Don't go quietly[open spar]

[Archibald]

[All general spar rules apply. Magic allowed, your decision because Archibald doesn't have any. Hard-packed dirt clearing surrounded by towering trees, no defined area in Helovia. Daybreak, the sun has yet to crest the horizon but everything is starting to lighten.]

The massive creature stood like stone in the clearing. His body didn't move at all, no tail twitch or ears moving. Archibald looked like a statue, and the stoic warrior could easily be one. His breathing was calm, his rib cage barely moving with the natural action. His eyes watched to trees around him, nostrils flaring as he took in the scents. His muscles twitched for a fight, and as a warrior in a herd again he needed to keep his senses sharp.

Taking a couple of steps forward the stallion turned to his left, circling the clearn. His hooves made dull thudding sounds against the hard-packed earth. Frost from the night clung to leaves and random blades of grass, frostfall's touch was barely here. He liked this, the crisp morning air stinging his nose as it filled his lungs. It was perfect fighting time. Rolling into a trot the warrior returned to the middle of the circle, throwing his head into the air with a loud, booming call to anyone to fight him.

[179 words. Sorry I suck at openers.]

[Smoke the Wild Rose]

A bellow of challenge, come and fight, shattered the stillness of the pre-dawn air. White edged ears flickered in response to the sound, dark head rising to face toward the source with keen interest. It was not the sound of a true challenge, merely someone seeking a good fight, but it interested her all the same. A drowsy chirrup rose in question from the warm dragon coiled upon her haunches, but he woke fully when she touched his mind with wordless explanation. He too was willing for a scrap.

She turned and trotted through the lightening darkness, weaving through the looming tree trunks with quiet grace until they came to a sharp end, defining the circumference of a clearing floored with hard dirt. In the center of which stood a massive stallion, darker than she but marked in white at face and leg. Nostrils flared as she took in his scent, recognizing the smell of the Foothills. One of her warriors then, perfect. A low whinny escaped her as she stepped from the underbrush to approach with even strides, head held high as she assessed him. It would do them both well to take the measure of the other, so long as he didn't get any 'bright' ideas from the results of this spar.

"Well met, warrior. I shall spar with you, and my dragon shall accompany me. We shall refrain from magic and fire this morning, for a spar is not so serious as a true fight." A fair warning for him, to have some idea of what to expect from his opponent and her bonded. The blue flung himself into the air as her voice fell silent, and the pair waited for the dark stallion to make his move. He'd wanted the fight, he could start it.

[299 words, intro. Chose no magic but dragon use, no fire breathing. XD She doesn't want to maul him like she did Ricochet... and you can start the fight unless he wants to chat a bit first.]

[Archibald]

The giant's call didn't go unanswered, and a brief jolt of happiness for the impending fight surged through him. Although his happiness faltered when a mare stepped through the trees. Her scent was strong and matched his, she was a dominant aura in the Foothills, and he let his head dip in a natural gesture of respect before it rose again to show his own power and dominant nature. It was not like Archibald to feel superior to mares by nature--he listens to his mother faithfully and even in the Foothills he is under feminine command--but something about this mare and the way she spoke to him made a little thorn dig into his side.


The mare looked so frail next to his behemoth body, mostly because it wasn't hard to do so. Most looked small compared to the giant, give maybe his twin and Casimir, two horses with their own extensional height. Rolling his shoulders back Archibald transferred his center of gravity, lowering his back legs he pushed himself forward. The Clydesdale thundered forward, lowering his head level with his shoulders he tucked his neck and drew his ears back. In three quick bounds with his long, heavy legs he was close enough to the mare to attempt a strike. Sliding into a stop the stallion let his back legs take his weight while he struck out to the right of him, a strike not really aimed for anything but hoping to land somewhere on her body. His first few attacks weren't meant for anything but to see her reactions and get into her motion as a fighter.

Archibald wanted to be in her head, he didn't need words--he wasn't much of a chatter box.

(297 words. | He ran forward and stopped when he reached her, letting his back legs brace his weight while he struck out with both of his front hooves. Attack aimed for a vague area of her body, too high for legs and too low for her face.)

[Smoke the Wild Rose]

Approval brushed through her as she watched him bow his head in a respectful gesture, though she was not entirely comfortable with how he resumed his towering, dominant posture immediately afterwards. He was silent, watchful, so she returned the favor and fell silent, watching him in turn attentively.

He rocked back before lunging forward, and she shifted her weight back as well, head dipping slightly as she prepared for the sudden, explosive movement that she had in mind. Forward he came, one stride, two strides... he was fairly quick for such a tall, heavy horse, but not as quick as Smoke. Abruptly she flung herself sideways and forward, head and forequarters swinging to her right while her hindquarters uncoiled to fuel the motion. His third stride carried him across the final gap toward her, and she wasn't surprised to feel his shoulder thump against her hip. What did surprise her that he was in the middle of stopping.

White edged ears angled back in momentary confusion, for she had expected him to seek to employ his greater height and bulk against her. Their brief collision had thrown her still-moving haunches farther out to the right, but not nearly as much as she'd anticipated. Yes, she'd done this on purpose, waiting until almost the last moment to dive out of the way and to his left. She wasn't stupid enough to actually close with such a behemoth. Out of the corner of her eye she could see his powerful forelegs rise and strike out toward his right, away from her, and she snorted softly. Somehow she suspected he was testing her just as she meant to test him.

Very well then. In the heartbeat after it took her to make these swift assesments, she took another stride forward with her already present forward momentum. Then she braced her hooves against the hard-packed dirt and flung her hindquarters back at him, paled heels lashing out at his left elbow but content with potential strikes against foreleg or barrel. No sooner had her hind hooves touched ground than she was rocking her weight back again to whirl upon her haunches, grateful that the solid ground below was favorable to such twists and lunges. This time she turned her body into him, staying close to his side while her teeth snapped at his left hip and forehooves raked at his left hind leg. While he was taller and heavier, that greater mass would make it more difficult for him to turn in upon himself to get at her in such tight quarters. In the meanwhile she meant to reap the benefits of her greater mobility and cling to his 'blind' spots.

[447 words, 1/? (how many posts do you want to do? 2, 3?)
Dove to her right, his left, and dodged his kicks but got bumped by his shoulder. Kicked at his left elbow before turning into him and biting at left hip and kicking at left hind. Essentially right next to him with her hindquarters by his shoulder and her shoulder against his barrel]

[Archibald]

She was quick, her body outmatching his when it came to sharp movements and speed. Archibald already knew that, he was a draft horse--built for strength and power; speed was not always an issue for him. It was a weakness that was overpowered by his strengths, that was when he got hold of his opponent.

He noted her movements, her quick dodge of his fore-hooves, and her strike back against him. He let his body dig deep, his center of gravity dropping to hold his balance as he swung his hip slightly into her, making a twenty-five degree angle instead of standing directly parallel with her, using his weight to hopefully push her balance. Her hooves thudded against his heart girth area instead of her intended shoulder attack, and he responded with a snort. His muscles tensed as she shifted, her mouth going out for a bite as her front hooves rolled out at his back legs.

Moving outwards, Archibald swung his hips deeper into Smoke, again throwing his weight at her, feeling pain down his back right leg as her hoof scraped over his gaskin and hock. Turning the twenty-five degree angle to that on ninety degrees he prepared his new attack. Tucking and dipping his head, Archibald balanced himself with his front, pillar-like legs and kicked up his back end in a controlled buck. He aimed for her head, hoping to rock her jaw and move the mare away from him.

Still being young, it was surprising how Archibald fought little off of instinct and more on his training. Mandrake was a skilled fighter herself, as well as his oldest brother Wilder, and the two drilled him his entire life. It was Archibald's mission, to become the greatest warrior he could--to protect and to serve.


[308 words. 2/3 -- three posts is good for me =D | Her first strike hit his heart girth, a minimal strike because of his movement away from it. He angled himself so that his hips rolled into her more and his shoulder was no longer touching her. He tried to move his weight into her, to push her back and maybe compromise her balance by widening their angle even more. He bucked then, kicking his back hooves in the direction of her head.]

[Smoke the Wild Rose]

He knew what he was doing, she had to give him credit for that much. He had training, and she suspected he was used to over-powering his opponents and not giving them the opportunity to land any blows, judging by his lack of scars. That was something she didn't possess in return, but her wits and determination had served her well in the past, and it would do the same here.

His body shifted toward her as she moved into him, pushing his haunches toward her even as her hooves landed. Two could play at that, and she allowed his push to drive her back to her right, pivoting around her haunches even as his came after her. Their nearness allowed her to see how his weight shifted toward his forequarters and his head began to bow, and she scrambled to pivot farther before those massive hooves flew. When they did, they passed so near her head that the breeze of their passing blew her mane into her face. So very close.

A mental whisper triggered her new attack, but one completely different from what this stallion might expect. From the slowly lightening sky plunged a dark arrow, wings tucked close to streamlined body until nearly the last moment, when those wings snapped open and taloned feet extended. With any luck Zaffre's full weight, slight as it was, would slam onto Archibald's black haunches just as the stallion's back hooves would touch the ground again. Barely would his weight have settled before Zaffre would take off again, intentionally heedless of his talons while his broad wings would beat against the wide rump of the stallion. If he missed, the little blue would swerve away and glide rapidly off across the hardened ground before disappearing into the tree shadows.

Meanwhile Smoke whirled about on her haunches, an abrupt one eighty meant to draw her opponent's attention and give her dragon time to attack unnoticed. As her right shoulder drew even with Archibald's left, she hesitated only briefly before rearing, giving herself just long enough to find secure footing. Seeking teeth snapped at neck and crest before a forward lunge offered the opportunity to bite at the side of his face. As her body came back down to earth she leapt forward with an explosive burst, keen to avoid giving him too much of an opportunity to bear down upon her. Circling out and around she watched and considered him, weighing her next action on whether he pursued.

[416 words, 2/3
Pivots to the right away from his haunches as he swings them toward her, and just barely misses getting clipped by his kick. Signals Zaffre who plunges down with the intent of slamming onto Archibald's haunches and then taking roughly off again, plans to veer off if he misses. Smoke performs a roll-back as Zaffre dives, then rears to bite at Archibald's neck and crest, and lunges forward mid-rear to bite at the side of his face. Takes off to circle around as soon as she comes down again to try to avoid him getting a hold of her.]

[Archibald]

I will get to this as soon as I can. I am all sorts of stressed out with the end of the school year coming, and it is draining my muse. It will come before Monday, though, I promise.