Posted by Vurtne on February 3, 2009, 11:22 am, in reply to "Vurtne ; (repost)" Still, even with the rain working in his favor, the chestnut stallion could see little more than that shadow. As the taller stallion skidded to a halt in the mud in front of him, Vurtne instinctively pivoted to the left on his hind end, front hooves slipping for a moment in the sloppy mess before finding purchase and propelling his head and neck away from Fehazathant’s searching hooves. The defense was sensible enough. A horse, when startled in such a fashion, will often turn away to avoid collision rather than rising to meet the challenge presented. Vurtne’s back hooves, still firmly grounded, would turn easily in the soft mud, facilitating his defense. Additionally, with the state of the ground under their hooves, Fehazathant’s stability (or lack thereof) would require greater attention to balance in order to keep himself steady enough to deliver a decisive blow. Ultimately he took the brunt of the attack on the forward end of his right shoulder, the soggy conditions again working to his benefit because his waterlogged skin offered little purchase. That didn’t make it hurt any less. Fehazathant’s second attack was quick in coming, so Vurtne could do little more than follow through with the action to which he was already committed. The circular pivoting motion had already pulled his foreleg well out of reach. Fehazathant’s hooves met the lower curve of his ribcage instead, sending shockwaves through his core as the bones absorbed and deflected the blow. This time he visibly winced; the ribs are far too sturdy to give way under such an attack, especially given the current conditions, but bruises were almost guaranteed and fractures very much a possibility. The chestnut stallion swung his hind end around, still favoring his aching right shoulder. It was but the work of a moment to transfer his circular momentum into a forceful backward kick, aiming with both of his hind legs at Fehazathant’s hopefully-unprotected chest and shoulders. If he reared again, the darker stallion’s forelegs would take the hit, and if he chose to mirror Vurtne’s pivot the kick would still meet the lower half of either one of his shoulders, with possibly painful results. Vurtne’s hooves touched ground again only long enough to gain purchase and stifle a complaint from his sore ribs before lashing out again in quick succession with another lower, less powerful kick, the majority of his momentum spent in the first assault. This kick was aimed at Fehazathant’s knees. It was a simple maneuver with deadly intent. Had Fehazathant chosen to rear in response to the first attack, this one would mean very little (but it wouldn’t need to, for the force behind the first kick would be more than sufficient to dangerously injure one or both forelegs), and had he chosen to spin away, this move would still be aimed to devastate one of Fehazathant’s knees or the leg bones above or below them. Vurtne touched down again and, stepping lightly on his right side, gave his opponent space. His part in this was over.
71.244.13.86
“I worshipped dead men for their strength, forgetting I was strong.”
-- Vita Sackville-West
Vurtne had a slight advantage in that he did not mind the rain. The dampness of his coat didn’t trouble him in the least, and at his lightest suggestion the incessant waters bent around him, leaving his eyes dry and clear. Thus it was that, while undoubtedly obscured to a moving silhouette in the foul weather, Fehazathant was not as invisible as he would have presumed.
water iii
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