PART TWO OF THREE

(Do you wish your scoop destroyed?) She asked.

(No,) I responded. I'd given up trying to decipher her non sequiturs. She used them to make condescending points, and it was easier to allow her.

(Then perhaps we should venture elsewhere,) she said. (I assume you are an uncontrolled and undisciplined tail fighter.)

To my surprise, I laughed. (Believe what you must,) I gloated.

Hands folded behind her back, she slowly made her way to the meadow where we both fed, beckoning me to follow with an impatient, glowing stalk eye.

She twirled her tail around in the air, a thick package of muscle and power moving nearly independently from her body. Her long pink blade shimmered in the sun: healthy, marbled, and sharp. My own male version paled, flaking slightly from bad upkeep. I couldn't keep cutting into trees to exfoliate it. I wondered how she kept hers so pristine.

(What form are you planning to use?) She asked as she turned to me.

(I'm not telling you that,) I scoffed. How brazen, how shameless to ask for my exact plan of attack!

(No, I suppose not. It does not matter. I shall know soon,) she said.

(What form are you going to use on me?) I asked, gently mocking her.

Slowly, her eyes passed up and down my body, arms still securely held behind her back. (Beta series, level two,) she responded. My eyes widened in surprise, partly because she had graded me as a bigger threat than I ever considered myself, and partly that she had the inclination to tell me at all.

I suddenly realized what she was doing and laughed. (Pre-combat deception and aversion,) I said, smiling. (You'd never honestly tell me what form you were going to use against me.)

(Why wouldn't I?) She asked. I began to doubt myself, falling for what I was sure was her sly manipulation.

(Because...we're going to fight. You'd be giving me an unfair advantage.)

(We are not fighting, aristh. We are sparring. Training. Learning,) she explained. (Any advantage I give you is so you will learn. Do you know how to prepare for a beta-2 attack?)

I passed my eyes over her once more, not sure I believed her. (You'll aim high,) I said. (For my neck, eyes, and head. I should begin defensively, try and frustrate you so you'll make a mistake.)

(Do you think you can frustrate me, aristh?) She asked, stepping forward and turning sideways, taking her fighting stance.

(Ah, you fight in the open position,) I said, another smile coming to my eyes. (It provides you with a greater range at the expense of vulnerability. Most consider that form archaic. Too dangerous.)

(Most are too cautious,) she responded. She stretched out her tail, each vertebrae locking into place, forming into a long, hard staff. Then she relaxed, and it curled long above her, turning slowly in its ascent 90 degrees so her tail blade was facing me. It twitched eagerly, ready, poised. I watched it carefully with my right stalk eye, just as I had been instructed. It moved without pattern, which was a rudimentary but difficult skill to master. Of course, we hadn't even begun the fight, and that was a skill that decreased with exhaustion.

I tried to keep light on my hooves, tried to remember that speed and reaction were more important than strength. But the size of her blade scared me, and I found my hooves digging hard into the dirt to structure myself, preparing a strong blow I hoped would distract and overpower it.

I stood before her impatiently waiting for her to attack, but she only watched me, her eyes flat as ever, though I could swear there was a hint of amusement in them. Her tail flicked around everywhere, waiting and taunting.

Despite our review of how to defend against form Beta-2, I decided to attack first.

I faced her frontwards, and threw my tail over my head for her chest. Motionlessly, her own blade blocked it, brushing it aside like it was a pile of crumbs on a tabletop. I composed myself and took a step back, examining her movement, trying to find a weakness.

Her main eyes never left mine, and I felt the guilt from before mix in with the fear of her flawless parry, and I was suddenly unsure that I could keep looking at her.

Ignore it, I thought to myself. Don't feel, think.

I breathed deeply and kept gazing into her inscrutable eyes. I struck again, aiming for her flank this time. Again, motionless, her tail blade was there to intercept. I couldn't even fathom how it got there, it moved so fast. Again, she flicked away my own blade. She hadn't moved at all, still standing in the same position she had set herself in. Even her stalk eyes remained static, content to gaze at my hooves and arms.

I felt frustration rise up in me. Twice I had struck to gain some insight into her fighting, and twice she had left me with nothing but humiliation. I set my hooves in the dirt and flung my tail blade at her as hard as I could.

Again, she blocked easily, but this time there was shock to absorb. I saw her tail buckle slightly at the force.

So that's how to do it, I thought. Brute strength.

Before she had a chance to reset herself, I struck again, throwing all of my back and legs into the blow. I wasn't even aiming, just pouring all of my strength into my tail, screaming through the air aiming right between her stalk eyes.

The blow ended up coming down straight over her head. It would have been fatal, bifurcating her brain, had her tail blade not been there as a perfect shield, making a loud, cracking sound that reverberated through the meadow.

My tail blade chipped and got stuck in hers. She took the opportunity to twist her tail in little circles, contorting my tail like a finger that screamed in protest and finally snapped from the pressure. She pulled her blade from mine and took a few steps back, allowing me to survey the damage.

I looked up at my tail blade with a stalk eye. She had chipped away a large divot in the middle of my blade, like a dent in an old fingernail. I swung my tail around, trying to find the muscle she had pulled, but it seemed that all she had done was pop a stiff joint. My tail moved more freely than before.

I looked up at her again, her eyes as flat and emotionless as ever. A thin veil of sweat outlined her forehead and cheeks, and her shoulders rose and fell rhythmically with aerobic breath. I touched my own forehead, feeling sweat drip down freely, much less modest in this thick, hot Earth air. I wiped it away and approached her.

Seeing her physical deterioration inspired a sudden rush of confidence and I decided to try some of the forms she suggested. She turned sideways and snapped her tail up into ready position. I lunged forward, aiming for the middle of her flank, and her tail curled down to block mine. Twitching it in front of her, like she was supposed to, I used her momentum and turned my blade upward, aiming for her throat. She caught my blade from underneath and shoved it back towards me. I took a step back and moved to my right, toward her back, forcing her to change her footing. She circled, facing me the same way always, main eyes on mine and stalk eyes on my hooves and arms.

We continued for a while, attack and parry, until I was exhausted, heaving in saturated Earth air, my lungs craving something fresher and cooler. Sweat poured down my chest, flanks, and forehead, and my shins felt sticky with thirst. I looked up at her, and though she was breathing just as heavily as I, less sweaty, but still clearly exhausted, her tail still twitched randomly. She gave no other sign of weakness besides the necessary ones her body required.

I rubbed the sweat from the back of my neck and gave one more feeble blow that was meant to be strong—she sensed my exhaustion and threw my blade aside with less force than before. She was going easy on me.

(That's it!) I screamed suddenly, overcome with frustration. (This is pointless! Just attack me already!)

(Very well, aristh,) she said, and her demeanor changed entirely. A mechanical mania came to those empty eyes, and though I wanted to call it emotion, that's not what it was. It was like a program. A switch had been flipped, and as proper, disciplined, and obeisant a warrior she was off the battlefield, she was fierce, cruel, and effective on it. It was a jarring change, but it made sense. This was what she unleashed, what she needed to keep caged, what she unlocked when the situation called for it. Yet it was unnatural and contrived. She was acting. Pretending. Lying.

Her tail moved faster than my eyes could follow. It whipped around her, making quick, moaning, whooshing sounds, a pink blur in the pale sunlight.

I quickly regretted the challenge, and hot prickles rose up my back. I watched her closely, though it was difficult to keep gazing into those hard, merciless eyes. I watched the base of her tail and her hooves and decided to let instinct take over.

I blocked the first couple of her blows. I recognized that she was using the Beta-2 form, though she was mixing in elements of Alpha-7 and Gamma-4. One instant I blocked a blow designed to slice my neck, the next, I was protecting my shoulder from dismemberment. I fell behind in the rhythms, so that I was just barely catching her tail blade before it met its target.

Finally, I missed.

I felt hot, glowing, screaming pain erupt from the top of my left stalk eye, and it went blind. I reeled backwards, my hands feebly trying to squeeze out the pain, and I felt hot, slimy blood, not yet even dried into stickiness, cover my hands.

But she did not relent.

She continued slicing, her tail moving in astutely preconceived patterns, unreadable and invisible. I felt slices open up all over me, as though something from inside was cutting me open to escape. Despite her clear advantage, she was not going for killing blows. The strikes were random. I tried to keep blocking her, but now that I was half blind, there was little I could do. Finally, with the blunt end of her tail blade, she hit me in both of my shins so fast it felt simultaneous. Lightning struck through my legs, I dropped to my knees, and her tail blade was at my throat.

I blinked out the sunlight and the stream of blood and looked up at her. Her eyes were still hard, green like jade, but they softened slowly after gazing down at me, returning to their flat, emotionless state. She pulled her tail away, and though I knew she had perfect self-control, she nicked me a little.

I kept gazing into her eyes, both too afraid to look away and too afraid to hold it. She was breathing hard, but a final long sigh returned her to her natural state. (You clench your left fist right before you strike,) she said. (The imbalance in your left hind leg surrenders where your blow will land within fifteen degrees.)

I tried to catch my breath, but the throbbing, shooting, spicy pain still ripped through me. I held her gaze, though I wanted to look away in shame. (Thank you, Prince,) I said appropriately. (I appreciate the skill and wisdom you imparted to me. I realize I have much to learn, and I hope you will feel inclined to impart more wisdom and skill in the near future.) My words were rehearsed, a part of a rather pervasive and customary ritual, but she seemed shocked by them. I reached up with my hand for her to pull me to my hooves, but her eyes narrowed, and she only gazed at it before turning around.

(We will train again. You are not unsalvageable,) she noted as she made her way slowly back to the scoop, hands still tucked behind her back.

I morphed to human on the spot and didn't return to the scoop in time for her to leave. I felt humiliated. My nagging desire to see her changed immediately to disgust and aversion, half for her and half for myself. She hadn't just beaten me. If we had really been dueling, it wouldn't have even been a challenge for her.

I sat in the clearing until Tobias swooped down from his hunt.

(You haven't resorted to eating grass and dirt, have you?) He asked

"Hello, Tobias," I responded.

(You all right, Ax-man?) He fluttered uncharacteristically to the ground so he could look me straight in the eye.

"I suppose so." He gazed at me for a while before responding.

(We really have to squeeze this crush out of you, don't we?)

"If we squeeze what is already crushing me, I shall be entirely pulverized."

(Well, then let's blow it up. Some sawdust, gasoline, orange juice. There was something else. Rachel and I saw Fight Club last night.)

"If we are going to blow something up, I'm sure we can find something a little more potent than orange juice here."

(Oh, right, she's got a lot of that...stuff, doesn't she?) His sneer was evident even in hawk form. Tobias had wanted me to peruse her medical box the first time she had stepped hoof off of our land, but I had refused, respecting her privacy and wanting to uphold what little trust our tenuous relationship had produced.

I rose to a standing position and swept off the twigs, dirt, and grass that had accumulated on my skintight shorts. I looked through the forest, hoping to see whether she was still at the scoop, but my human eyesight was too weak.

"Is she gone?" I asked him. Tobias hopped around and peered into the forest.

(Yeah, she took that leotard. I thought it was Rachel's. Where did she get a leotard?)

I made my way slowly back to the scoop. Tobias hopped into the air, gaining altitude so he could fly over the trees. It took him a while to get high enough. By the time he arrived at the scoop, I was already searching.

(You're finally looking for that box, aren't you?) Tobias asked after I had already strewn around what little clothing and human food I had.

"I only wish to see what she has," I said. It was partly true. Such a skilled tail fighter must have all sorts of interesting and useful weapons, and it was inefficient for her to keep them for herself. But our encounter had reinvigorated my curiosity about her, and I felt there was something in that box that would explain everything. I decided to act before the crushing reality of the consequences would convince me not to.

(You don't need to explain yourself to me. I told you to look in that thing weeks ago.)

"Insubordination is a serious and punishable offense," I said. "If she finds out I'm looking, she will be able to administer the appropriate consequences."

(Well, we certainly don't want to give her another excuse to kill us,) Tobias said with a strange, insincere tone.