A I S L I N N
some people are born with tornadoes in their lives, but constellations in their eyes.
other people are born with stars at their feet,
but their souls are lost at sea.
- nikita gill
The night air stilled around her as she lingered in the center of the Steppe, as if all of the nocturnal creatures surrounding the plateau hushed in anticipation. Her blood boiled like untamed wildfire in her veins, hot breath blowing soft clouds through her nostrils like steam from bubbling water. She waited, silently willing whomever prowled in the night's shadows to come out and play.
Tall sweetgrass brushed against her legs, strands of her starlight mane fluttering into her view as she stood. Proud and expectant, delicate ears flittering at the slightest change in noise. She inhaled deeply, drinking in the night. There. Her ears flicked towards the soft clink of metal on metal. Surely, she might have imagined the sound in anticipation, and perhaps not at all. She nearly almost dismissed the sound a heartbeat before a war cry roared through the quiet.
The unmistakable pounding of hooves on earth roared through the stillness, rushing at her on her right side. Years of training among the warriors in her tribe honed her, as Aislinn's muscles began to respond automatically. Her attacker had surprise on their side, but she was also quick.
As she felt him come near, the gypsy mare twisted her body in attempt to deflect their aim -- extending her wings high above her and out of reach. However, she wasn't quick enough as she felt a heavy weight throw her just off-kilter, a strangled gasp breaking free from her throat as the sting of fresh blood rushed on a gash in her wing. She shoved at him with her full weight, frustration answering into her own battle cry.
Hot fumes billowed from her nostrils, her anger broiling and molding into a tangible thing. A weapon in itself, her teachers would say. Now, she got a good look at him -- a brute wearing metal-plated armor, and a hound sneaking at her at his side. Aislinn glared at them both, sapphire orbs promising sweat and blood and the taste of Rahilah fury. She winced as she extended her right wing, testing it, before her muscle bunched up and let loose as she launched herself at him headlong. Her hope was to catch the stallion while he caught his breath -- unforgiving and merciless. Feathers extended to their full wing span, she flew, a living obsidian dagger as she charged with teeth bared.
Summary: Ash takes a hit and has a bleeding gash on her wing ('tis but a flesh wound), charging at Rosti with full force and super angry about being surprised xD
Attack Used: 1
Attack(s) Left: 1
Block Used: 0
Block(s) Left: 1
Item(s) Used: None!
Response Deadline: 7 August
Tags: @Rostislav @
