sovereign state

Vesper · 03-23-2012, 08:30 PM

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Word Count :: 300

I don't mind how long we continue this, but if you do for some reason want to wrap up, we can have it fade out with them sparring. Smile

His remark about scars had her tilting her ears back, disagreeing although she said nothing on this point. Vesper knew that some couldn’t help being disfigured as a result of violence, and she agreed that the number of scars marring one form did not equal their skill level. However, Inferni had a culture that respected those who carried trophies from their battles. Even if a child had been shredded by her father’s teeth, herself too young to have any real skill, the child had still survived. The child had not died like weaker children might. And the child was watching the dark male with narrow blue eyes now, holding her opinions close but silent.

Likewise she didn’t want to make any more of his change of shape than needed to be made; she’d left the option up to him. His body shrank to lupus form and then, without another second of wasted time, lunged toward her like a quick shadow.

Had Vesper been in optime, the attack would have caught her off guard; she might have been able to half-dodge or parry the blow with a clumsily raised arm and an undignified yelp. She had been born and raised on four legs, however, had survived on four legs—and so she leaped backwards as he sped toward her.

“Everyone scars,” the tawny coywolf growled, and took advantage of his moving frame to close the distance between them. She jumped at his own shoulder but would not pause to bite even if she connected; her limbs and balance were already shifting to bring her out of harm’s way again. Dancing and using space and speed to her advantage—the way of the coyote—it was something she could triumph at even though her punches rained only weakly on the leather bag.

the Mentors!

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