Dusted with star matter and borne upon tides of nature, hers is the beauty of wild places.



It had been too long. 



Too long since the gold dusted mare had felt the heat of flesh against her own, the pressure that built within her frame as her muscles coiled and bunched with the effort of battle. Too long since the tang of blood and sweat filled her nostrils, since dust had settled in the scrapes and the lacerations - those timeless badges of honor earned upon a field most holy. Indeed, it had been months since the paladin had bellowed her summons to a challenger, screamed her defiance of darkness into the burning light of day. 



Yet, now, as her golden hooves pressed empty half moons into the well worn earth of the makeshift arena, the shield maiden felt her chest swell with anticipation. She felt the warrior's heart that pulsed within her breast pick up a new pace, the beat of a war drum thrumming within those righteous veins. Breath coming quicker, amber eyes flickering with an almost feverish glint, the mare slowed to a stop near the center of the battle ring, the near constant clinking of her bangles falling away. Gold tipped ears swiveled about, raking the airwaves for the presence of another - for today she would spar one of her own people, draw the blood of a brother or sister in a baptism of violence. 

They would both leave the arena battered and bruised, yet they would leave better, and they would leave united. 

Heaving a breath, Eden tossed her head, gilded septum glinting in the early afternoon sun as ebony locs and a tangle of wildflowers floated up toward the cloudless azure sky for an instant before falling back to her skin with a familiar thump-and-whisper. It was an effort not to rear, not to stomp, not to give in to the battle rage that steadily built within the mare's core; for it had no place in a battle between siblings, between twin children of Solis, the light. 

"Heed my summons, sisters and brothers of Day!" Came her bellow, the words ringing across the Steppe and - hopefully - across the attention of one of Solis' daughters or sons, "Let us do battle, let us worship beneath Solis' godly light."



No longer would she wait.

Dusted with star matter and borne upon tides of nature, hers is the beauty of wild places.
Her challenger was truly a sight to behold. As the woman of charcoal, ivory, and burnished silver offered her detached response, Eden felt the familiar stirrings of admiration. The way the mare moved wasn't predatory nor was it akin to dancers, instead it was a graceful combination of the two; a ballerina and an assassin, a panther and a soaring dove. Rather like the paladin's first challenger, the mare that stood before her was taller than she, though not by such an overwhelming margin as Leviathan. 

Nostrils flaring to catch the scent of Solis upon the muscular opposition's flesh, Eden grinned openly, an expression of warmth and welcome upon her features as her pale striped adversary charged with an exaltation to Solis upon her lips. If the aurelian mare had been less predisposed to battle, if she hadn't been raised to mold her body into the very definition of a weapon, she may have kept her gaze more general. She may have allowed her eyes to wander and watch the musculature of the femme in an attempt to predict what her first strike may be, but Eden was a child of combat, fire hardened and iron born. 

Amber eyes watched the icy azure ones of her opponent carefully, even as her muscles tensed in preparation for movement. Distantly, she wondered at her old injuries, healed over and practically gone but for a slight ache at the point of her right hip where the last dregs of a bruise from Leviathan remained. Casting aside all concerns for previous wounds, the star dusted maiden noted the way that the Day Court challenger's pupils dilated and contracted as they focused upon her tangled nest of a mane. Does she intend to yank mine hair like I did to Leviathan's?

Her grin grew, though it had formed an edge. As the ivory printed lass reared up before her, Eden tensed her rump and rose with her, throwing her weight forward and tossing that proud skull with it's crown of locs out of the reach of such grasping jaws. There was a small grunt as the bruising impact and burning echo of the mare's sharpened hooves striking at the pectoral muscles about her breast. The stinging near the base of her throat whispered the possibility of blood, but Eden wasted no time by looking down - if she bled, then she bled. Lashing out with her own two front hooves toward her opponent's chest and inner legs in an attempt to hobble the mare, Eden held back her laughter; this spar lacked the lighthearted joy that had flooded her when she had done battle with Leviathan. She did not wish for the mare to think she was laughing at her or for the woman to take offense. 

So she stayed silent, quietly brimming with a delight that she could only find within the dust and blood of combat.