Blitzkrieg: come hither; ROWAN

Exhilarating.

Adrenaline moved through his veins with rapid enthusiasm as he entered the lands of the Krieg. White fire replaced the pale boys mane and tail. But he notes the silence as it clung to the very essence of the battlegrounds as he came to a holt, observing what lay before him, open and vast. The ground lay cracked at his feet, withered and dried. He knows now, it would have been best to have fought perhaps earlier in the morning. Perhaps when the dew clung to dying grass. But those thoughts begin to escape him. He knows that now is the time, if there ever was any. It takes him a moment as his air swirls around him vacantly, almost empty giving him no relief. The sun held high above their heads, like a radiant lamp.

He sighs heavily into the atmosphere.

His lungs breathe deep the dusty air as his body moves forward. He does not waste anymore time, because time is of the essence, is it not? Each step he takes vibrates within the whole of his body, feeling it echo within his mind. This is his first battle, he is fully aware of that factor, but his opponent may not be. He keeps a cool composure upon his features, and with the next step he pushes off and eases into a jog. The sweat already begins to bend and fold against his skin. His eyes scanning the weary horizon for Rowan, as invisible fields push themselves from the ground, like water in a cascade.

He finds her, Rowan, his opponent, and his yellow-orange eyes lock upon her with a fierce intensity. His speed increases as he runs towards her, and immediately he feels the strength he holds on her, his fire and air serge forward, pressing inside him as he is now upon her.

Immediately he drives himself forward. A display of muscle and power as his weight shifts. Now held upon his haunches as his head curls against himself. His ear pinned against his skull, spittle flaying from his mouth as his body reacts. His fire surges through him, the rims off his hooves blazing. His spine curves as he attempts to aim a ferocious kick to her left shoulder, in order to cause pain and soreness throughout the rest of the battle if not bone-bruising and small tears of muscles and ligaments on the fattier part of the shoulder. If the aim is accurate enough, the fire along with it could potentially cripple her for the time being.

His weigh rockets back as his rear feet land upon the ground, shuffling against the crackling earth. There was no grace, no anything to the landing as dust splayed out beneath him. His wind rushing in an attempt to clear the pieces from his eyes. But there was only pure rawness to it. His head rattles back and forth slightly before he attempts to curl it back into himself like a coiled snake. His breathing already laboring, sweat began to mingle upon his haunches, and across his brow. He moves quickly after he gathers himself, if he ever had time to do so.

But he is agile. And for that he does not attempt to pull away from her, instead he stays close. Quickly positioning his body to hers almost parallel or as much as it could have been. He rocks back easily his weight forced down upon his hocks. The edge of his hooves’ still blazing lightly, the thickness of the heated air curls itself around him he pulls his body up, defacing gravity. His neck released in one movement as he tosses it back and forth displaying yellow stained teeth slapping at the air. His forelegs catching the air as they flay madly at it trying and find the solidity or tissue they seek. Hoping to catch her any where between her jaw and just above her throat latch where the jaw and the neck meet. He seeks the feeling of tearing flesh beneath him, or a gasp for air due to the blow to the throaty area, or bruising muscle.

He is not in the air for long enough, he comes down with brutal force, nose almost touching the ground breathing in the dry earth, leaving his head exposed as he attempts to coil away from her, move his feet in a sideway motion to his left. His breathe hot, as the sun basks high above them, The earth crackles beneath them, dusty and dry. the odd bends of his body lathered in a foamy substance, as he glances around for just a split second watching the nonexistent pools of water bubble around them.

m e m p h i s
fireIII&airI; baraqel&lebanon