Blitzkrieg: WELL I DID NOT THINK THE GIRL COULD BE SO CRUEL [JUDGES]

THE WORD IS TIMSHEL -- 'THOU MAYEST' RISE FROM SIN.

Altair panted, feeling the slow toil of heat work its way into his system. Already a slick coat of sweat adorned his grey features, turning his lack-luster coat a vibrant wet sheen in the sunlight.

This is what he lived for – the adrenaline; the grunt as bodies collided, the paring shots. The pain.

He loathed the proximity. The fire distracted him, worrying his air to no ends. When she approached to attack he pinned his ears, knowing full well an attack was imminent. Rather than idly stand there and allow her full rights to obliterating his side, he shied – succumbing to irrefutable, logical equine instinct.

Flight.

He ducked out to the side, tucking his head as he bolted away from the offensive strike. Her sudden eruption into flames only heightened his intense urge to avoid her at all costs. The force behind her attack would be significantly lessened by the distance he had put between them, but this did not mean her attack bounced harmlessly off of his pelt. Her fiery hooves landed right behind his elbow, striking the thick of his rib-cage where the girth is usually placed. Her fire element made him distracted, and he stumbled as she struck him, disoriented by the superior element.

The pain came immediately, agonizing and relentless. Her two fiery hooves had seared a raw and angry wound in his side, two hoof-print imprints where the girth would be placed. His muscles instantly stiffened, and he moved cautiously and experimentally, testing the destroyed limberness of his side. Movement was painful but not impossible, he was looking at extensive muscle bruising and soreness.

He landed from his stumble, abandoning the grace and poise of before. Now he was thoroughly preoccupied with salvaging himself from any further damage. His movement, particularly his canter, was short and sloppy strided – no doubt a testament of Brisingr’s two well placed hooves nailing his side in the previous attack. Her fire blinded him, disoriented him – and seconds after her hooves hit the ground they cleared again, this time striking at the back of his knee.

Already in flight, Altair had no choice but to continue to satiate his instinct’s overwhelming desire to avoid her, obliging to his natural equine nature of extreme avoidance of pain. He was injured and had little hope of evading her attack fully. Her two hooves came crashing down upon the back of his knee with unerring force, causing a squeal of shock to tear unceremoniously from his body. The tangle of legs caused him to stumble once more, an acidic shock ripping through his already injured flank. His ears laced back and his eyes rolled as he battled the agony that coursed wildly through his brain.

Limping, his left leg rescinded by the blow, he slowed to a hobbling walk, eternally grateful the battle was finally over. Sweat drenched his coat and dripped from his body, and fatigue showed itself by the ring of tiredness under his eyes. He stared at her, offering a non-committal grunt before hobbling back to the shores of Solira.

A L T A I R
AD ASTRA PER ALIA PORCI.
ALSHAIN x GENESIS || AIR III