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

It didn't take long for the maiden's massive challenger to appear, his hulking mass approaching square and steady. Amber eyes watched as the stallion's scar spattered pelt shifting over thick ropes of muscle and columns of bone, a tiny smile creeping along her blackened lips; Leviathan was an accurate name for the enormous brute and the girl distantly wondered if he had chosen the name for himself or if his parents had an incredible sense of foresight. Dinner plate sized hooves pressed heavy grooves into the earth, hollowed half moons of crushed flora belying the beast's mass. 

With a nod more to herself than to her opponent, Eden assessed the warrior further, keen gaze sliding across his skin to catalog the advantages and disadvantages that could occur from choosing to spar with such a beast. First and foremost, the lass noted the nearly overwhelming difference in stature between she and Leviathan - there was at least a four hand disparity and no doubt did the stallion hold a minimum of two hundred pounds of muscle over her frame. Yet, the possibility remained that he would be slowed by his bulk, reigned in by his own sheer size. She snorted, rather enjoying the cruelty of the odds that she had been presented with. 

Eyeing the scars that crisscrossed Leviathan's skin, the paladin wondered if any of them remained sensitive to impact - she could use them to press an advantage if necessary. Onto the twin spikes of horn that jutted from the behemoth's slightly convex nose, Eden noted the sharp edges that the pair held, despite the frontward's broken state - she would need to steer clear of those if she was going to stand any chance against the goliath. Cocking her head to the side, Eden arched a brow as she noticed the cloudy paleness that mottled Leviathan's right eye. Gaze tracing the scar that pressed itself to the skin about the occipital bone, the lass presumed that the stallion must be blind or near-blind on his right - A pity for him, an advantage for me.

The small smile that had danced about the corners of her mouth split into a full grin as her adversary called out, the honorary of sister upon his tongue. With a stamp of her right front hoof and the resulting jingle of her freshly polished bangles, Eden saluted the older warrior, her own greeting of "Brother," echoing his. Truly, the stallion seemed in a jovial mood, only offering the barest of words before leaping into motion, his immense body soaring toward her own in a matter of seconds. 

A surprised laugh leaped from the girl's lips as she noted the agility with which Leviathan moved, a surge of joy surging through her adrenalice-laced veins. Amber eyes narrowing in focus, the lass moved as quickly as she could, taking only a few swift steps to her left - and Leviathan's hopefully blind right - and bracing for the impact that would be the stallion's chest to her exposed right hip and thigh. The shield maiden had assumed the collision of Levi's massive chest and her hindquarters would be a punishing one and she had been right as rain; two surfaces of hard packed muscle crushed together in what would be a vicious bruise.

Yet, her mentors had taught her the value of sustaining an injury in order to invoke a hopefully more successful strike upon her opponent.

Focusing her weight upon her front two legs and tensing her muscles, Eden allowed the weighty momentum of Leviathan's blow to swing her back end around, settling her at what she estimated would be his shoulder for a split second before the mare rose up on her back two legs, flinching at the tenderness that had already settled into her hind. Striking out with both front hooves, the speed of which causing the bangles and hooves to look like streaks of gold, Eden attempted to wound the right side of the stallion's ribcage before his momentum could take him past her reach. Another laugh burst from her lungs, breathless with the exhilaration of it all. 

Oh, it mattered not where her quest took her, it mattered not at all where her head would lay, for as long as battle waged and as long as the tang of blood and sweat loomed near, Spring's Daughter would be home.

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

The stallion replied to her laugh with one of his own, a joyous, carefree rumble bursting from his scarred lips and into the youthful spring air. Ah! came her elated thought, cheer filling her bones with a warm light at the concept of another who found such happiness in the midst of battle. Truly, it was a blessing to have stumbled upon a court that worshiped both the Holy Light and battle. Truly, the realm of Solis' children had been pulled together from earth and celestial bodies, a nation scratched out of the harsh desert that felt and stood as a savior. Even now, as the delicious sensation of muscle and ligament pushing and pulling like waves upon a shore, the lass felt the warmth and pride of her god and of her universe pressing upon her ebon striped skin. 

Worship could be found in all actions; Eden's holy house was the arena, the blade her priest, and combat her salvation. As she fought, she was cleansed, as she emerged, she would be pure anew, sinless and faultless as the newborn lamb. 

As her hooves found purchase upon the behemoth's flesh, piercing skin and coaxing forth a thin stream of ruby blood to run in a small mockery of rivers down his side, she was already anticipating what her opponent's retaliation could be. Golden bangles clanked and jingled their tuneless melodies with the impact of her strike, and the gilded lass relished in the slow burn that had been building in her hip. Pain was a simple reminder that one was alive, nothing to be feared, nothing to run from. Yet, as Leviathan's momentum carried him past her and the mare saw the muscles along the stallion's shoulders, side, and rump ripple in preparation for a buck, she threw herself to the side. 

Twisting to the left, in the same direction those massive hooves were flying, Eden allowed gravity to assist her in bringing those golden hooves to the earth. Despite her efforts, though, the lass could not avoid the behemoth's right hoof scraping over the point of her right hip, the force and angle of the blow tearing through the maiden's flesh and peeling away layers of skin and shimmering rose pelt. With a gasp at the sting that arose so readily from the injury, Eden leaped into a steady canter and cast a glance back toward the burning abrasion. 

The small smile that had graced her lips from the beginning of their spar had not receded, instead, as she gazed upon the roughly four inch long wound - a slow ooze of blood beginning to leak from it's raw and ragged center - the paladin's grin could only grow. I have drawn first blood, but shall he draw last? The thought only served to strengthen the lass' resolve and spur her forward, a newfound vigor in her stride. 

Bearing to her right and giving a toss of her proud head, blackened locs scattering with the motion, Eden barreled toward her adversary. Briefly, she considered leaping toward the stallion's head and claiming one of his ears as a trophy, but she was neither bloodthirsty nor did she want to stray too close to Leviathan's horns. In addition, she entertained the possibility of jumping over the brute's broad back, but that would require practice that she had yet to add to her daily training regimen. Best keep it simple, then, came her measured thought as she slowed her canter and attempted to slide to a stop at Leviathan's muscled side. 

In a smooth motion and with jaws agape, the paladin sought to grasp and rip out a large chunk of mane hanging near the left side of behemoth's withers with her blunted teeth, aurelian gaze narrowed to avoid any errant strands from lodging themselves in her eyes. 

Pray the brute's nape is sensitive...