Droom. x .Beslou {zomg!}

[withers]

Droom circled around, chest heaving, as he tried to figure out his next move. His torso quivered - though young, Beslou had proved to be quite a challenge. But he was up to it. He was too tired to comment on the way the match was going, but his eyes were lit up with flames as he concentrated on winning.
Honestly, though, he wasn't sure how he'd react if he won. He wasn't that attached to his terra at the moment - he'd come to find he enjoyed smaller spaces, rather than the open plains. So why continue fighting? The answer was pride. Already, Droom had lost a fight, and he was not going to lose this one.

[Swede]

Beslou squealed, eager to get this over with. His leg and knee were throbbing, and he was wearing down fast. With a determined snort, the flashy piebald drove down his head and charged, ears flattened. He bared his teeth, snaking towards the palomino pony, hooves thrumming like war drums. His body plowed along with all the delicacy of a bulldozer, but fancy ways were useless in fights. Strong, swift attacks was what counted. At the last instant, he jerked his head upwards into a rear, attempting to engage Droom into his favorite sort of combat-- one-on-one, rearing clashes in tests of strength.

[withers]

As he had been doing for the entire battle, Droom turned so his rump faced the approaching stallion, looking over his shoulder as Beslou drew near. His eyes widened in alarm as the stallion took to his hind legs, forelegs in midair. He was trying to urge him to fight him head on, but Droom refused; he knew what would happen if he did. Failure.

He was too low to reach the forelegs now, up in the air as they were, so he had to try his attack at a different angle. While Beslou was still in the air, he nipped underneath him and pivoted instantly. He settled his haunches beneath him in preparation for a large buck, but he was unsure of whether he could get his kick in on the hind legs - just above the hock - before Beslou began to fall. If that was the case, he would plant his legs firmly and try to get out of their before he became...ah... squished.

ooc: It's unhealthy for my literacy skills to RP like this. ^^; At least it will be over soon.

[Swede]

Beslou's body came crashing down just as Droom aimed a vicious kick at his hind legs. Oh no you don't, he thought to himself gleefully, jerking his hind leg back. Of course, he hadn't thought this plan out fully, and thus didn't realize until it had already happened that this would result in him losing his balance. His chest came down with a bang on his adversary's back, forelegs caught on one side and neck and head on the other. Sensing the danger of his position, he tried to use it to his advantage and force Droom to go defensive rather than use the piebald's vulnerability to attack. His hooves dug long furrows in the frozen soil as he shoved forward, leveling his head upwards at the same time in order to get it away from the palomino.

[withers]

The pain of the larger stallion's weight resting entirely on his spine was insane, and Droom squealed with shocked alarm as it was suddenly placed on top of him. Beslou was already trying to heave himself up, but Droom quickly realized the golden opportunity this position presented. While Beslou was on top of him, he couldn't attack or defend, and his forelegs were on one side of his torso; his head on another. If he could somehow manage to get in the position where he could deal damage to that one foreleg, Beslou probably wouldn't be able to do anything to stop him.
First, he swung his head around to the side, mouth opening to reveal sharp teeth. He snapped his jaws shut, hoping to have grasped the desired leg in his mouth. If this didn't work, he would roll to the side - though Beslou's weight would increase in that position, his own weight, along with Droom's, would also be bearing down on the two legs.

This fight was ending soon. And Droom's confidence was growing as he assured himself that he could, really and truly could, be the winner.

[Swede]

Beslou squealed in pain as Droom's teeth sank into his cannon bone viciously. With a yank, he pulled away, a trickle of blood running down his leg, staining the dazzling white. It hurt. A lot. Luckily, it hadn't gone too deep, so as to be debilitating, but that didn't make it feel any better. The stallion's ears flattened. Fate had taken Fuego from him, leaving him herdless, and therefore he had little to gain by winning the territory. But for honor's sake, he could not lose out to someone half his size. The idea was ridiculous, and he would be the laughingstock of Sunshine River. Three of his legs had been damaged now- a front knee, a cut above his hock, and now this. Funnily enough, this was easier to deal with than just one, because when he limped on all of them his gait smoothened out. The paint drove his head down, charging at the pony again. Hopefully, he would be able to catch him. "Why don't you face me like a real stallion?" he snorted in frustration. This sort of guerilla warfare did not suit him, not at all.

ooc: How many more posts should we do?

[withers]

"Because I'm not stupid, that's why," Droom retorted, dancing out of the way of the rival stallion. "You know, just as well as I, that when it comes to battling by pure strength, you would be the victor. However, this is a battle of wits and tactics. Do not underestimate me." With those words, the palomino stallion spun around, pinning his ears back flat to his head, and began to canter. He was surprised when his stride faltered - apparently, a stallion much heavier than you slamming down on your spine could cause a bad limp. Oh, well - he wouldn't let himself be stopped. Though he had a limp, if he managed his leads correctly, he could still be as fast as he'd ever been, and so continue keeping out of Beslou's way.

Droom stayed put, head held high as he surveyed his opponent. He reared up, for the shortest of moments, and charged at Beslou. Hopefully, Droom could fool him into thinking he would face him head-on, and if Beslou reared again, Droom could circle 'round him and knock his legs out from under him, hopefully rendering him unable to battle.

ooc: I dunno.. two-four. ^^; I want to end this quickly... I still plan on Droom meeting your welshies. -huggles Igraine, Canisp, and Mearad- XD

[Swede]

ooc: canisp might die, be warned... which would make Igraine mad with grief, and Maerad swear to never do anything in life but take care of Igraine. Then again, Canisp might not die. Who knows? If I can kill off enough characters elsewhere....

Beslou lowered his head, squaring off his stance. Battle of wits? Not his type. But if Droom insisted, Beslou would try. And he would not fail. And if this was a battle of wits, then no doubt the palomino had something tricky up his sleeve. And Beslou intended to not allow his adversary to carry out an such tricky plan. The paint made sure to constantly face Droom squarely, following his every mood. He had fallen for too many dirty tricks, and it was time to change that. A hoof scraped angrily on the ground, and he snorted. What was he playing at?! Beslou could not stand this sort of warfare, it was driving him insane.

[withers]

ooc: No muse ><. I'll see if I can post after my other chars.

[withers]

Droom charged straight for Beslou, ears pinned back. His sides heaved, flanks coated with sweat, as he took aim. This fight had been going on for too long - he was exhausted. In fact, he wasn't sure if he could keep this up much longer. He might have to lose his place in the Fields...
A lack of emotion surprised him. Did he really not care about his territory? Well, of course he did, but not enough to risk his own life battling for it. His lead mare.. he wasn't even sure if she'd stayed, he'd left her alone so long. He almost wanted to just give up the territory to the stallion.

As he neared Beslou, Droom slowed, then pivoted on his front hooves and shot his back hooves out, letting out a final buck in hopes that this time, they would connect with Beslou's forelegs. If not... the palomino wasn't sure what he would do. Give up? Possibly. It all depended on this move.

[Swede]

Beslou's knees buckled in front of him. His legs hit the ground with a solid thwack, jolting his bones. With a heave, he got back up, but with little energy. Fighting was all well and good, but since he lost Fuego he had little reason to win the territory. And it wasn't worth losing health over. He reared, hooking a leg over Droom's back, but it wasn't comfortable on his knees and he backed off. This was not going to be easy on his pride... "Do you wish to call it a draw, neither are losers or winners? That way, we can both keep our pride, health, and you can keep your territory. I'm sure I can find something more to my tastes anyway. What do you say?" Hopefully, the answer would be yes; Beslou couldn't go on much more. But if no, he would force himself to fight. He could not stand the thought of losing.

[withers]

Droom opened his mouth to refuse, then paused, pondering the stallion's words. "That's a good solution," He decided, "but I'm not keeping my territory. I don't think I have my lead mare with me any longer, not after my long absence, so I will leave my territory. You're welcome to it, if you want, but the Fields just aren't for me." Having come to this decision, Droom let down his guard and relaxed.

"Very well, I accept. A truce it is." The palomino briefly touched his muzzle to Beslou's in some form of friendliness. "You will make a very good fighter one day - well, actually, you already are, but that's beside the point. Perhaps we'll meet again.. but hopefully, not as enemies. Goodbye!"

And so, the palomino stallion cantered out of the clearing. He was ready to rest.
Ahh... it's good to be free.

[Swede]

ooc: no muse to reply. Locking.