The Beginning of the End [Tingara]

[Tiggs]

Warm spring winds were abrading the snow blankets of winter, and his hooves cut with a crunch through the ice crystals that had transformed the snow into hard masses. His coat was still long with winter growth, but rather than his full camouflage, he was visible against the patchy dark ground. He’d chosen this time on purpose. Tingara had once accused him of using the snow to his unfair advantage, and he refused for this fight to be anything but a noble one. He would win fairly, on strength and skill alone.

He made his way to Yarraman’s on his own, having asked Durroon to keep Dilali company until he returned. Dilali did not need to see this fight. He had no doubt it would be a difficult one, but he was confident. He was as ready as he ever would be, so it was now or never.

Standing on the flat above the valley, he looked down into it. There in the valley’s basin was the largest herd in the High Country. The herd that he intended to win. He watched them for a while, letting the wind tussle his mane and tail, to take his scent on the breeze down to them. Only when the first head lifted and turned his way did he call his challenge into the valley.

It was not his usual proud voice. There was no over-confidence, no showiness. He was a dignified challenger, worthy to fight the King, and this was to be the most magnificent fight of his life. Though he refused to acknowledge that he might fail, should that lack of confidence impede his performance, at least it would be known that either way it was the King who was his only worthy opponent.

And so he waited, waited for the King to answer his challenge so the fight of his life could begin.

[tingara]

Moving through the gargantuan mass of horses in the valley basin was the great black stallion who was the King of all the Cascade Brumbies. He checked on all the mares he had amassed over the seasons with due care, all were close to foaling which was a stressful time both for them and him. Whenever a mare left the herd Tingara couldn’t help but get edgy but for some reason today he felt edgy for no apparent reason. No mare was gone yet but still as he moved amongst them the black stallion felt apprehension creeping and biting at his skin like horse flies.

Tingara’s apprehension was not unfounded as it were when one of the mares threw her head up, alerting the black to the presence of someone who didn’t belong. Nostrils flaring, he too threw his head to the wind the pick the intruder’s scent and at once he knew who it was. It was a scent he had come to know well over the last few years and here was Nevada no doubt looking for his herd back. The white stallion’s call of challenge echoed throughout the valley and once it had died it was answered with the King’s own.

Nevada’s call lacked the arrogance it had once had; it seemed he had learnt his lesson after his winter of healing. Instead of waiting for his rival to come to him, Tingara cantered gracefully to meet him, also lacking the haughtiness he had shown in their last encounter. ”What brings you here Nevada?” the black stallion asked respectfully but bared his teeth in warning. If I fight was to come it was not one Tingara was willing to lose, it would surely cost his life if it did.

[Tiggs]

Nevada stepped back from the sloping edge, coming to a stop where there ground was flatter and free of obstructions. His ears pinned to his poll as the black King came into view, but it was the only sign he gave that the two were mortal enemies. He gave the barest of nods, acknowledging the stallion’s title.

He replied with an almost tired voice, older, more experienced, and worldly. “You know why I am here, King.” he said solemnly. “Spring calls us together to fight. If I had not come here, you would have come to me. Durroon is not far to the North, should you need to know when we are done. Dilali is with her. Your sister is well and with foal, so I ask that should you be the victor, that you assure her there is no need to worry herself. I have chosen to fight you and whatever the outcome, it will be just.”

The grey tossed his head, quivering with the thrill. Spring put this rage in stallions so they would fight and win mares, and that was what he intended to do. “This will be our last encounter, your majesty. Only one of us will walk away; I hope your justice will be as swift and merciful as I intend mine. I do not wish either one of us to live in disgrace after this.”

He scraped a hoof on the soft ground, baring his teeth. He was already starting to sweat with the anticipation, and he did not want to be lathered before the fight even begun. “Shall we?” The dignified exchange was almost laughable in terms of what was about to happen, but Nevada was determined that this was going to be the fight that would keep the gang-gangs talking for years. The once rash grey takes on the King. The outcome?; they’d decide that now with teeth and hooves. There was only so much politics one could manage before war was inevitable.

[tingara]

Tingara regarded Nevada’s ears pinned firmly on his neck but that was the only sign he saw of their rivalry. Other than that small showing of animosity the grey stallion was incredibly civil. He was showing the civility of a noble stallion which almost pleased the black stallion to see. It would of if it weren’t for that fact the two of them were about to tear each other apart, bite and tear at each other’s flesh with teeth and hooves.

”Indeed Spring is the season stallions are driven to fight and it seems this season we are no different from the rest. If it is you who falls here today I doubt Dilali or Durroon would welcome my presence especially if they are in foal. I am heartened to hear that Dilali is well, I’m glad she followed you,” he said quietly. Already in his chest he could feel his heart race from the anticipation that alluded to the fight to come. If it were possible, the King felt more nervous than the previous fight; he could die and then Nevada confirmed it.

Tingara nodded gravely at the grey’s words; it would indeed be their last encounter and only one would see the end of it. Suddenly the black stallion was regretting not saying goodbye to Myrrina or any other of the mares for that matter. He lamented at the fact he may not see his unborn children enter the world but there was nothing he could do about it now.

Without answering Nevada’s question Tingara darted forward swiftly and nipped at the grey stallion’s legs. He wanted to make him move, to pick out a weakness to exploit. Maybe there were residual injuries from the other fight, if not he had his speed and litheness on his side.

[Tiggs]

The civility ended, and Nevada reeled back. He tucked his forelegs close and lashed them out as the black passed. The leg that had been lamed was back to full form, though Nevada knew too much damage and the lameness would return. It had taken a long while to heal, and he did not want an injury like that again if he was going to be looking after the largest herd in the High Country.

Grunting, Nevada set his hooves back on the ground and circled with his opponent. Neck arched, crest well defined, he looked well and healthy. It had taken a busy winter of foraging to get back his strength and resolve but the product of his success shone in the glossy guard hairs of his coat.

Rather than playing games, Nevada launched the next attack, kicking out with his hind legs as he passed. The two were evenly matched, but Nevada was acutely aware than the black stallion had more experience. He had to rely on strength and stamina to win this fight against the quick and agile King.

[tingara]

Tingara felt Nevada’s hooves collide with his side and quickly wheeled around to doge the entire blow. The black stallion kicked out at the leg that had been his target last time but he knew he couldn’t dwell on old tricks for too long. Nevada wouldn’t have forgotten them as he had been the loser. The black stallion knew if he’d lost he would have gone over what Nevada had done many times.

This time instead of backing off like he would have done, Tingara barrelled into Nevada. He bucked and struck out until his rump touched the grey’s and his head was alongside his rival’s. Still he bucked and kicked but now he bit at Nevada’s face, above the eyes in particular. He gnashed at and held onto whatever flesh his teeth came into contact with but it was hard as the rest of his body rocked in the motion of bucking and rearing.

[Tiggs]

Nevada managed to knee his legs out of reach by anticipating the familiar move, but he did not expect the King to come in close and use a bullying tactic. Nevada squealed, his knee taking a hard kick which altered his balance. He snapped at Tingara’s face, taking a hard bite about his eye which quickly began to seep blood and cloud his vision. He swung his rump away to avoid the next buck, and turned in to grab at Tingara’s withers. He needed to keep away from his teeth and feet, and holding his withers was the perfect way to accomplish that.

[tingara]

Agilely Tingara stopped kicking as the black and white horses moved together. The King could taste Nevada’s blood and the smell of if filled his flaring nostrils. One of Nevada’s bites made contact on his cheek and stung as teeth pierced flesh. The black stallion snorted in pain and tried to move away from his grey rival. On his way back Nevada caught his withers in a firm hold. Desperately Tingara squirmed and kicked out in an attempt to get out of the white’s grasp. The King snaked his head behind him and bit at whatever part of Nevada he could reach.

[Tiggs]

Nevada held on stubbornly, shifting his weight with each buck so the bite hold kept. When the King rached for him to bite, Nevada thought he was out of range but his girth was broader than he’d thought and the teeth of the other horse pinched his flank. The pain wasn’t enough for him to release his hold, but it was enough to loosen it and that would be all the black stallion would need.

[tingara]

As soon as he felt the hold of the other horse weaken, Tingara pulled himself free but still the action drew blood from his withers. He squealed as he pulled free then wheeled around and made a dive at Nevada’s withers. Just before he grabbed hold of the other’s flesh the black stallion reared and struck out at the white’s back and belly. His hooves flailed wildly as he came down again, readying himself for the hold on the withers. Again it didn’t come; instead he kicked out at his opponents legs to weaken him for the hold. It was only after that did Tingara try and take hold of Nevada’s withers.