Blitzkrieg: NO WE CANT TALK AT ALL [JUDGE]

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 felt the bitter wind, tasted cold on her tongue – Kivioq was a worthy opponent, he had done admirably and secretly (though she was too ostensible, too much of a boar to admit it) she liked the fellow Andarin. Besides, it looked like he was another Steely Dan fan.. Instant thumbs-up!

He came to her to attack, and Legend rallied herself carefully, realizing to turn too much was to face the shrieking gusts of wind. While Kivioq just may Legend’s favorite horse from Andarin (well, she didn’t like anyone else there), she unfortunately wasn’t about to let him sneak up from behind (being mareish and all she didn’t like the idea of being mounted). This unfortunately complicated things – the wind was a solid barrier and she had little to do but shy as he snuck up from behind. She noticed the change in his suspension, and being no super-horse, fully expected an attack from the front, surrendering to natural horse instinct and shying away.

Legend, not being as clever as Kivioq, was duly surprised when a torrential amount of pain flared up her right hind leg. His hoof had gone for the most part unnoticed, the only thing that had saved Legend was the fact that she had bolted away from him (and being completely uninjured, naturally swift, and also mending the Earth to suitable tenderness it was completely plausible). His hoof thundered across the flat of her cannon bone as she had been lifting it towards her midstride – forcing the leg backwards and causing her to slip disastrously, splay-legged as she scrambled for purchase. Cheater! she thinks, having expected him to attack her front. It was her own damn fault.

(on closer inspection one would find her right cannon bone looked as if it had been flayed ruthlessly, the flexor tendons cried each time they were used and blood congealed on the spot – the mare was reduced to a 3-legged hobbling horse)

If Legend wasn’t slightly masochistic, she wouldn’t have been a warrior. She would have been a scholar. The pain was terrible, she could do nothing to combat it. But she unfortunately had to keep moving. To trot was too jarring, and she was forced to exercise her injury further at a slow and hobbling canter.

He pulled ahead of her again, and this time, wearily Legend let him; she was beginning to get tired and was fully hurt, let the youth waste his energy. When he slid to a stop to kick, Legend snorted in surprise, her eyes rolling back and head thrown upwards as she attempted to pull herself away from the immediate attack – once more her overwhelming flight instinct grappled her reasoning.

His hoof came into brutalizing, crushing contact with the lower-section of her knee as she had shied Legend was no super-horse, when she shied it hurt her immensely (but really, what could she do, chase away her first injury to execute her second defense perfectly?), she was greatly slowed and hindered by the first injury. The hoof nearly caused hyperextension, Legend had been bolting out of the way (her hind right howling in protest, the cannon and flexor twinging) when he struck her. She knew something was wrong when she couldn’t bear weight.

She slowed to a limping walk, realizing that if Kivioq hadn’t shattered metacarpals, he had doubtlessly caused bone-bruising and significant trauma (if not fracture). She held up her right front gingerly, inspecting it. The pain, was without a doubt, one of the most agonizing things she had ever felt. She couldn’t place weight on it without having to stifle a cry. With a laugh (she's a little crazy I think) she motioned to Kivioq to follow her.

“I think we both need to go see Nyota.”