there was still damage done. The bitter taste of copper exploded over his tongue in a vicious wave, the sick feeling of tender flesh giving way under the sharpness of his weapons tapping at the small part of his brain that remained aware of what was happening. Strange how these Versai thought themselves above so many yet they tasted just like any other beast walking this mortal coil. A splash of scarlet flew past his right globe, the force of his attack sending his opponent's lifeblood over his cheek to stain his features like war paint. Everything moved in slow motion around him, mere seconds passing by like centuries. Lethare's bellow slowly came into focus, ringing in his lobes like a siren, his only warning for what was to come.

▹ The Versai that dared to attempt to take what was Ra'Zac's lunged for the ebonite beast's form, weight and flashing ivories taking up all of Ra'Zac's vision. Dodging was out of the question, it was just too close, and soon enough the familiar flash of pain struck him hard. Lethare's bodice slammed into Ra'Zac's, the force knocking the wind from the beast's lungs in a great 'whoosh' as the cut of teeth tore into the side of his nape far too close to his jugular for comfort. Had he been in a full rear he might've been tossed on his ass; thank whatever deity it was watching out for him that he'd decided to use only a half-rear for his attack. With a great gasp and a stagger backwards he managed to recover his sense of balance and breathing pattern easily, slamming his foretalons back to Mother Earth before another attack on his person could be made. The second his front had returned to the roof of Hell was the moment time seemed to kick-start itself back into gear; as Ra'Zac's figure moved to the right of the Fjord he took a second to examine the current scores of the clash and re-think his approach. Again, he claimed that Lethare had gotten lucky. Had his initial strike hit home there was a good chance the Versai might've been down one member and Ty would've gotten her pick of the carcasses' skeletal remains. In all honesty Ra'Zac knew his beloved Queen was in the Versai's lands of her own free will... because as far as he remembered he'd agreed to it last time they spoke. His so-called "attempted steals" of her had merely been unscheduled visits; Lethare could believe what he wanted, but that's how it was. It wasn't until he discovered her completely blind that he'd decided that she didn't belong there. If Lethare was so lazy as to not defend her, Ra'Zac would relieve the bastard of the job. It had only been temporary to begin with in the first place.

▹ A snort passed by charred nasal passageways as muscles pulled his form further, pistons stretching over the ground and twisting him closer to his rival. He didn't look at the damage done to his person, that would require taking his gaze off his rival a second too long. Ra'Zac had been in so many battles now he knew how many injuries felt; a trick he'd learned pretty early in his time in WE. The burning sensation he felt every time his ribcage expanded and contracted usually signaled bruised ribs, the feeling too mild to be a fracture or full break but just harsh enough to make breathing harder. The skin of his nape felt ragged and stung against the wind, and he swore he felt the slightest 'flap' of something against his serpentine: apparently the flap of skin that had been bitten still hung by mere threads. Unnatural heat flowed from his wound and down his chest and down his right pillar to stain the earth beneath him, droplets being flown left and right with the force of his momentum. He didn't give his injuries anymore thought after that. The location of the bite injury was discomforting but it wasn't serious; Lethare had missed Ra'Zac's jugular by mere inches. Bodice twisted towards his rival again then, lobes disappearing into the sea of onyx that splayed itself in the wind. Ra'Zac's furious scream rang over the battleground like a crash of thunder, velvets upturning once again to reveal the ivories that were stained in Lethare's lifeblood. Ra'Zac had missed his target last time; he'd not give Lethare the chance to move out of the way this time.

▹ The ebon demon's next target would not give off any deadly results but if he hit it right it would forever hinder Lethare and give him permanent damage. Stretching his boa out he made a bee-line for Lethare's right hind cannon bone, his maw parted wide with the intent to destroy whatever lay in his path. He doubted he could break the bone if the attack connected but at the very least he could tear a tendon or give the little Fjord a fracture. It was a dangerous gamble in of itself, putting his crown in danger's way, but for the moment the reward outweighed the risks. As he made for his first target he angled his silhouette alongside Lethare's and struck out with his back limbs, talons aiming for whatever they could around Lethare's crown or withers with the full force of his strength behind them. Ra'Zac dearly hoped he could give the little fool some brain damage or at the very most knock some sense into that thick skull of his. The war between them was winding down; his chances of giving this Versai a lesson he would do good to not forget dwindling with each minute passing. He vaguely wondered how all this would go down with Ty in the end. And why the hell this Versai was even playing this game with Ra'Zac to begin with. Were Ty and this Versai close? Was there something Ra'Zac had missed? Or was he just too blind to see the beautiful monster Typhiea was? His cannibal Queen might claim to be light, but even lights had a dark side...

===

words: 1159
muse: pretty good
music: none (unless you count a new episode of 'hawaii five-0' as music xD)
tagged: @shorty w/ lethare/erathel

name: Ra'Zac
breed: Lippitt Morgan horse
age: 5½ Years
gender: Stallion
height: 15.2hh
alliance: Dark
health: 83% Physical // 100% Mental
rules of the fight: Two hits, zero dodges. Victor keeps Typhiea, played by Fishie.
time limit: Five days.

attack(s): TWO ONE ZERO
[1]. rushed by on lethare's left side and turned to attack him from behind with an attempted strike at the thin poll bone on the back of his head and attempted to bite his back on his descent from the rear.

[2]. got in close to lethare's right side and attempted to bite his right cannon bone while aiming a kick at his head with his hind limbs.

injuries: mild to severely bruised ribs from where lethare slammed into him and a badly bleeding bite wound on the right side of his neck just mere inches from his jugular with a flap of skin hanging off.

[Deleted]

ooc: shorty? it's been five days. do you wanna continue the thread?

[Deleted]

haha wow... I totally thought I had another day e.e xD
Um.. Wanna say a default for you to win and come up with a plot?
My battle muse kinda hit the drain with all that I got going on xD

[Deleted]

well, if that's what you want, okay. <3 i'm fine with whatever you decide. x3 whether that's ending the fight here or lengthening the time frame. <333

[Deleted]

I just eh.
I wanna start getting the rest of my charries active.
And the battle posts are taking away from that.
So maybe we can figure out some sort of plot when Fishie is able to come back?

[Deleted]

sure, okies. <3