ORIGIN

Let it not be said that either of them were excellent combatants. As clumsy, violent children, both seemed to be hitting underbrush far more than one another.

And if Ivory were perhaps more skilled, she'd have used other tactics. Maybe she would resort to another strategy in a moment--but right now, her anger drove her, and everything was still "bash it with your head."

Her blunt facial horns hooked downward again and she spun, less agile than Zoya in the undergrowth. She didn't speak (though some part of her wondered just what the hell a "vibe" was). She just barreled into yet another clumsy charge, again trying to headbutt Zoya. This time, though, she tried to do it head-on. Hopefully her stone would protect her from the worst the little bastard's horns had to offer; maybe she could even knock her out.

If Zoya turned away, she'd aim for shoulders or ribs... whatever she could get at, really. It seemed a little too much to ask, though, to actually have one of the children strike the other, again; Ivory's thrust tore through a few vines, ripping leaves all around her, but did little to actually strike anything.

Ivory snorted furiously. Neither of them were doing very well--just two clumsy children lashing blindly at one another. As Zoya near-perfectly mimicked Ivory's own failure, headbutting into the bushes and thrashing them--she recognized, with savage glee, an opening to attack.

Ivory whirled, to face away, this time; and--instinct driving her--she rocked forward and lashed out sharply with a kick of both her hind hooves. She aimed straight for the stranger's head where it was lowered into the bushes. She was hoping to just knock Zoya straight into unconsciousness, but she didn't really know how to fight well enough to guarantee it.

"GO AWAY," she bellowed (as best a youngster could, at least) "UNTIL YOU LEARN MANNERS!"

She felt her own hooves lash uselessly through underbrush, and grunted as she caught her balance.

Ivory gave only the shortest chase, after she'd untangled herself from some underbrush--a bluff charge and an angry snort.

The other creature had, in her mind, been totally in the wrong. She'd just been grazing, minding her own business, when it'd popped up insulting her--and then had attacked her, to boot.

It ran away, but it better not come back, she decided, her sides heaving and anger fuelling the adrenaline in her. She glanced at her side, at the blood dripping across her white coat, and horror spiked in her.

She'd have to go back to Father, then--to Shango--and see what she should do about this. But a seed of hatred--hot and deep--was planted for the idiot gold calf, that day.