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It had been a long, strange week, to put it mildly. In the course of the week, Ire had satisfied himself that great Kalona herd had disbursed, had walked one of the last great battlefields, and had met up with a survivor of the Kalona herd who had decided to stay on in the Kawani lands. He had not been troubled by any of it; indeed, he had been pleased to learn the herd had collapsed. While he could appreciate many parts of their philosophy and beliefs, particularly with regard to Kalona supremacy, he had never believed there was any honor or any great strength in a battle of numbers. He had always prided himself on his strength and his combat prowess, and the fact that the Kalona herd had used superior numbers to kill creatures that were beyond pathetic as fighters and prey animals was an affront to the skill of the species.

No, it had served the herd right to disband; they had been puffed up on pride that only went skin deep. The number of dead Kalona among the dead regular, unicorns, winds, and other lesser breeds was testament enough to their lack of skill when it really mattered. Such Kalona deserved to die.

Yet he had no issues with many of the herd's Kalona staying on in the Kawani lands. The Kalona remaining from the herd he'd encountered so far had been prime specimens; unlike the herd itself, these Kalona had so far shown themselves to have pride in their heritage and the combat skills to justify that pride. The only way to improve, to grow stronger, was to fight; and the only things worth fighting were opponents who stood on an equal footing: ideally, other Kalona.

So yes, Ire was glad for the end of the Kalona herd, but equally glad that many superior members of its number had stayed on. These lands needed an infusion of good, strong Kalona blood.

~~~

He had been hunting this morning, alert for what he deemed proper prey (i.e., something that would put up a fight, like a wolf, or a lion). With a stealth at odds with his large size, he crept through the forest, listening for any sign of life. The cracking of twigs caught his attention, and his eyes narrowed as his smile widened. That sounded promising.

Dropping into a lower crouch, he slunk towards the source of the sound. Hopefully it would be something interesting, not some bumbling lesser. He was not in the mood for dealing with their overly dramatic ways...

But it wasn't a lesser. The mare's vibrant coloration made it easy to see her, even at a distance; unlike his own darkly mottled coat, there was nothing about her that suggested stealth. Nor did she seem to be trying to be stealthy, breaking twigs and treading as heavily as she was. So now the question was, was she being noticeable on purpose because she had nothing to fear, or because she didn't know any better not to? Either way, there was one good way to find out.

He stopped several paces away from the mare, still protected by the shadows of the trees. His approach had been silent and downwind, but that didn't mean she might not have seen some movement, caught a whiff of his scent. But he wasn't worried. He never was. In his deep voice, he called out to the mare. "I doubt a tree is the best target for your hooves."

It might be a strange reaction to the general Soquili population, but Ire was beside himself with joy when the mare abruptly turned and launched herself in his direction. It was a point of principal that Ire himself preferred to never attack without warning; anyone can make a kill if the victim doesn't know the attack is coming. But he loved it when he could provoke someone to attack him; you can learn a lot about someone's combat style from how quick they are to react!

The mare was fast, he had to give her that, and she had good instincts or had had good training. But she was a bit off in her attempt, aiming too low to have made proper contact with the sensitive parts of his throat. Had she made contact, it would have been with the thick, reinforced leather collar he wore around the lower part of his neck, possibly even the iron buckle. THAT would have been a nasty jolt to the teeth!

But there was enough distance between them to start with that he was easily able to dodge out of the way, driving around the mare and purposely into a patch of light. He always liked his opponents to see what they were getting into fighting him: a tall, broad, muscular stallion in his prime, sporting the scars of one used to living by his teeth and horns. "Oh, I'm always offering," he said with a dark smile of his own.

It was beneficial for Ire as well, to have the opportunity to examine the mare. He'd already made note of her dramatic coloration, but now he could also see that she was well-muscled herself, lithe and lion-like. It was probable that she was a fighter herself, and his spirit was buoyed by that knowledge. Hunting could wait, when such an opportunity as this presented itself.

He neatly pivoted around as she drove forward, raising a brow at the nature of her attack as he did so. Was she trying to tease him? Surely she didn't think that such a..whimsical attack was going to do any harm? "Well, if you're going to take me up on that, the least you could do is make is worth both of our time. I can't speak for you, but I broke off a hunt for this." He smiled again, then abruptly lashed out at her with his teeth.

Quick. She was quick, in addition to fluid, slinky, and light on her feet. Ire had yet to determine if there was true strength behind the mare's technical knowledge; it could be hit and miss with strength when it came to mares, and even some stallions. Still, regardless of whether she packed a wallop or a whisper, he was pleased; it was always a glad day when he came across another Kalona who actually knew what it meant to fight. Any Kalona who didn't embrace their birthright by taking every opportunity to cross fangs with another Kalona was treading dangerously close to weakness, at least as far as Ire was concerned.

He might have been able to dodge the mare's kick; in fact, he was convinced that he would have been able to dodge, if he'd really wanted to. However, what better opportunity would he have to gauge the mare's strength then taking a full-on kick? It might be considered arrogance, but Ire had nothing but confidence in himself and his ability to take damage. Pyralis' kick connected solidly on his flank, provoking a hissing exhale from Ire but nothing more. No, scratch that; it also provoked a grin. "Not bad," he commented as he pivoted to drive his horns up towards the mare's side. "So far, I can indeed say I'm not disappointed. But I'm sure you have more in you."

At the mare's challenging question, Ire's grin widened, and he couldn't help himself when he answered, "Where would be the sport in ending now?" Some Soquili might find it challenging to fight and talk at the same time; those Soquili were not likely to be Kalona. One advantage of prime physical conditioning: lots of available lung capacity!

A Kalona's wings were both a strength and a weakness; the strong spikes and thick leathery membranes made a Kalona's wings much tougher than any other type of Soquili wings. However, compared to the rest of a Kalona's body, the wings were thin, flimsy, and vulnerable. Consequently, a natural target. Knowing that, Ire would be a fool not to take defense of his wings very seriously, so he spun to deflect her horn strike, taking the blow with the strong, sturdy spikes at his shoulder. Better them than the vulnerable skin behind!

As her horns connected with his spikes, Ire looked down at the mare with unveiled admiration. "Very nice, very nice indeed. You are to be commended for your obvious dedication to training."

The collision of horn and spike was hard, but not painful; the tough tissues surrounding the spike more than served their purpose in absorbing the force of the impact. Still, it was a good effort, and Ire was positively beaming as the mare skipped backwards, his toothy smile just as wide and expressive as her matching grin. He noted the mare's smile with pleasure; it was wonderful to have stumbled upon such a specimen as her, one who was skilled and trained, and who took so much joy in the fight. It had been months since he'd found an opponent who so beautifully typified everything that was RIGHT with the Kalona race!

As they faced each other, Ire once again ran his eyes over her body, looking for any previously unseen weak points or injuries. There was nothing obvious; no wounds or large scars, no limps. An excellent specimen in every way.

And normally, he would not charge an excellent specimen head on. After all, most Kalona were smart enough to know how to deflect and dodge that sort of attack. But at this point, the fight was becoming something else, at least to Ire; no longer just a challenge/greeting, but an exhibition. So with a wink that bordered on playful, he called out, "As you wish, Mare," and then drove straight forward, horns down and hooves up, relying on his larger bulk to help overcome her advantages of speed.

If Pyralis was proud of her smooth, unmarred appearance, Ire was equally proud of each and every scar and line on his body. Years of practice, starting when he'd been unceremoniously kicked out on his own as a young foal, had shaped him into the prime specimen he was today. Each scar was a testament to the work he'd put in to become this way, to the fights he'd been in and survived. He was confident in his skills, confident in his abilities, and knew without a shadow of a doubt that he could stand up and be counted among the true Kalonas. No tainted blood, no weak flesh, no cringing spirit; just strength, skills, and confidence.

Though the longer this little encounter lasted, the more he was realizing that this mare shared in those qualities. What could have initially passed as blind luck or simple speed was clearly more; she showed no distress at fighting him, even though he was larger and, to an untrained eye, clearly more dangerous. She was meeting him attack for attack, dodging the brunt of his manuevers while throwing out some potentially serious damage herself. He had to stay sharp with this one, he thought with no small amount of pleasure as he drove downward, below the descending ridge of her wing. The last thing he wanted to become entangled in the leathery wing skin and miss the fun!

As he went down, Ire snapped out at the mare's flank beneath her wing, saying amidst the snarl, "You are a strong Kalona, Mare." The tone was aggressive, but a proper Kalona would take it for the compliment it was!