Each blow fell and was met and Ezekiel lost himself in the dance. His body moved instinctively, but he thought about each move and recognized the flaws within them. Front paws collided with Ezekiel’s bony head, a blow that staggered him and sent him tumbling as their fall landed. He hit the ground and realized he had been had, and frustrated, scrambled up and away. With the distance separating them, the scarred hybrid bared his teeth in an almost mocking manner.
“Haven’t lost your touch, uncle,” Ezekiel called out, body losing its aggressive posture as he slid onto his haunches. The Secui form did not suit him, and more readily echoed the reflection of his father within its build. His eyes were bright, filled with the pent-up violence that he had not been able to display. Even from that short scuffle, he realized that Hybrid was not the type of man he needed to meet in battle. He didn’t understand.
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