play till tears roll down your cheek and chin

tall, slim, elegant, regal, flaxen mane/tail, long/slim legs, white snip, deep blue eyes, 17 hh, reference here.

chaotically evil, maniacal, charming, witty, powerful, bemusing, ambitious, bold, dark, persuasive, intelligent, funny, secretive, manipulative.

There was a piano in the background, a faint plinking of keys as each moment passed in agony. I told myself that I was all right—I am okay. The grip I possessed on my mind was slowly slipping away, dripping slimily down my neck and over my spine. I wanted to tear into the ground, slam my hooves passionately into the hard earth. If I allowed myself to succumb to the pull of adrenaline, I would surely destroy my opponent and myself. Not that I believed I could pulverize Charlie, but I would do everything in my power to do so.

An outburst of laughter, or that is what it sounded like to me, to preface a response, “And Fire, I can finally put a face to the name.” In actuality, Charlie was a formidable and composed foe. I should feel fear.

Compose yourself. Compose myself? I was composed, controlled, convinced that I could handle a fight with a man the size of a monster. The seconds it took to execute my attack were used against me; Charlie was obviously wizened in battle. My hooves connected with hardened flesh. The satisfaction of feeling a slice in the man’s hip overwhelmed me, nearly washed away the sudden alarm bells in my chest. Charlie’s hooves had risen to meet my falling front. A wheeze almost escaped my mouth as I came back to the earth, but I gritted my teeth and held my breathe. There was no way I would allow myself to truly feel the bruises in my diaphragm; it took only a half of a second to lurch into action. I easily matched Charlie’s quick movements—agility and speed ran hungrily through my veins.

If a pursuit was what he wanted, a pursuit was what he would receive. I cut the left corner he created in the snow, practically matched his position. I was running smoothly on his left side, neck outstretched and teeth bared. I noted the direction of the opposing king’s path: darkness. The tree line would trap one of us, and I would fight tooth and nail to keep myself from the scraping bark. I already had apprehension about the lighting of this clearing, and Charlie knew exactly what he was doing.

A slight turn of the man’s head was all I needed to know that the dunskin draft was gauging my position. I grinned exhilaratingly, matched madness with madness.

I knew that there was a slim chance that I would come out of this unscathed, yet still I battled like a lion protecting his pride. Charlie was a looming figure in the distance, a tall man still unnamed, one snap of a twig—not enough to frighten me. Everything I observed came in adrenaline-fueled slow motion: each particle of snow we kicked up gleamed and sparkled in my eye; the rapid pulse of my adversary’s legs beat with the tune of a calm heart; Charlie’s swirling breath was no longer erratic but purposeful and smooth. The mania of battle I promised I would not feel swept capriciously through my blood.

Long legs were abruptly to my advantage. I leapt forward, destroyed the downy obstacle with my fiery limbs, and ran full-force toward Charlie’s side. I knew that my speed and slim body would be what gave me the extra shove to get ahead of the large ruler.

Our collision was nothing short of shocking, though I was aware of what I was doing. I threw my head forward with my mouth open, snapped my teeth down on whatever was within reach. My chest connected with something, though I could not tell what through the haze of fever and bone. The point was to throw Charlie off-balance and flat on the ground (if I was ever so lucky). Looking back on that offensive, I realized that it was not advantageous to my smarting chest.

I stumbled slightly to the left but kept a rapid pace toward the tree line. The ground was slick where I turned, but I managed to keep my footing as I turned to the right. Just before crashing headlong into a tree, I reared up and spun on my back hooves. With the momentum of my sudden stop, I surged forward and away—handed the chase to Charlie.

Each inhale of air burned my lungs, my nostrils, and my chest. I feared the madness would seep away.