This was...getting to be very difficult. One was commanding her to attack, while the other called for a distraction, one sought to end this in a swift strike to vitals and limbs, while one seeked to have the boars go off on their own at peace and very much alive. And not to mention...this guard was practically useless. He claimed that they could keep the corpses of the boars, which, while the pelts would no doubt be worth a pretty penny, she had the distinct feeling that her nature wizard friend would highly object due to her not asking for the parents to just be shot right away. That aside, slaying boars this size was no easy task. Had Steppe Archer known that she'd need to hunt such aggressive game, she'd have made a rudimentary poison to try and fell beasts. It was amazing how just a little bit of dung around an arrowhead made them as deadly as any alchemist's basic poison. Made the meat worthless though. 

Steppe Archer would watch in awe as the Lizardman took his stance, an almost primal understanding of the difference in power between a human and a lizardman becoming clear in her mind. It was no wonder why she'd heard many humans declare their fear of Lizardman warriors, with their scaly hides acting as natural armor, and their tails looking more deadly than any rookie soldier's mace. But, she had a feeling even his power couldn't hold out against a boar forever. This mix-matched plan of survival and saving was going to cost someone their life if it wasn't executed well, but just about any course of action that Steppe Archer could take split between aiding either the Lizardman or the Magi. Wild animals weren't wholly stupid, so the Lizardman's brave beastial style of challenging it would buy him time enough to see where it would strick from, but that didn't mean that victory was his. One good pierce from the tusk and he'd need a cleric, at best, his rites read at worst. But then, an idea struck her.

Steppe Archer would do the only thing she thought was right in this situation...And that was to make a mad dash past the male boar once the Lizardman's roar had sufficiently served to distract it, then slam herself upon its back, taking hold of its tusks in order to maintain a good grip upon it. Steppe Archer's thighs clamped down upon the beast's hips. Her intention was clear: A contest of wills between a wild beast and a person on its back only had one conclusion.

One would have to be broken. Physically, or Spiritually.

[color=CC6633][b]"W-Woah!"[/b][/color] Steppe Archer would yell out, the awkward position almost making her easy to throw off. Almost. She'd practically spent her life on the back of a horse, accustomed to the slight jerks and movements one could feel from a beast supporting them. Every movement of the boar's body was predictable as Steppe Archer felt the contraction and extension of muscles, the girl's own lower body strength letting her hold on. But, likely not forever. She'd either have to count on the boar tiring itself out with fearsome bucks and charges, or find some way to escape goring after letting go. The Lizardman would no doubt find this foolish, but would now find that the boar had absolutely no means to attack him with, lest it just try and charge with brunt force. Steppe Archer used her arms to jerk the head side-to-side, preventing it from having a straight angle. Just before the boar would run at full speed to try and shake her off, the archer would yell out: [color=CC6633][b]"GO HELP HER! I CAN HANDLE THIS!"[/b][/color]

Whether that was truth or fiction, one couldn't say, but the girl of the Steppes wouldn't allow herself to lose to a hog. Nor would she lose to anything with four legs and a back broad enough to straddle.