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The multicolored male had successfully gotten himself into an excited state of mind. His heart had gone up from normal, and his sight had nearly become a tunnel vision focus on Amy. He carefully watched her step back take a stance and adjust the hand placement on her blade. Noting the features of her sword he wondered what kind it was she possessed, it was different from the type he had back in his den.
Gingerly moving along the sopping wet earth Amy had been the first to make a move by striking forward with her sword. It was obvious she wasn’t really ready to get down to business yet. Mido caught her blade in the notch on the back side of his Kama and fluidly pushed it away from his body. The male loved his scythe like mini blades; they were a great defense and had sinister offensive capabilities as well. His icy blues remained on her, combing over her body, the way she held herself told him this wasn’t the first rodeo she been to. He locked eyes with her before stepping toward her with the opposite foot and swinging toward her horizontally from right to left. His strike wasn’t crude, it had been rhythmic and speedy, but he would never intentionally harm a pack member, which just wasn’t his style. She could easily avoid it entirely, she could stop it with her own weapon, the female had many options at her disposal.
The Dasa found himself on a very slippery incline in the ground. He dashed back away from her to more solid ground, digging his claws into the mud he made sure he wouldn’t slip up. She’s no Amateur. He grinned happily, the dirt he’d kicked up blended with the brown fur on his legs. He might leave himself open if he wasn’t careful, but if he could help it he wasn’t just going to hand it to her.
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