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Current Novus date and time is

▶ Year || 502
▶ Season || Fall
▶ Temp || 35℉ (℃) - 69℉ (℃)
▶ Weather || The heat of the summer has begun to wane and cooler weather is spreading across Novus. Frost glistens in the morning light of some regions and the trees have shed their lush shades of green for those of red and orange. It is Fall now, but winter will soon be fast upon its heels.

Spotlight

Character of the Season
Eik

Member of the Season
Katherine

Thread of the Season
A Midsummer Night's Dream

Pair of the Season
Acton and Bexley

Quote of the Season
"If Reich had been the gunsmoke, Rhoswen was the gun - their youth swayed like washing in the wind, peaceful and unassuming, as though if they tried hard enough they might be able grab hold of it. Wasn't that the deceit of peaceful things? They drifted like butterflies just out of your reach." — Rhoswen in she was always meant to be a star

see here for nominations


DISCORD

All Welcome - threnody
Maxence — Guest
▶ Played by [pm] Posts: N/A — Threads:
▶ [] Hth:Atk:Exp:
▶ 501 [Year ] Active Magic:
▶ hh Bonded:
#1


Blessed are they who stand before
The corrupt and the wicked and do not falter.
Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just.








An unknowing king stood in darkness and shadow as the soft blush of morning tinted the dunes. Maxence's vigil had begun in the early morning, only allowing mother moon and her stars to stand watch over him as he gave his wishes and threnodies to Solis. Today he was to hunt a beast he'd never laid eyes on, never heard it's cry, never smelt nor beheld even a single trace of it's being - it seemed an impossible feat to the commander of only sixteen hands and a few extra inches. Surely this great beast was revered as an 'elder' and called a Teryr for a reason and, while he did not wish to chance his death on one more badge, he also did not wish to lead the Solterrans to slaughter. 

Wisdom demanded that they find another way to elect a leader. Seeking out a fight with one of the largest and feared beasts on the continent was foolish to say the least, though what kind of flaccid prick would he appear if he demanded the hunt called off mere minutes before it's first hulloo? It was the people's choice - it would proceed. 

and so he watched, he waited, keen eyes of a drenched sea scouring the desert for any sign of the others joining the hunt. With no weapon at the ready and no less than his harness to keep his hide from breaking in to two, doubt continued to challenge his flourishing heart. It would never overcome - his chest of gold was one not so easily usurped, his resolve hard to strip. 



THE TERYR HUNT BEGINS
Next round the Teryr will appear! It will begin when everyone's replied, or on the 20th



Seraphina — Day Court Sovereign Signos: 3,805
▶ Played by Jeanne [PM] Posts: 230 — Threads: 38
▶ Female [She/Her/Hers] Hth: 17 — Atk: 23 — Exp: 50
▶ 4 [Year 498 Spring] Active Magic: N/A
▶ 16 hh Bonded: N/A
#2
An elder teryr, eh?

As far as Seraphina was concerned, this was hardly unexpected or out-of-the-ordinary – not necessarily hunting a Teryr for what was, objectively, sport (they generally only hunted ones that had made themselves a menace), but deciding a leader by combat was hardy unheard of in the Day Court. They were a people that prided themselves on their military strength, after all, and though she had to internally debate the wisdom of placing an individual in power on strict basis of their brute force, Seraphina did not argue with tradition or law. Today they would decide upon a Sovereign, and, by extension, determine the character of the court for the length of their reign. If she should be expected to feel the weight of history bearing down upon her, she felt nothing at all, save for the sharp prick of the heat that was only just beginning to rise with the dawn – it cast everything in sharp hues of blush pink and starry violet, obscuring the violent reds and oranges she expected from the Day. She wove her way through the Elatus briskly, tracing down familiar pathways and lingering in the shadows as much as possible. (For once, her sleek silver coat was unmarred by the mess of sweat and sand that usually clung to it like a cape. She seemed strangely neat.) It did not take her long to find Maxence, stiff and solitary among the monstrous canyon walls. It seemed (rather disconcertingly) that none of the others had arrived yet.

She cleared her throat on her approach, not seeking to startle the other warrior. “Solis willing, with our numbers, we’ll likely end up with a few broken bones at the worst,” She said, casting her gaze to the canyon behind her, “…assuming that the others show.” Seraphina had only fought a Teryr once – it had taken several of the Court’s most experienced warriors to take the beast down, and she still shuddered to think of all the damage it had caused in the process. She had no interest in leading the Court and had only really arrived to provide her assistance during the hunt; it didn’t seem as though the election would be much of a contest at this rate. She felt something akin to a prick of pity as she turned her mismatched gaze on Maxence, considering that it was entirely possible he’d never seen a Teryr, much less fought one – she imagined that would be the case with most of the Court, and, a bit awkwardly, decided that in spite of her own relative inexperience at Teryr-hunting, she could offer a few words of wisdom. “Your wings will be an advantage, if you can outmaneuver it in flight or get it grounded...it’s a dangerous game to play, though. The teryr will likely be larger than any of us, and you are the only one with wings if it decides to fly. It is smart to go for the neck, to try and snap it– if we can pin it down or break its wings, that will likely be the easiest way to dispose of it. They are clumsy on the ground, but they have long reach, and their bites…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “They strike fast. So long as we have the numbers, though, we should be able to keep it distracted.” Seraphina glanced over her shoulder again, braids thumping softly against her neck.

“Solis keep watch over you, Maxence. I cannot say I envy your position.” It did not seem as though the stallion had intentionally wandered into the position of impromptu leader – and the favored candidate for the next sovereign of the Court, from her observations – and the Teryr was a dangerous creature to face unprepared. Seraphina took her place in the canyon, eyes cast to the skies, and prepared to wait.



this is exciting <3


BECAUSE MAN'S FIRST WORDS IN THE FACE OF GOD
are always "forgive me"


please tag Sera! contact is encouraged, short of violence





Avdotya — Day Court Commoner Signos: 10
▶ Played by Kay [PM] Posts: 86 — Threads: 7
▶ Female [She/Her/Hers] Hth: 15 — Atk: 25 — Exp: 34
▶ Immortal [Year 494 Summer] Active Magic: Earth
▶ 15.1 hh Bonded: Feliks (Borzoi)
#3



A V D O T Y A
SHE WAITS; SEETHING, BLOOMING.



It had been a long while since Avdotya last found herself in a pack-style hunt- in fact, it may very well have been her days of training that served as her most recent bout with allies at her flanks. The mare recalled those times with an almost wistful sigh as she wound through the dusty pass, her legs carrying her instinctively as her mind uncharacteristically wandered to the past. For a flicker of a moment, her heart yearned for the Davke, though the moment seemed to pass just as quickly as she could blink those amber eyes. Now was certainly no time to reminisce about the past, it was actually quite the opposite: Solterra's future sat in the grips of what this day had in store, and ultimately that would have an impact on her life whether she harboured interest or not. Perhaps, for her own benefit, she invest herself in what was to come.

With renewed focus and dangerous swagger in her stride, Avdotya eventually found her way to the location of their gathering. She could see the unmistakable pair of painted wings that she knew to be Maxence's, along with Seraphina at his side sharing last minute words of wisdom. As the grey mare finished up, Avdotya pulled up with her eyes straying to the sky. She offered no words, only her presence for the first few moments of her arrival. Her senses were on high, tuned in to their surroundings as if the bird were to appear before them from out of thin air; this was the environment within which she thrived, although the anticipation was something of a bother.

Her eyes finally drew upon the two to her side. "Elder Teryr," she said with a nod, "thrilling choice." Her gaze only lingered for a second longer until Avdotya reached down to ensure her spear's place in its holder- it would not be long now for its time to be unsheathed, a moment the woman could not help but delight in.



party tiiiime~


☀︎

You shall find that pretty rose vines are just as lovely
when they wrap tight around your limbs and shatter your bones.


Bexley — Day Court Regent Signos: 535
▶ Played by REDANDBLACK [pm] Posts: 217 — Threads: 22
▶ Female [she/her/hers] Hth: 21 — Atk: 19 — Exp: 42
▶ 5 [Year 497 Spring] Active Magic: Light Manipulation
▶ 15.2 hh Bonded: N/A
#4


[Image: 500_by_memuii-dbfxt60.png]

" BEXLEY BRIAR "


The canyon is a beast in Bexley’s eyes as much as the one they are about to hunt. She’s avoided the imposing walls of the area as much as she could, uncomfortable with the press of impending claustrophobia, but now her only choice is to face it or look like a coward, and besides that, it’s not even close to her biggest problem anymore. Screw this stupid canyon and what’s waiting inside of it. Aggravated but unwilling to show it, Bexley picks her way down the rock wall with carefully-placed steps and resigns herself to appearing confident. Some government this is. A pack hunt can’t possibly showcase the qualities a leader really needs, everyone should be able to see that, but no, apparently this is how this Court is operating now, on stupidity, and blessed by recklessness. Those bone-white teeth grind behind closed lips. Bexley, turning the gears in her head manually, covers her fear with anger. Her derision of the campaign has so far gone unvoiced, but it can’t be too hard to sense, even with her mouth kept, always, stubbornly shut in the presence of her fellow Court members. 

Elder Teryr. Bexley feels her newness keenly as the name rolls around in her head. What the hell is that? The name implies something huge, horrific, and Bexley, though generally overconfident, is on the edge of a panic about how she’s going to survive it. But no one can know. She’s managed not to ask any questions, not to belie her fear, and she’s sure as hell not going to start being vulnerable now. Although her body tingles with patchy adrenaline, and her heart pounds like a wild thing against every wall of her chest, she attempts to focus on the clenching of her jaw, the spray of sun against her back, the idea that she may escape this alive. No one can know. This is what she breathes, eats and sleeps.

A small group comes into view. Maxence, Seraphina, her almost-rival-but-maybe-inspiration, Avdotya - a grimace crosses her face. It’s not even a little unexpected, not with her luck, but she can’t help feeling a little slightly. Bexley slows slightly, collects herself. BREATHE IN DEEP. Her head roils with thoughts that, as they come, are pushed to the side, desperation and stubbornness parting that tide. Her descent is made deliberately. Steps placed with purpose, expression held evenly, muscles tense and carefully collected. She make an effort to turn the silk-blue of her eyes as hard as they’ll go, to glass, to flint and steel. You can kill it. Kill it.

Kill it. Laszlo’s bleached skull echoes like a drumbeat in her head. For once Bexley lets it happen, does not fight the crying heat that builds inside her chest; here, the anger can only serve her.

The weight of that trauma thrums heavy, almost war-like in every recess of her body, as she slides to meet the rest of the group - walking in slow half-steps, coming to a stop only gradually. Her usually loose white hair has been bound back into a thick braid, both her mane and tail swept out of the way to avoid any complications. Too moody to speak without venom and knowing it won’t do her any good here, Bexley, in lieu of any words, turns her self-assured gaze to Avdotya and holds it there in a minuscule challenge; then those turbulent blue eyes take their turn acknowledging Maxence and Seraphina, but still she says nothing, leaning halfway onto a back hoof. 


love, space


Leviathan — Guest
▶ Played by [pm] Posts: N/A — Threads:
▶ [] Hth:Atk:Exp:
▶ 501 [Year ] Active Magic:
▶ hh Bonded:
#5





LEVIATHAN
the supernova

Trial by combat, leadership by hunting, it's nothing that surprises him. It seems to date back to the old days, when such things were common occurrence, and he felt a flutter in his limbs.

He himself would not by gunning for a position such as Sovereign, he knew his place was not with gold on his head but with spear in hand and a battle cry on his lips. He was no leader but he was a warrior, a fighter, through and through. He would take this beast on as a challenge for himself and not for the crown. He was more suited to be covered in blood and scars than gold and silks, even if the Sovereign of Solterra was always going to be more gritty than most.

So he walked with heavy hooves, his mane swept back from his eyes, tied behind his ears in a loose knot of sorts from his face, the rest of it laying freely against his nape. His tail was braided unevenly, some bigger than others, the rest loose and kept out of the way. He was more prepared for battle than he would admit, and his heavy shoulders rolled at the thought of what they would be up against. A Teryr, but an elder Teryr. Large and frightening but nothing like the Sandwyrms that pocketed the desert.

This would be a trial for the entirety of the Day Court, and he found himself humming inwardly.

He was calm and collected, but there was a buzz under his skin as he looked from face to face, only to settle easily and flick both ears upward. He was ready.




Inkheart — Inactive Character Signos: -5
▶ Played by Lauren [pm] Posts: 72 — Threads: 11
▶ [Female [she/her/hers]] Hth: 12 — Atk: 8 — Exp: 13
▶ 5 [Year 496 Winter] Active Magic: N/A
▶ 16.2 hh hh Bonded: N/A
#6

IMAGE | 364 words | --



ONLY THE GOLD UPON HER MIDNIGHT BODY MAKES HER STAND OUT AGAINST DARKNESS. OTHERWISE, SHE MIGHT BLEND IN WITH THE BACKGROUND ENTIRELY. HER WINGS CARRY HER AT FIRST, THEN HER LONG LEGS AS SHE FOLLOWS THE WOULD-BE KING. ALTHOUGH HE HAS NOT VOICED HIS INTEREST, SHE HAS NOMINATED HIM IN HER OWN MIND (AND SUGGESTED IT ALOUD) FOR THE POSITION. THERE WAS A TIME SHE MIGHT HAVE SEEN HERSELF AS A RULER, BUT THESE DAYS SHE HAS OTHER INTERESTS IN MIND. MAXENCE IS, OF COURSE, THE FIRST TO ARRIVE IN THE CANYON, BUT OTHERS BESIDES HERSELF HAVE FOLLOWED. SHE WONDERS HOW MANY OF THEM VIEW THEMSELVES AS SUBJECTS WORTHY OF VYING FOR THE CROWN OF SOLTERRA. TO BE HONEST, THE PROPHET DOESN'T KNOW ANY OF THEM WELL ENOUGH TO JUDGE THEIR SUITABILITY - SHE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW THEIR NAMES.

SHE COMES TO A STOP NOT FAR BEHIND THE PAINTED WARRIOR, GLANCING AROUND TO SEE A FEW FAMILIAR FACES. SHE NOTES THAT ONE FEMALE THINKS HERSELF THE GREAT ADVISOR TO HIM, AND INKHEART REALIZES SHE MET SAID FEMALE UPON HER ARRIVAL TO SOLTERRA. GOLDEN EYES NARROW, FOR SHE SEEMS TO IGNORE THE FACT THAT THERE ARE LARGE FEATHERED APPENDAGES ATTACHED TO THIS BODY AS WELL. SHE FLINGS THEM OUT DRAMATICALLY AND FLAPS THEM A COUPLE OF TIMES, BUT SPEAKS NO WORDS TO IDNICATE HER IRRITATION AT THE OVERSIGHT. HOWEVER, WORDS TO ADDRESS THE CONVERSATION AT HAND ARE NECESSARY. "I think, don't you, that this is more of a solo endeavor. Although we are all present, and can support each other, this is a competition to be the ruler. Your running commentary may not give him the chance to show himself in the best light." THE WORDS ARE TIGHT, CONDESCENDING, DRIPPING WITH DISTASTE AND DISAPPROVAL.

ALTHOUGH SHE HAD NOT ORIGINALLY MINDED THE PALE FEMME, THAT OPINION HAS COME TO CHANGE RATHER DRASTICALLY. THE OVER-EAGERNESS TO HELP MAXENCE MAKES NEITHER OF THEM MORE APPEALING TO HER, CERTAINLY NOT FOR A WOULD-BE RULER. THE BEND-OVER-BACKWARDS-FOR-YOU ATTITUDE WAS LIKE HAVING HER FEATHERS PICKED FROM HER ONE BY ONE. IF THIS CUNT DOESN'T SHUT IT, INKHEART HAS A MIND TO SHUT HER MOUTH FOR HER. AND THAT WOULD BE A KINDNESS.


tracker
wishlist
plotter
dA
Please tag in all posts. Do whatever you want with Ink except maiming, dismemberment, and death.


Torstein — Day Court Warden Signos: 515
▶ Played by inkbone [PM] Posts: 60 — Threads: 2
▶ Male [He/Him/His] Hth: 7 — Atk: 13 — Exp: 19
▶ 9 [Year 493 Spring] Active Magic: Telemanipulation
▶ 21 hh Bonded: N/A
#7



T O R S T E I N


The group moved, and so did Torstein. He did not fully know why, and he couldn't justify his pull towards this scattered herd of misfits. Maybe misfits was too cruel a word; but in reality, they all had little in common. While this... Day court, was that it's official name? No one ever bothered to tell him too much. Regardless - the majority of them seemed to be a little bit rougher around the edges, but some of the supposed-inhabitants appeared to be a little softer. Not necessarily a bad thing, depending on what their skills were, but...

Adrift in thought, the tall stallion meandered behind the group lazily as they traversed from the Court to the Canyon. A sight he was slightly familiar with, his red eyes scanned the surrounding walls. Nothing had changed, nor did anything seem particularly out of the ordinary. Regardless, he expected nothing other than that filthy piece of shit who threw him here to pop out of the Canyon walls, just as he did not so long ago.. eyes narrowed, and ombre ears flattened dangerously against the crown of his head and crest of his neck. A hot breath was expelled from his nostrils, and he pulled his attention away from the walls back towards the rag-tag group. Maybe he was getting too comfortable here.

The problem was, he had no choice. He knew how to make do with what the circumstances gave him, so he did what he did best: adapt.

Pulling up alongside the group, he glanced sideways at the gathering of six or so equines. Quietly, he observes the interactions with a passive (albeit judgmental) gaze. The mare he had met first spoke of the painted stallion's wings - and immediately afterwards, the gold and black mare flapped hers like a petulant little child vying for attention. 

Following the petty gesture she made, his gaze immediately went to her - INKHEART, the one with a gold rose upon her leg and a sun in front of her heart. His eyes narrowed, and rolled so heavily in their sockets they might as well have rolled back into his head. "What are you, a child?" He rumbled, all three eyes fixated steadily upon her. The gaze was steely, and he easily thwarted her in size. Tail flicking agitatedly at his hocks like an annoyed cat, his gaze slowly adverted back towards the main portion of the group. The ones who didn't appear to be acting like jealous children, at least. But he still peered at her out of the corner of his vision, lips tight. While her spoken words were wise, her body spoke volumes of her true impudence.

Torstein knew nothing of this 'Elder Teryr,' but by the name alone, he was not particularly confident that it was the sweetest of creatures. The rough colored and rough-edged mare, AVDOTYA, appeared to be pleased by the mention of it. He took that as a not-so-great sign. The golden mare - BEXLEY - was just as quiet as before, and so was the giant who rivaled Torstein's own stature, LEVIATHAN. SERAPHINA was the only one who gave any information regarding the beast... and her description did nothing to boost his confidence. It flies?


Oh joy.





chest cavity: closed // words: 541 // headshot

love, space

Will only ever introduce himself as 'Tor'
please tag @Torstein in all replies




NPC Account — Official Novus Account Signos: 45
▶ Played by Everyone [pm] Posts: 8 — Threads: 3
▶ [All [They/Them/Theirs]] Hth: ∞ — Atk: ∞ — Exp:
▶ 1 [Year 501 Spring] Active Magic: All Powerful
▶ 8 feet tall hh Bonded: All Creatures
#8









THE ELDER TERYR









SEVEN he spied upon the dunes and sandscape, each peering into his canyon. From the depths of a cavern he had stirred, the words of the hunting party bounding from the rocks and pulling the teryrs slumbering gaze to his hunters. 

THUD. A clawed foot perhaps the same length of Torsteins entire bodice reached forth to the dawnlit rocks guarding the beast's abode. BOOF! The sand beneath his bed was disturbed by the boom of a flexed pair of wings, a total wingspan surely wider than ten whole lengths of Maxence's wings. While it was not half as pretty as Bexley, nor carried no Arsenal of weaponry like Avdotya he was certainly a threat to every Solterran standing on the opposite ledge of the canyon.

A screech came next, one that was sure to make ears bleed, and it was not a moment or two later that once again the sweep of wings beat against the walls of his nest causing bones to scuttle over the warm slab, the sweet but sick smell of decay erupting from his hiding place in an invisible plume. 
There was no where to run; he was here.

All too soon a beak emerged, then bloodied feather wings. Then he swooped. Claws extended, wings of an entire hurricane pulling his victims in, the Teryr aimed his lunging flight first for Seraphina, soon to crowd his wings in the direction of Leviathan and the other towards Inkheart.


THE TERYR IS HERE!
I used Random list to determine who he attacks this time! (Seraphina, Leviathan and Inkheart!) For every round your character goes without being attacked its name will be put into random list again!
I am going to roll a dice for each character to determine damage. 1= bruise, abrasion, winded etc. 6 = broken bones, knocked unconscious, etc! If you would rather decide the damage you take that's fine, and you can even decide to have the teryr miss. This is just to add more of a 'fight' dynamic to the thread!

SERAPHINA - 4
LEVIATHAN - 3
INKHEART - 6



ALL SHALL FADE



Maxence — Guest
▶ Played by [pm] Posts: N/A — Threads:
▶ [] Hth:Atk:Exp:
▶ 501 [Year ] Active Magic:
▶ hh Bonded:
#9



Blessed are they who stand before
The corrupt and the wicked and do not falter.
Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just.








Wisdom and instinct demanded he run. The BOOM and SWOOSH of wings larger than any he'd ever beheld seemed large enough to grip coldy at his heart and urge it to stop, skip and murmur. Frozen and still the commander remained, his eyes fixed ahead at the erruption from the canyon before each eye was flickered over the men and women who stood at his side. 
"Steel yourselves..." were the warrior's breathless words "Hold your position" Maxence would then demand of them, lifting his wings and grounding himself firmly upon the rock and sand in preparation for something monstrous. 

'Any last words?' 
He could hear her childish knickers as though she was still right there facing death beside him. No matter the odds or how great the foe, it had been Yvesmerelda who stood at his right flank through every fight until her last. Twisting his nose to the right, wishing to see his friend of what felt like centuries he was met with an entirely different presence - he might even be disappointed were he not preoccupied with the beast lunging from the opposite canyon wall. 
It was Seraphina's words instead that moments ago had brought him encouragement and comfort, blessing him with her will for Solis to fight with him. 'If only' Maxence had thought, though he truly was quite thankful for the words of wisdom and her tactical mind.

Another beat, another thud was soon to pass and already Maxence was lurching forward in anticipation, only to be halted by the Teryrs sudden arrival. Busrting from it's dark realm 'neath the rock and slab, the commander hardly even had a moment to take in it's frightful features before it was upon them. As the warrior flared his wings and buckled upward for flight, horror seemed to hold him first as the beast enveloped not one, not two, but three of his comrades. The first he witnessed to fall under the shadow of it's unforgiving wings was Seraphina; and so that was the name he cried out. 
"SERAPHINA!" He boomed from the skies, aiming his sharpened and calloused hooves down upon one of the two wings that held his warriors captive. Now his wish for blood and turmoil would not be satisfied until the monster keeled and squealed for peace, so as he drove his to front hooves downward upon a radial joint in the beast's wings he wished for nothing other than a devastating fracture, oen that would ground the beast for the rest of the fight.


THE TERYR IS HERE
there is NO posting order!
and take a look at the hits and attacks in the teryrs reply to see if your character was attacked! 



Leviathan — Guest
▶ Played by [pm] Posts: N/A — Threads:
▶ [] Hth:Atk:Exp:
▶ 501 [Year ] Active Magic:
▶ hh Bonded:
#10





LEVIATHAN
the supernova

The sounds of the approaching beast were loud, and yet he wasn't scared. No. There was a hum of contentment that settled in to his bones, as it always had before a fight. The peace that came with drawing blood was a unique thing that he hardly experienced anymore; he felt very much alive as the beast emerged with a scream that made his ears pin backward. It rang through him, rattling around his skull, and he was certain even his teeth would have vibrated if they had been able to.

There was almost immediate chaos when the giant bird swooped in, wings spanning out. He caught one of them, feeling it bang against his back and flanks with powerful beats. Even if it was just a wing, it still hurt enough to likely create bruises, and he bared his teeth, his head lifting and fire flickering to life in his veins as it sparked through muscles and tendons. His massive body suddenly surged, and his head lifted, sharp horn aiming to jab through the meaty flesh of an upper wing. Despite himself, he lunged forward, aware of where the bird was attacking one of his kin; Seraphina.

He made himself an easy target, foolishly, and he felt the sear of pain across his back as the beast's head dipped down before he could reach the other. He lifted again on rear legs despite the warmth of blood moving down his body, and his head jerked, another attempt to get his horn through an eye or the soft flesh of its face.

He even kicked his hooves, smashing them against a rock hard beak in an attempt to crack and shatter what was the bird's primary weapon. He wasn't sure what damage he could do, but at nearly a ton, he threw all of his weight to slam in to that beak.

The target had at first been just a wing, but now he remained face to face with the beast, teeth bared and a roar in his chest as his hooves moved in a desperate attempt to fracture what he could.


ooc; got a little bit banged up. bleeding from a nice wound across his back, but adrenaline is keeping him going. he'll be pretty bruised up from those wings smacking him too.




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