Vesper was not used to being kept on the defensive. She had been defeated before, curled in a ball and using brandished teeth to keep her torturers at bay, or she would use space and quick techniques to escape. However, there was no running from lessons, and she knew that she would find herself backed up against a wall—metaphorical or physical—in the future. As much as this lesson surprisingly strained her mind and newly shifted body, she needed this. Whatever deities might exist, gods or Lady Fortuna herself, had seen her need and fulfilled it in the shape of the Nomad.
X’yrin withdrew her darkly gloved arm then thrust out the other, in a motion that the hybrid noticed with a kind of rushed, desperate swiftness; the sparring was definitely testing her by putting her in the middle of danger. She saw the claws coming toward her neck then jerked her body once more, this time half-lunging to lightly bite the hand that had reached for her. Just as suddenly she would draw back, paws splayed on the rocky terrain; it was all she could do not to look down in this awkward body, trying to remember the ways her lupus form moved when confronted with uneven turf.
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