Blitzkrieg: OZY'S IN THE HOUSE HE'S DROPPIN PLATES: KURAI (I)

Let's mudwrestle.

Ozymandias had covered himself thoroughly with mud, taking a luxurious roll, oozing even more of his opponent's least favorite element than usual. He almost resembles a swamp monster, stepping above the softening ground, firming it beneath each footfall. As he steps away, each hoofprint reverts to the squelching, miring mud; Ozymandias will not let his advantage aid his opponent.

It is not hard to see (or smell) Ozymandias, but he is still a good distance off when Corpsetouch descends with ruthless greed upon Kurai's black, black flesh. Watching with clinical curiosity, the slimy, mud-caked beast wonders if the lightning stallion will know from whence the festering, infected wounds come; while the nightmare seeks the source, Ozymandias explodes into a canter.

Kurai is light and fast, but the mud -- precious, ravenous Earth -- will do something to slow him down. Matched with Ozymandias's convenient talent to ensure his own footing supports him (as Earth III assures he can) and the ensuing confusion inspired by the sensation of rotting flesh, he is able to gain ground with relative ease, approaching Kurai's left hindquarter from behind. Ozymandias is relatively light on his forehand for a draft horse, his stride elastic and malleable, adjusting to Kurai's movements tirelessly until the red beast can align himself as he intends.

The pain; the scent; the unsettling sensation of maggots shifting beneath the skin; Kurai would have trouble extricating himself from the Earth, encroaching from all sides, in order to evade the approaching freight train of hooves and teeth. Ozymandias is within striking distance, less than a half stride away, and he rears sharply. No sooner are his knees in line with the top of his long-legged opponent's gaskin, he draws back his dark lips and reaches for any skin he can reach, most likely to the left side of Kurai's dock. Equine teeth are not meant to pierce or shred by any means, but their incisors are certainly meant to clamp and pull.

A maggot explodes, juicy and delightfully fragrant on Ozymandias's tongue, and perhaps Kurai lunges forward to evade the hungry bite, leading to perfect presentation of his black hind legs. Ozymandias extends his forelegs, height and proximity sufficient to insure his aim will remain approximately true to the back of Kurai's gaskin. His target is specifically the tibia, which is guarded only by the gastrocnemius (essentially, calf muscle) from this angle. The gastrocnemius allows the hock to lift before it is pulled forward with each stride, and Ozymandias's rock-like hooves have little mercy as they land not only with concussive force but continue to wreck whatever he has connected with as he drives his weight back to the ground.

Another potential casualty of the strike is Kurai's point of hock, or tuber calcis, which is all too easy to fracture, especially on a hotblood so light and wispy. Ozymandias is all too aware of Kurai's other untouched and quite capable hind leg, landing soundly on briefly firm ground before brushing as close as possible to his opponent's rump. Their closeness would cushion any retaliation with Kurai's uninjured hind leg. Though Corpsetouch now fades, the mud Ozymandias smears across Kurai's skin will be another unpleasant reminder to the Earth that attempts to bind and consume him in one ravenous gulp.

Initially, it had been only the mud that slowed Kurai, hungrily holding each of his hooves, and now hopefully Ozymandias's attack will debilitate him further. On solid ground and potentially uninjured, Ozymandias should be able to swing himself parallel to Kurai, never relinquishing the contact of their bodies. Mud smears generously off his red coat, greedy to instead feast on the lightning stallion. Their skin to skin dance is nearly unavoidable after Ozymandias lands from his first attack, and it would allow him to match his opponent's movements, following him should he turn, balk, or bolt.

One, two, maybe even three strides it would take for them to be shoulder-to-shoulder, Ozymandias's weight and presence potentially driving Kurai to bear more weight on his injured left hind in an effort to avoid contact with the dreaded Earth. Once their shoulders drew level, Ozymandias would let Kurai turn away, if he were attempting to; otherwise, he would shift his shoulders slightly to the outside. Regardless, when the angle is appropriate -- thirty degrees would do -- he uncoils into a fierce double-barreled kick aimed for Kurai's stifle and haunch.

The blow is powerful, and Ozymandias will not be picky about where his hooves land. Anywhere on the right side would push Kurai's weight onto his stricken left hind, and any evasion would equally stress that side. Hitting the stifle would be ideal, as most blows to the stifle lead to an unusable hind leg or dislocated stifle, but striking further forward towards the ribs or further back towards the tail would both be equally painful. Should Kurai turn his haunch away, the blow would hit the stifle more directly, but avoid the muscular haunch altogether. Such is the beauty in the give and take of battle.

Now, with his engine at least slightly maimed, Kurai would be slower, and easier for clumsy ol' Ozymandias swamp-monster to avoid. The red stallion is wary, though the Earth still clamors to be fed, as he turns his haunch so that they are closer to parallel as he steps away and awaits the thunder.