Sleepy Fox Hollow piltover

colosseum met the challenge with a violent thunder in his chest, nostrils flaring wide as he snorted, the sound deep and guttural. the opposing stallion's damascan bronze shimmered in the light, but it was no match for the steel-grey storm of colosseum's frame. his ears flattened, tail snapping with agitation as he began the slow, deliberate circle, his hooves carving crescents into the dirt.

his mane whipped like battle banners, a haughty toss of his head sending sweat scattering into the dry air. he pressed forward with juggernaut force, his massive body crowding the stallion’s space without hesitation. the faint scent of mares teased his senses, but his focus never wavered. dominance first. always.

their muzzles brushed briefly, colosseum drinking in the scent of his rival with a series of sharp snuffs and chuffs, the acrid taste of competition burning in his throat. the proximity was electric, his heaving chest brushing against the other as he stood firm, neck arched and muscles corded tight.

a sudden stomp, his forehoof cracking against the earth like thunder. he swung his massive frame with deceptive speed, his flank twisting just enough to suggest the threat of a kick, his hind legs coiling with restrained violence. the whites of his eyes flashed as he issued a deep, chuffing growl, daring the other to make the first mistake.