Asterion Asterion watches with dark-eyed interest as Katniss approaches across the battleground, the thick summer sunlight glistening off her armor. It is his first encounter with such a defense; perhaps he should feel more nervous, as she nears with an eagle on her back, its gaze on him almost reproachful. But the bigger mare is a friend, and this is only a spar, and he is ready to shake the morning’s sluggishness from his bones. Be wary, thinks Cirrus, her eyes not leaving Katniss. This is not Florentine. It is almost enough for Asterion to respond to the dark mare’s words - that such a thing would be impossible, given her size, her strength, her armor - but instead he only dips his chin and flicks an ear toward the eagle as it launches from her back. Cirrus’s gaze follows it, too, though she says nothing further. There is a moment, then, when Katniss looks up, and the sun beats down, and anticipation almost urges Asterion into making the first move. Instead he stands, muscles taut even as he forces his breathing steady, and reaches down to touch the magic pooled deep within him like dropping a pebble into a well. It seems to ripple out in answer, calm waves of power, and the bay only has enough time to think good before Katniss is charging. He shifts where he stands, shivering with a Thoroughbred’s pre-race nervousness, tempted to distance himself. He can feel the rumble of each hoof-beat as it lands, a reminder of her power and weight, but Asterion forces himself to wait. But as she begins her circling he does not remain stationary; as she draws her wider rings he pivots, too, watching her from his peripheral vision and keeping his hindquarters toward her. Her size makes her slower than him, impossible to miss; he hardly needs the gleam of sunlight off her armor to track her. When she abruptly halts, spraying dirt, he thinks at last- there is only enough time for the thought before she has wheeled and is kicking back with all the strength of her draft heritage. But Asterion’s turning has not been for nothing; his hindquarters are a smaller target than waiting broadside, and as she was pivoting he was opening up the distance between them. He only manages between as step and two by the time she kicks, but what could have been a rib-cracking blow instead catches him with one hoof on the right buttock, an area thick with muscle. Still, the blow is powerful; the bay squeals in pain, both a broad ache and a sharp sting from a cut an edge of her hoof has opened up along the back of his thigh. He surges forward, more to test the muscle than to put distance between them, and finds he already wants to favor the leg. It puts him in no position to play chase. Fortunately, she is keeping close to him, her gleaming armor a reminder of how few weak spots she has. The bright buzz of pain puts him out of the mood for strategizing; when she is near enough he simply plants his forefeet and kicks out with his back hooves, low and quick, aiming for her unprotected forelegs. He knows anything higher would only make him more unstable, and give her opportunity to shove him off balance. Then, while she is hopefully preoccupied with the results of his kick, Asterion seeks to put a few lengths between them. A bruise is already blooming beneath the skin of his haunch, and the bay grits his teeth and turns to face her as the first rumble of thunder groans across the summer sky. |
Summary: As Katniss circles Asterion, he is turning, too, keeping his hindquarters aimed toward her. Her kick lands on his right buttock, opening a cut and bruising the muscle. As she keeps close to him he kicks out, low, hoping to catch her somewhere on the forelegs. Then he seeks to open the distance between them and turns to face her. Meanwhile the storm grows nearer.
Attack Used: 1
Attack(s) Left: 0
Block Used: 0
Block(s) Left: 1
Item(s) Used: NA
Response Deadline: Feb. 19
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