Finnian laughed at that. "That does not sound so terrible to me!" he said with a grin "But if this is where everyone fight, this is where we will fight. My only hope is that we will not break a leg in the process..."
He turned his attention from the trampled, uneven ground and back to the blacksmith as the other stallion backed up, steadily increasing the distance between them. Realizing that the older man indeed wasn't going to simply show him around, Finnian laughed again and obliged the fellow by turning his body around to face him.
"Do let's! I'm honored that ye would spend yer precious time on a greenhorn like meself... Go easy on a poor sick man, would ye?"
Widening his stance, he rolled his shoulders in a vain attempt at shrugging off the stiffness in his joints and tried to recall all at once everything his tutors had ever tried to teach him. How to measure the distance and the number of strides between himself and the opponent, how to anticipate and counter unarmed attacks, how to spot and utilize differences in size, age, experience...
But it had been a long time since he did this, and Arion was an unknown in everything but name. All Finnian knew about the man was what he could see with his own eyes and deduce from that; how much taller the painted stallion was, how his muscles swelled and how the heavy build might slow him down compared to the lithe, flexible youth. Surely there was a measure of experience in the mammoth that Finnian lacked as well, both in life and on this battlefield; in short, he was at a disadvantage no matter how he looked at it.
But that, in itself, might be an advantage if he could just find a way to turn all those strengths against Arion. What did he have that the other did not? And as the answer came to him, the young rogue smiled in anticipation.
His heartbeat raced when the onslaught began. The heat of the day drew sweat from his skin, fine beads of perspiration that darkened the golden hide by every crease and fold; Finnian tossed the forelock out of his eyes and counted the thundering strides as the behemoth of a stag came thundering towards him. One, two, three, four... with every second it grew harder to remain prone, the instinct to turn and run growing stronger as Arion's frame pressed on. It was half the battle, but Finnian didn't give in to the urge. He stayed and stayed and stayed where he was until the very last moment, shifting his weight and balance back onto strong hindquarters until the front hooves just barely touched the ground.
He flashed a grin at Arion, cheeky and excited and wildly inappropriate at that moment.
Then, as the gleaming, bronze-cuffed tusks came hurtling towards his chest, Finnian rolled away, heaving himself around to the left in a rolling buck, so that his rear end came to face Arion. Instead of slamming into the side of his chest, the blunt edges of the tusks scraped up over his right side, drawing a line of fire and scraped skin over Finnian's ribs and shoulder that would no doubt bruise him for days to come. Grunting from the pain and from the effort exerted, he took his weight onto the front legs and kicked out with the rear, aiming to place the black hooves squarely in the chest of the bigger stallion.
"Have a taste at my flabby arse!" he jested merrily, knowing full well that some fighters hated his casual banter during spars.
Even as momentum began to carry him forward again, Finnian reached for the dagger strapped to his right foreleg. Though he had no real intention of really using it, the sight of gleaming metal might be intimidating enough to make the other hesitate... And he liked the feel of the ivory handle between his teeth, cool and smooth and dangerously heavy. Very heartening, as if he could feel his father's steadying gaze upon him whenever he held it.
What would the old man have said if he saw Finnian now, sparring a stranger on a field of dust beneath the scalding sun? Would he have been proud?
Summary: Finnian readies himself and, facing Arion head on, waits until he is just within reach before he moves. Finnian heaves himself around to the LEFT in a rolling buck, taking the attack on his RIGHT SIDE and tries to KICK Arion in the front of the chest. Preparing to continue forward and regain balance, Finnian is reaching for his dagger, but has not yet drawn it.
Attack Used: 1
Attack(s) Left: 1
Block Used: 0
Block(s) Left: 1
Item(s) Used: none
Response Deadline: 2017-09-01 (september 1st)
Tags: @Arion @
