[PRP] Gulp... (( Will and Lightning ))

[Moire Frost]

Will's short, dark hair flew in the wind behind him as he sprinted through the meadow, his hooves becoming blurs in the burnt brown grasses. Great, black clouds loomed overhead, and the distant rumble of thunder seemed to echo constantly. Jolts of lightning struck at the ground near the frightened stallion's meadow, and began to shake uncontrollably.

Will hated storms. No matter how many he was in, they always brought with them a sense of foreboding, as if to warn of bad incidents about to occur. He felt uneasy, and stopped in his tracks, skidding a little as the heavy rains poured down upon the once-dry earth and made it soppy and wet. He looked around him and called out sadly, as if he hoped that someone would rescue him from the danger of the storm.  

[Crowfoot]

Lightning had been skulking about, looking for anything he could practice his hobby on. The stench of rain was thick in his nostrils, like musty wood. An ear flicked towards the sounds of thunder, uninterested for the most part. All he was worried about was the rain. Lightning hated it. Everything got wet, even his pelt. And it would still be wet.. for like, a week. And then it would dry, and stretch. Not fun.

A cry? the skinwalker flipped the coyote head out of his eyes, and looked around. What was that? nervously looking up at the stormy sky, Lightning hurried towards the sound, hoping to find the one who made it.. and reprimand it for.. disturbing the peace.  

[Moire Frost]

Will called out again, his voice becoming shrill and worrisome.

Then he realized what a complete fool he was.

He ceased his desperate calls, laying his hears back against his head. He thought he might have heard something not too far off in the distance; he had called danger directly to himself.

"Will," he said, trying to calm himself down. "You're such an idiot, you're bound to have gotten yourself killed eventually."  

[Crowfoot]

Lightning smiled as he found the source, a stallion wearing two legger clothes. Oh, how he wanted to speak out, and say 'Eventually would be now.' But that would alert him.. And it was hilarious watching this stallion cry so shrilly. For now.. He would just.. wait. The skinwalker crept up behind the clothed soquili, as silently as possible.
Now, time to think of how to kill it. It would be hard, without any sharp teeth. Was it dark out, yet? Lightning looked up to the horizon, but saw only clouds.  

[Moire Frost]

Will, trying not to convey the body language of someone who knew they were about to die, swiveled his ears back and called out shortly, "I know you're there. You can come out now."

His voice wavered slightly, but that didn't matter. He held his head high and turned to face the invisible foe.  

[Crowfoot]

Lightning faltered slightly. Damn, so much for that. He would just leap at him when.. Oh, crap, he turned. The skinwalker grinned weakly, and said, "Suprise!" Leap! All he had to do was leap! Or kick! So he kicked, aiming his leg high, towards the clothed soquili's chest.  

[Moire Frost]

The sharp blow hit Will in the chest, sending him backwards onto his bottom. It became hard for him to breathe, but he kept going. "Hi, I'm Will!" he panted, racing past the skinwalker and kicking at its side. "And who might you be?"  

[Crowfoot]

Lightning grinned as the soquili landed on it's rear end, and was caught by suprise when he got back up. He tried to dodge the kick, but was too slow, and it hit him in the ribs. "Ack!" The skinwalker cried out, and his front legs buckled, but he caught himself and heatedly and charged at this.. Will, snarling out a reply, "Lightning!" Before kicking at Will's flank.  

[Moire Frost]

The kick grazed Will's flank and left a small indent where the hoof had scraped across.

"Well," he panted again, charging up beside the skinwalker and lashing out with his hooves, his teeth bared. "I'm sorry we had to meet under such irregular circumstances."