So involved in his shadow boxing, Raglan didn’t notice the sudden silence that arrived with his assassin. Ducking and weaving about, opalescent eyes glaring at an invisible foe, the winged beast’s shuffling hooves and fluttering wings kicked up a cloud of dust to envelope both his form and the wraith that was Mila. As her velvet voice flowed into his consciousness and wrapped about his throat, the horned youth yelped in shock, swinging his body toward the sound of his fellow Crow’s words just in time to catch a thin shoulder directly to the center of his chest.
A coughing exhale accompanied the strike, the force of Mila’s muscles combined with the momentum of her weight pushing all of the breath from the stringy Silvertongue’s lungs. Blinking rapidly and scrambling back as swiftly as his pale hooves could carry him, Raglan squinted through the thin veil of dust toward his fiery friend, a grin replacing the surprise on his face. “Mila!” Gasped the blood colored rogue, wincing at the bruise that he could already feel forming between his pectoral muscles, “Glad you finally showed up.”
Pairing his remark with as roguish of a smirk as he could muster, - which seemed a little less roguish and quite a bit more relieved at finding an ally and not Maxence himself - Raglan bunched the muscles about his hindquarters and lunged forward, toward Mila head-on.
Though the youth had claimed his fair share of victories to scraps and brawls, he wasn’t a stranger to loss; so it was with a warm laugh and an inkling of healthy competition that he extended his left wing with a snap and swung it toward Mila, aiming for her right shoulder and rib cage. Despite the low visuals, Raglan was careful to keep his aim away from the lass’ head and neck. She was his opponent, sure, but Raglan had grown up alongside Mila and her twin, had ran around in the streets and ripped a life up from the loam and filth that could be found beneath the cobbles of Denocte - he wanted a good spar, but he could never hurt his friend.
So he let his strike swing, relishing in the tug and pull of his wing musculature connecting to the shoulder and twinging chest muscles, his grin never slipping from onyx lips.
(I’m on my phone and I can’t do the coding I’m so sorry but)
Summary: Rags turns right as Mila connects so her shoulder smacks into the center of his chest, he backs up, greets her, then moves forward to attempt to swing his left wing into Milas right side
Attacks Used: 1
Attacks Left: 1
Blocks Used: 0
Blocks Left: 1
Items used: n/a
Response Deadline: November 2nd
Tags: @Mila @inkbone @
