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Never in his life had Guirien launched the first strike...

No, the situation did not look promising. It was difficult to say exactly what the Kalona stallion was thinking; whether he actually thought he was being subtle, or whether he was trying to intimidate them. The oily voice, the the insinuating behavior...the charitable part of Guirien, the part of him that knew there were decent Kalona types out there, wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. However, compared with the cynical, practical part of his being, the charitable part was nothing more than a tiny voice amidst a raging tempest.

Whatever his motives, this guy was bad news. Guirien didn't care for the way he spoke, let alone the way he looked at them. Well, scratch that; there was one thing he liked about the way the Kalona looked at them, specifically the fact that more than looking at them, he was looking at him. Guirien's ego rebelled at the implication that he was the easiest target, but he had to admit that there was certain simplicity in the Kalona male focusing on him. It would make things a lot easier.

Never in his life had Guirien launched the first strike...

At the Kalona's 'big bad beast' query, Guirien made a show of shaking his head. This had the potential to be a truly dangerous game, after all; it was lucky that he was aware of many of the rules. "Assumptions, assumptions. Do I think you're a big bad beast? Of course not," he said with his usual smoothness...right as he drove forward, simultaneously lashing out at the Kalona's front knee with his own hooves and bringing his wings together and down on the joint in the Kalona's opposite wing.

"I know you're a big bad beast," he finished, his blue eyes fiery. If there was ever a time to launch the first strike, it was now!

"Now, the thing you want to remember when going up against any winged opponant is that wings are both a huge advantage and a huge disadvantage at the same time. Even feathered wings like yours are incredibly strong; one good flap-strike can break a leg if aimed properly, break another wing, or if struck at the head, potentially pop an ear drum. Wings like mine, with their spikes and sturdier construction, are capable of doing even more damage. You have to watch when you face a Kalona, or any Soquili with Kalona wings. The spikes are capable of ripping through tissue as easily as you would bite off a blade of grass. But in spite of their great potential for attack, wings are also vulnerable; they present a large target to strike, and they are thinner and far easier to damage than any other part of your body. Be mindful of all wings involved in any of your combats..."

~~~

It had been a stroke of luck that Guirien's wing strike had succeeded, even if his kick had been less successful. But he had always been wary of wings, their strengths as combat tools (and, if necessary, a means of escape) drilled into his head from a very young age by his uncle Antony, the Soquili who had taught him everything he knew about fighting. In the background of his mind, he could hear Tony's voice, explaining the strengths and weaknesses of wings. It was both discerning and invigorating all at once...but also had the potential to be distracting.

With an eye on the Kalona's wings and the other on his teeth, he almost missed the raven until it was too late. As it was, he could feel the scrape of the raven's claws against his cheek, even as he was striking at it with a wing. It was small, but distracting, and he was not as attentive as he should have been when the Kalona lashed out with his own hooves.

It could have gone quite badly for Guirien, had it not been for Azimene's timely intervention. He was bracing himself for the lashing pain of the Kalona's hoof when suddenly Azimene was there, driving into the side of the Kalona...

He'd wondered ever since first meeting Azimene whether the unusual horns on her head were an ornament or a physical feature. Even now, he couldn't be sure. But what he could see was the Kalona roaring out his displeasure anew, swinging around towards Azimene. And blood...wasn't there blood? But whose blood, how?

Well, there would be time to sort that out later. He couldn't see where the raven had gotten to; he devoutly hoped he'd at least crippled it, if not killed it. There was no affinity in his soul for any creature who who ally itself with this sort of Soquili, a Kalona who brought shame to the name of the breed!

He might be small, and he might be a wind, and yes, he was certainly pink. But he was also himself, and he had a friend on his side; no sneaky, murderous Kalona was going to get the better of them!

All these thoughts passed through Guiren's mind in the blink of an eye, the world seeming to have slowed to a crawl to accommodate them. They gave him confidence, though, and with a somewhat unpleasant smile he drove forward into the Kalona once more, teeth bared and hooves kicking.

Guirien wanted to think that he'd conducted himself well, but he also knew he'd been extremely lucky. Lucky the Kalona had been so cocky, lucky that Azimene had been able to help, lucky they both still had their skins intact...more or less. This had been a true life and death situation, and they had come through it alive, that was the important part. Well, most of them had, he amended as he dispassionately nudged at the dead raven with one foot. THAT was one loss he wouldn't lose any sleep over.

He watched the until the Kalona vanished into the horizon, and then for a few minutes longer for good measure. It would be a while before he got over this, he knew; it wasn't every day you had to fight for your life because a Kalona got the drop on him.

Guirien finally broke his death gaze on the sky when Azimene came closer, giving her an apologetic look for not having thought to ask if she was ok, first. "I'll live, Azi...but how are you?" He frowned then, looking her over and taking in the state of her coat. He felt horrible that she had been hurt, that he hadn't been able to take care of the Kalona alone, but he wasn't so cocky that he didn't completely appreciate her help. "Are you going to be ok? You've got a fair amount of blood on you, and you're bleeding from your mouth..." He trailed off, remembering what that had meant before, and instantly he was on the alert. "Do you need anything? Should I get you something, or someone? Should you lie down?"

He started to spread his wings, as though he was going to take right off and fetch help, but a sharp pain made him gasp and draw the wings back from closer examination. At the sight of the bloody tear in the membrane, he scowled, then sighed. Obviously there would be no flying for a while. Pulling the wing back, Guirien shook his head at Azimene. "Guess I'm grounded for a bit, but don't worry about it. Let's see about taking care of you first, I'm used to being knocked around."

Though he'd have to do a self-assessment later. Who knew what else he'd let get through?

((Note for Niss: Guirien has maxed stats))

Truth be told, Guirien was not feeling his best. He’d never taken such a blow to either of his wings before, and he didn’t know how to ensure it would set properly. Indeed, he didn’t even know IF it would set properly, which, for a wind, was a daunting thought. Still, now was not the time to worry about such things; he was alright, she was alright, the evil raven was dead, and the Kalona was gone. Sure, they were both a bit worse for wear, and later they would need to sit back and take stock of their injuries…then would be soon enough for him to worry about his wings.

For now, he had more important priorities to dwell on. He’d only had one prior encounter with Azimene’s…ailment, but that had been enough to convince him that care was merited in dealing with it. With a slight dismissive gesture of his good wing, he brushed off her query about his wing. “We can worry about me later, Azi; nothing feels broken, but I’ll need to check it out later when the adrenaline’s out of my system.” He accompanied that with a slightly sheepish smile; he might be bruised, battered, and broken, but he hadn’t completely lost his sense of humor. Just had it crushed a bit. And his expression tightened a bit as he acknowledged, “Something is definitely torn; I won’t be flying for a long time, I don’t think. Fortunately I can hoof it as well as the next Soquili.” But having acknowledged his problem, he was quick to move past it. Besides, Azimene had a good point about moving on. The last thing either of them needed was for their Kalona friend to return with allies…and in this open area, Guirien’s magenta coat could stand out like a homing beacon. His cocky and self-confident side wanted to think they could manage it, but his protesting wing said otherwise.

“Why don’t you grab a drink and clear yourself out a bit, Azi, and then we can hoof it? There are a few copses around here, and we should be able to make it to one before dark if we get moving. I’d like to have a bit of shelter from prying eyes before worrying about any of this,” as he gestured to himself (and, by association, his wounds). Though his expression once again clouded over as he asked, “Are you ok to move briskly? It should be mostly level terrain.” Because beacon or not, he was NOT leaving Azimene passed out in the open!

((Note for Niss: Guirien has maxed stats))

Well, there was no point in trying to sugarcoat the situation, Guirien reflected grimly. They were both pretty banged up, possibly seriously, but what could they do about that at the moment? Neither of them was a unicorn, and the only thing they had access to was water. No healing herbs that Guirien knew of, no time to step back and do a thorough assessment of their injuries; this was a real-life battle they'd been in, not a training exercise. Guirien had spent most of his time with his uncle's family learning to fight, but any injuries he'd suffered in training were a far cry from the injuries inflicted by the Kalona and his raven friend. For one thing, he doubted either of them had been too big on oral hygiene; he and Azimene would need to be sure to thoroughly cleanse their wounds as soon as possible, or infection would be a very real possibility.

But there was also no point in fretting about things that they couldn't change! They had won the battle, and they were both alive and apparently mobile. Later, when there was actually time for them to take thorough stock of their wounds, they could deal with any associated panic or concern. Right now, though, Guirien knew he had to just grin and bare it. So he squelched down his own concerns, giving Azimene his best encouraging grin as she made her way into the water. He had to hand it to her, she sure was a brick! If she hadn't played such an active role in their defense, most likely neither of them would still be here.

Shaking off that nasty thought, he nodded as Azimene proposed they head off. "Sounds good to me, Azi; if we stay by the stream, we can stop as needed for drinks as well, and it's probably our best shot at camoflague; light reflecting off the moving water and whatnot. I doubt it'll do any good for hiding me, but you might have a shot at blending in, particularly if there are any fast-moving currents." Shading his eyes with his good wing, Guirien looked up and scanned the sky and the horizon; nothing, not even a rabbit. "Well, let's go, Azi; our Grand Adventure is not over yet!" With that, he waded out into the middle of the stream and starting plowing his way downriver.

As a child, Guirien had learned the importance of false cheer. If you were anxious or depressed or broody all the time, it tended to make people worry at best, or want to avoid you at worse. You knew with the people who really knew you, the ones who saw you day in and day out, that there was only so far they'd believe you. You know, somewhere in the back of your mind, that they probably saw right through you. But you still went through the motions, pretended that everything was ok, and hoped that at least someone would believe you. Years of practice had made it second nature to Guirien; he could no more be stoic and grim in this situation than he could fly on a broken wing.

But much as he knew part of him was overcompensating, there was still a weird sense of euphoria that buoyed him along as they made their way downriver. He had survived. They had survived. Their skills and knowledge had served them well, and if they were battered and bruised, they were still alive and mobile. Both of them. They had been a team, and as a team, they had persevered. That was something to appreciate, whether the sentiments were fueled by an overdose of adrenaline or natural and spontaneous.

At her comment about telling the story to her parents, Guirien let out an ungentlemanlike snort. "Yeah, I'd bury this story as deep as you can, Azi, otherwise that father of yours..." He shook his head again, remembering his prior encounter with the intimidating Azumoth. "I'd rather not give them any ammo to use to argue to keep you penned up, because you might be weak in some ways, but you were a bit of a bad a** today." Grinning, he looked over his shoulder at Azimene. "We were a pair of bad asses, really. That's something to be proud of, how good a team we were. Especially since we've never trained together or anything." Really, he was VERY proud of them. He'd been more terrified during their fight than he'd ever been, and they had made it through together. And truth be told...

"Honestly, I'm impressed, Azi. Seriously. This may not be a very nice thing to say, but I wasn't expecting you to know what you were doing, or really be much help. Awful but true," he said with a rueful head shake. "But seriously, you were impressive. I doubt I would have made it through that without you."

A part of Guirien's brain was reflecting on the absurdity of the situation as they made their way along; two badly injured Soquili, one of them bright magenta, slogging their way down the middle of a river, making comments that had the potential to be taken very badly and possibly confrontationally. It was a testament to Azimene that she WASN'T upset by his confession; he'd made it in the spirit of full disclosure, but felt the whole time he was treading on dangerous ground. There were some Soquili who would rather keep certain opinions to themselves, even if it meant being dishonest, because it prevented things from becoming too awkward.

Well, one could argue that the entirely of this day had been awkward. He'd rather think THAT than reflect too much on just how deadly it could have become (or had become, if you count that crow). Smiling, he held up his good wing against the spray of water, sweeping some back at Azimene as he did so. "Well, your observational skills seem to have stood you in good stead, Azi; considering I've spent years of my life wrestingly my Kalona cousins, I don't think I did that much more than you in that fight! Clearly I could have saved myself come injuries and just watched," he said with a chuckle. "Or maybe I just needed to be a female."

At her praise of his own role in the fight, Guirien allowed himself a modest shrug. His adrenaline rush was starting to wind down, but thinking about their fight, his first REAL fight, was enough to start the process all over again. "Well, thanks, Azi. I'm just glad we were able to do what we did today; I'm right there with you on calling it good for a while...at least until we've had a chance to heal up from this fight. Though," he said with a slight duck of his head as he looked back at Azimene, "I'd be happy to have you have my back next time, too." It was nice, having her along with him. He hadn't had a friend he felt so comfortable with in ages; it had been a long time since he had been totally open with even Corsant. Yes, he hadn't told Azimene everything, but it wasn't like he was going out of his way to conceal anything, either. She was just...easy to feel comfortably with.

Since it had been Guirien's entire strategy to strike first and damage the Kalona before he had a chance to react, Guirien could appreciate the compliment in Azimene's words. It still bothered him a teeny tiny amount to have been the first to attack; he'd been brought up with 'defensive fighting' firmly hammered into him by his uncle. However, he doubted that Antony would have faulted him for making the first attack under the circumstances; one had only to watch the Kalona's body language and listen to the way he spoke to know that he was up to no good.

Still, old habits and morals die hard.

Guirien contented himself with the knowledge that he and Azimene were alive and mostly well, which was more than the Kalona and definitely more than that bird of his could say. At Azimene's somewhat vindictive remark about the dead raven, Guirien's eyes flashed in a malicious agreement. "You certainly have a point there, Azi; if we made him think twice about being such a bully in the future, then I would consider every single one of these injuries well-earned. Every one of my injuries, anyway," he amended with a critical look back at her. The downside of Azi being white was that it was impossible to tell if her 'color' was off; there was no way to tell if she'd gone pale!

But he was attentive all the same, and at her forlorn query about the river, he came to a stop. They'd been walking downriver for quite some time now, the dead bird far in their wake and several bends out of sight; consequently, he drew his lips together in a thought as he considered their options. Looking downriver further, he saw a rocky, awkward looking bank topped with some large slanting boulders. It didn't look comfortable, but it did look like a place they could leave the river withough attracting too much attention or leaving too much scent. And maybe they could even take a rest there, hidden from view by the large boulders.

Nodding towards the rocky bank, he asked, "Do you think you can make it down to there, Azi? It doesn't look pretty, but it might be a good place to rest out of sight from the sky. I'd rather not travel out here in the open any more until we have some darkness."