Chat is suddenly not loading for me, btw. I didn't want you to think I got angry about the title and disappeared, so I hope you see this.
The coyote looked from the dusty male, to the dagger in her hands. She didn't actually want to hurt him - of course, the only way to increase her skill was to practice. Besides, he was an experienced fighter, and he'd surely be able to dodge her and chances were, she'd be lucky to get a hit in. Still, just in case, she would try not to attack his vital organs.
Alma looked down at her knife to make sure she was holding it correctly, then spread her feet apart for more balance and eyed the male. Where to attack, where to attack? Not the chest, not the stomach and not the throat or face. What did that leave her with, then? The arms, the shoulders, the legs - although the latter struck her as more difficult.
The coyote jumped forward, slashing with her dagger. She aimed for his arms with the upswing, and his legs with the downswing. Regardless of whether or not she hit, she moved to the side and to the back, then forward again to attack once more. If this were a real fight, she would have to keep moving and escaping in case her opponent tried to retaliate. Alma felt a rush of heat flow through her veins; something about this was quite enjoyable. Perhaps the lack of true danger, or the need to not protect anyone but herself made it enjoyable.
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