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Post by Tiggs on Sept 9, 2008 10:13:17 GMT
Gathering tension in his limbs, ready for the Black to come, Nevada gave a hard snort at the sound of the colt's challenge. The thing was most definitely the Black's son, in colour and in soul. If there was any part of Dilali in it, Nevada hoped to find it when he gave the foal a good scare after he'd finished with the Black who was almost in striking range. Putting his full attention into the fight, Nevada was glad he had left Brael somewhere far away where she couldn't interfere this time.
The Black reared, but Nevada was ready. Expecting an attack, he lunged back and ducked his head out of range. Pivoting on his hind quarters, he tried to get his shoulders out of the way so the downward cast of the Black's hooves would have no target. This also put Nevada in prime position to buck and kick out at the Black's head and chest when the momentum of landing caused a slight pause before the next move could be made.
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Post by Illu on Sept 9, 2008 10:48:51 GMT
Garrong had seen this coming, which was exactly why he usually never struck first as a rule. Disaster was looming in front of his eyes before his feet even hit the ground. Lamely, he made a good shot at dodging and it came too late, Garrong wasn’t built for deft movements and he only had enough time to tear his head up out of the way before a set of light grey hooves smacked him square in the chest. The blow had hurt, he could feel that even though adrenaline had already done a solid job of blocking his pain receptors.
His best shot was to rear up and strike again, though as he lashed out at Nevada’s rump with his forelegs once more, he realised that the white horse would easily just leap away from his current position, and if so, Garrong was quite happy to give chase and try and show off the full force of his teeth.
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Post by Tiggs on Sept 9, 2008 11:22:15 GMT
Nevada gave a satisfied grunt as his hind legs hit their target. Using the kick to get some forward momentum, Nevada dashed away as soon as his rear legs hit the ground. Expecting another attack but not so soon, Nevada made a squeal of surprise as the Black's teeth bit his rump. Bucking out again but not with the same force as before, he tried to warn his enemy off. The bite stung and wound leave a mark, but was hardly a crippling shot. Nevada wanted to get himself in a position where he could grab a hold of his opponent's withers, but should he turn now, he would have to brave getting his own withers caught or a hefty kick or shove to the side.
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Post by Illu on Sept 9, 2008 11:36:45 GMT
Ha, the tides were turning. Taking his opportunity, Garrong stuck Hotly on Nevada’s tail and was just about to launch another snap at him when Nevada’s heels came up a second time. It was a narrow miss and Garrong took the hint, slacking a little bit and changing strategies. In a flash he took a run at Nevada, coming from the right to try and have a go at Nevada’s withers or force him into a confrontation. Either one was good, Garrong suspected he had the stronger blow judging from the last battle, though that was starting to be thrown into doubt and Nevada was definately quicker on his feet. Better draw him in hard and fast and not offer the grey too many chances of slipping away out of range.
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Post by Tiggs on Sept 9, 2008 12:50:01 GMT
Pleased that the black had heeded the warning, Nevada glanced back to see the other stallion rishing in for another attack. Remembering the damage the black had done last time to his withers, Nevada reeled into the attack, hoping to glance the Black's attack off his shoulder and leap in to grab his withers instead. Should the attack go well, Nevada planned to keep himself out of range while maintaining a good grip on his enemy's withers.
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Post by Illu on Sept 11, 2008 15:05:41 GMT
Nevada's plan worked, though probabaly not as well as he would have liked. Nevada's change in stratergy caught Garrong unawares and the black had slowed up a tad in uncertainty before reaching Nevada. The white was getting harder and harder to see as the snow kept building up on the ground and he decided he'd be safer slowing up than rushing to meet whatever it was that was comming.
Suddenly, he spotted an opportunity and was about to bite hard into the whites flesh, only to have his front hoof land on a crooked peice of ground; the fresh soft snow had completely covered it. Suddenly Garrong almost tripped over, shocked, and was forced to let go, leaving him defenceless in the split second it was going to take him to recover.
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Valatone
Inactive
Lions and tigers and bears, OH MY!
Posts: 335
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Post by Valatone on Sept 14, 2008 21:39:57 GMT
Kinta was irritated. Geez, how come everytime they went somewhere, she and Garrong were interrupted? And now Nevada had come again. And now Dilali had suggested that the....thing of hers was the son of her Garrong. No way. Well, ok, maybe way. But still, it had her blood. She certainly didn't want Pirilah near anything to do with that stubborn mare, crying over nothing.
She fallowed Garrong out to where the fight was taking place and stood back to watch. She saw Garrong trip- oh no, he wouldn't. He was too good for that. And besides, he would win again...right? Kinta wasn't so sure this time, but she pretended to be and told herself over and over again, He's gonna win again!
Pirilah wasn't too happy either. She'd been taken away from her play friend. Of course, she didn;t know who the hell he was, but she didn't care either. Kinta didn't want her there, and now they were watching the big black fella' fight the big white fella'. Who was the big white one?
She'd learnt to be cautious around the big black. Pirilah didn't understand he was her father yet, but something told her that he was important.
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Post by Tiggs on Oct 7, 2008 13:24:33 GMT
With a loud squeal of triumph, Nevada grabbed a hold of the Black's withers and held on tight. He pushed his chest against the Black's side using the strength in his hind quarters, wanting to keep his opponent off-balance so he'd have no chance to retaliate with a kick. With his grip on the Black's withers, the grey shook vigorously to add an extra imbalance to the Black's position. He felt sure that any time now, the Black would fold and give an opening for him to land some crippling blows. Dilali and Baramay were almost his!
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Post by Illu on Oct 8, 2008 9:54:42 GMT
Notgoingwellnotgoingwellnotgoingwell.
Just as he was about to catch his feet Nevada was suddenly out of nowhere and had him. Each time he tied to leap forwards or push back Nevada kept manageing to put him off balance. There was no winning this battle now, if only he could get out of the infernal white horses grip he might be able to get away.
Things continued in this fashion for a while until the bigger horses strangth finally gave out. His withers felt like they were on fire and blood was dropping all the way down his shoulder and leg until it mixed in to die the snow pink and the mud a ghastlier shade than before. Finally, it was becomming obvious that Garrong wouldn't be able to fight back even if he had the opportunity, everything he had was going into just staying up let alone escape.
||OoC|| Copout post. ||
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Post by Tiggs on Oct 21, 2008 10:39:43 GMT
Lathered from sweat, the effort of keeping Garrong in a wither-hold for so long catching up with him, Nevada finally lost his grip on the Black. With his jaw now aching from the strain, he couldn't bring himself to take another hold but thankfully, the Black seemed exhausted enough already. Steeling himself, Nevada reared and landed a solid kick on Garrong's shoulder. With a squeal that sounded more like a snort. He reared and lashed out again. If the Black could fight back now, he'd surely possess a stamina Nevada would never be able to beat.
Snapping his teeth, Nevada pulled in a deep breath and called victoriously. Mustering the strength he had left in his wavering muscles he began to drive the Black away from Baramay and Dilali with feinting kicks and bites.
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