Blitzkrieg: HEY NINETEEN, THAT'S ARETHA FRANKLIN [KIVIOQ]

She who faces Death by torture for each life beneath her breast
May not deal in doubt or pity -- must not swerve for fact or jest.
These be purely male diversions -- not in these her honour dwells.
She the Other Law we live by, is that Law and nothing else.
"Female of the Species" - Rudyard Kipling (1911)

Legend needed no introduction as she came to Blitzkrieg. Instantly, the mare went to work.

She plied the ground beneath her feet, coaxed it from hard and concussive to softer, yielding. Her Earth sang about her and she eschewed the bitterness of the wind, eschewed its clawing cold along her backside. She was already warmed up, her muscles supple and limber even in the bitter cold. Kivioq, her target, was not incredibly hard to find.

She picked up a powerful canter, once more manipulating her Element – Kivioq would find the ground beneath him no longer hard, but alarmingly muddy (I think she can do this with her element, if not, let me know). She knew she was cheating. She just didn’t care.

She approached from head on, her canter growing more compact; her haunches coiled springs of power. Four, three, two, one stride – she neatly rose in a half rear, her knees pristinely tucked, bringing her jagged-rock hooves savagely down upon Kivioq’s left front pastern. She may be a two-time trick dog, but she knew the attack was powerful and precise with little repercussion to herself. She wasn’t striking the pastern – she was landing on it. Particularly where the short and long pastern bone met, a joint that could absorb 2,000 pounds of horizontal concussion but unfortunately (but fortunately for Legend) very little vertical pressure, which is what she was applying. Legend, if timed appropriately (and Legend was a persistent creature – if Kivioq moved Legend would follow suit, though Kivioq was battling with footing while Legend was not), would land upon the small joint where the short and long pastern met with over 500 pounds of brutal force. A fracture was inevitable – a bone broken, entirely possible.

And then, to add insult to injury, Legend issued a combo, repeating her previous attack (though this time, her half-rear was significantly smaller), once more slamming down upon the already ruined left pastern joint. If she didn’t butcher it the first time, she must have massacred it the second.

As she landed, she combated the hard footing by once more making it supple beneath her rock-hard hooves. She landed with a heavy oomph, her ears laced back as she stabilized herself. Taking precious time (though Legend was on no time-frame), Legend turned to Kivioq’s left and circled slowly at the canter, her momentum gained at each stride. The circle was employed so she would once more approach Kivioq from head-on. She veered to Kivioq’s right, their flanks rubbing as she passed (and it looked as if she would almost pass Kivioq’s right side without so much as a sideways glance). She snapped her tail, compiled her momentum and issued a titanic, full-barreled kick directed straight for the oblique muscles in Kivioq’s flank. The full-barreled kick was designed to completely rescind the right flank. She would have to contort her body slightly to hit her target, but she would gladly oblige as it would surely leave Kivioq crippled for the remainder of the battle. To evade the attack, Kivioq would have to shy to the left or bolt forwards, either of which would cause him to place weight on his injured left front. Not to mention, Legend had completely cheated by manipulating the footing under him into churned, unforgiving mud.

She executed her final attack with a grunt of effort, bringing her hind hooves once more to the ground. She had forgotten this time to change the earth under her, and the cold, unforgiving soil sent a rush of acid up her hind legs. Gingerly, she resumed her canter, testing her hind legs and once more refusing to face the bitter wind.