"Use the horse," Ingolsol tempted him. "You'll ruin him in an instant if you do."
Oliver flinched by the rightness of those tempting words. He could envisage it, even before he did it, but still, he was held back from carrying the act out.
"Tsch – then at least make him dance around the beast. He'll be more careful, not to defile his companion," Ingolsol spat, making his disgust evident.
That was, at least, something that Oliver could do as a compromise. Quite pointedly, he dashed in the direction of the horse's corpse, setting it between himself and Talon.
"You've no shame…" Talon said, incredulous. "Are you that desperate to win?"
"Are you so desperate to lose?" Oliver asked.
The General snorted in irritation, and came to close the gap, but Oliver's style still hadn't changed. The second the man came close, Oliver's kick flew, flicking up through the already wide circle of horse's blood, and casting it all over the General.
