ORIGIN

Well, this had been a disaster. The horse had chased her down, caught up to her, and now she'd trampled her. She had time to consider, as Delphine's gemstone horn caught her and gored her in the side, tossing her bodily into the air, just how unfair this all was.

All she'd wanted was a mango.

The dingo became aware of a sharp, piercing pain in her ribs just before her face impacted the dirt. A heat began to bleed into her coat, and she let out a sharp and piercing yelp, almost a scream, as she rolled away. Her side and her leg ached, and she found that she couldn't put her full weight on her right foreleg anymore, where one of Delphine's hooves had caught her--it nearly buckled beneath her as she stood and so she merely picked it up, as she rolled to her feet to face her opponent.

Her hackles were on end, her fur standing in all directions and now matted with blood and mud, still dripping from the stream. She let out a loud growl, her fangs all bared again, her heart racing in her chest. The horse was still kicking out and so the dingo--though her instincts were edging toward "flight" over "fight" with every kick of the horse--made another lunge.

She tried to dart in on her three legs, to lunge up and get the horse where it'd hurt--and to put herself out of danger, past the lashing of the sharp and powerful hooves. The throat--if she could just get in there, latch on, maybe Delphine wouldn't be able to trample her. She'd have to get a grip and hold tight, though, and refuse to be shaken free.

If she failed here, she might just turn tail and run... if she still could.

She heard and felt the impact more than saw anything past the flurry of halcyon colors across her vision. The sickening tearing of flesh and crunching of bone awoke the part of her that'd fallen to the wayside in the midst of their fight, struck by the sudden reality of their situation. Delphine's heart nearly tore asunder when she heard the dingo scream and then, only then did she come to her senses. Her misery was quick to follow as her ears flattened completely against her skull and her gaze wildly and desperately sought those of the dingo. In that moment in which she'd let her guard down, the beast charged and successfully bit into her throat.

Delphine reared and shrieked once more, her voice lilting to unimaginable heights when her vision flashed a blinding white. She'd meant to apologize, she wanted nothing more than to do exactly that but in that moment, with her very lifeline caught between the canine's incisors, all sense was cast aside once more. Recklessly she tried to tap into her powers to perhaps shake the earth and swing the carnivore off but when nothing came to and her powers abandoned her altogether, the equine could only buck wildly as her head tossed to and fro. Her desperation to shake off her opponent had her charging through Eridanus, lugging about the both of them as her cries tore through their surroundings.

The irony of it all was... All she'd wanted was a mango.

Round: 3/???
Attempt: Just shake it off, shake it off!
Defense: Loads of kicking legs again cause she's a horse. :c
Injuries: Shallow scratches on her muzzle. A moderate bite wound on her throat.

Everything was happening so quickly.

The world was a blur, colors flashing overhead, the sounds of the horse squealing and snorting and the beating of hooves filling her ears. The hot scent of horseflesh and her own blood clouded her nostrils, and the faint thrill of triumph she felt did nothing to assuage the terror singing through her nerves beneath it.

Now, she had a problem.

She wanted to let go, to spring free and to bolt into the underbrush; she could feel vines and bushes whipping over her back, and if it hadn't been for her thick pelt, she'd have been lacerated a dozen times by now. But to release her grip meant she might be trampled.

Terrified and not having a clue as to what to do next, the dingo just hung on for dear life as the large black would-be mango thief tore through Eridanus. She wasn't doing damage, like this--she had no leverage to rip and tear, and hadn't gotten a windpipe or an artery. All she was doing was saving her own hide at this point.

It was taking effort, though; she was tired from this, her first true fight, and the bruising in her ribs and foreleg, the bleeding from her side, it tired her. She found herself struggling to keep her jaws clamped on the filly's neck, but she fought to keep her grip nonetheless. For now, at least.

The frenzy continued and her own hysteria only set in deeper as the weight upon her neck grew heavier with her own waning stamina. She could feel the sanguine ichor bleed across the widening punctures now tearing into gashes. She could feel her nature as a prey kicking in full force as her eyes widened and it was again in a sweep of instincts did she tap into her power, this time seeking to self-preserve at the expense of self-destruction. She could feel her magic sinking into the ground wherever her hoof touched, calling desperately upon the sands to rise to her defense but for all her effort, the only response was a dirt storm. It did nothing to aid in her attempts to shake off the dingo and instead served to cloud her vision as she stopped and swung again and again.

Her desperation quite nearly brought her to her knees if only to give herself the necessary leverage to jerk herself entirely free of the hound. The only reason she hadn't done exactly thus was the fear that she'd give her opponent the kind of footing she needed to deal proper damage to her and that was entirely unacceptable so she bucked to and fro, her screams growing hoarse yet persisting in its act of expression. She wanted the dingo off and she wanted her off, now.

Round: 4/???
Attempt: Oh I swearrrrr, if you don't get off... /shakes fist
Defense: Loads of kicking, head shaking, running; she's a hot mess.
Injuries: Shallow scratches on her muzzle. A moderate-severe bite wound/gash on her throat.

Fear fought with exhilaration as her opponent began to buck and leap, no longer charging like a maniac through the underbrush so much as flat-out wrecking it.

She was tired of clinging, despite the thrill of blood that seeped into her jaws now. She wanted out, wanted away, wanted to run back to the stream and find her food and hide forever from big violent unpredictable beasts such as Delphine.

Dirt began to lift from around them, smacking into her with stinging impacts, and she winced and flinched. She had to let go, now, before this got worse--had to flee. But could she do so without getting stomped? Now was the time, really--now, when she could try to drop down and bolt on three legs into the underbrush without falling beneath the galloping hooves.

She released her grip and scrambled for footing, trying to turn and run off without getting stomped. Whether she actually managed this safely remained to be seen.

Even as she felt the pressure release its iron grip on her nape, the intrinsic need to make sure she was completely safe from danger kept her still on edge. In a last-ditch effort, she called upon her powers and closed her eyes to the rush of earth and petrichor, scents that were often intertwined with the energy that ran through her. Finally she felt a familiar tug respond to her cries but what came was not the shaking earth as she expected but a slight tremor that barely shook the emerald sentries, better yet the grass upon the floors. Delphine, too crazed now to particularly care, merely reveled in her newfound isolation for she made no effort to chase the now missing dingo. Later when her senses were returned to her would she contemplate upon her failures to cast a singular spell when it was most necessary though she would question for sometime how any of this had come to transpire and how she could prevent such encounters again.

Now though, now she focused on her ragged breaths. Winced when she felt the rasping of an overused throat. For a Gembound who knew and desired only for love and acceptance, the violence that had manifested this day would haunt her for she would blame herself for approaching the dingo as insistently as she had and in the end, it had all been for a mango which— her gaze shot up, darting left and right before realizing then exactly how pointless their battle had been when even the treasure was lost on them. Guilt-ridden and laden with fatigue, Delphine collapsed upon the floors and curled there, crooning herself to sleep with blood to taint her thoughts.

Round: 5/???
Attempt: And don't you come back!
Defense: Zippo. c:
Injuries: Shallow scratches on her muzzle. A moderate-severe bite wound/gash on her throat.

exit delphine!

Character: Delphine Age: +2 (2 Cycles) Magic Level: +3 (Pupil) ROUND 1 Attempt: +14 Penalties: 0 ROUND 2 Attempt: +20 Penalties: 0 ROUND 3 Attempt: +3 Penalties: 0 ROUND 4 Attempt: +7 Penalties: 0 ROUND 5 Attempt: +6 Penalties: 0 Total: 55

Character: Feral Age: +3 (3 Cycles) Magic Level: +1 (Fledgling) ROUND 1 Attempt: +13 Penalties: 0 ROUND 2 Attempt: +1 Penalties: 0 ROUND 3 Attempt: +18 Penalties: 0 ROUND 4 Attempt: +16 Penalties: 0 ROUND 5 Attempt: +15 Penalties: 0 Total: 67

WINNER: Feral
RIP mango.

She ran, limping, bolting, panting, whimpering.

She ran, and ran, and ran, wondering why the hell the big black thing had had to attack her when food was plentiful here. Wondering why it hurt to put any weight on her paw; wondering if the pain in her ribs and the bloody hole in her side would ever fade.

It hurt.

She eventually turned and dropped down beneath some ferns, leaning over to lick her wounds and catch her breath, panting, her lips pulled far back in a grimace of stress and fear.

Eventually she decided to move on, standing and trotting off with a nervous, limping gait, heading back down to the stream. She was warier now, flighty, afraid that black horses would fall from the sky or burst out of the shadows and trample her.

Exhausted, she lapped at the water for awhile to quench her thirst, then turned, making her way quickly downstream.

Maybe, if she was fast enough, she could find the mango.