Without telegraphing the move, she hopped up and lashed her hinds around Diamond's barrel, lacing her rear fetlocks behind his back. She expected him to fall forward, or at least drop to his stifles, but he bore her weight and maintained his bearhug, his biceps looking massive against her trim torso. Her ribs ached, and her lungs burned in his grip, but with two legs choking his neck and two more crushing his middle, the advantage was Rarity's. She dug her forearm into Diamond's throat latch and straightened her hinds, flexing all four legs with an arduous grunt.