For a second Itzal hoped that she would choice to stop the sparring and do something stupid. With her body so close to his and her scent around him, Itzal was okay with anyone seeing anything, as long as he didn't lose her touch. But Itzal knew that now wasn't the time or place. Not yet, he told himself, but soon. Axelle couldn't deny the spark between them. It had been forming since their first meeting and now it felt like it was in full overdrive. Itzal was just about to tell her to screw the sparring, when she saved them both. Itzal's face was pointed upwards and he felt the hilt of her sword press against the soft tissue under his chin. It was an understatement to say he felt vulnerable. But he had to grin. Only Axelle could put him in these kind of position without him lashing out and losing control. Eztli wanted Itzal to reach up and rip her throat out but he knew that Itzal wouldn't do that. At least, not so easily. So instead he just contented himself with growling to Itzal in his head. And Itzal could swear he heard some strong words among the growling.
Itzal felt the tip of the blade slide lightly across his chest. He wasn't sure if it had cut him or just his fur, but either way the cut couldn't be bad enough to stop him. Itzal copied her stance, his slightly different to accommodate for his different style. Then he went at her. First he aimed a cut low for her hip, then he spun on his back heel, bring the sword around in a back slash towards her head, trying to catch her with out time to react, and then he brought the pommel of the sword arching towards her abdomen, hoping to land a good strike on her diaphragm. Itzal knew it would be a good hit if it landed. He had just enough control behind it to knock the breathe out of her without doing any serious damage. He knew that, though part of him still wanted to hurt her. The part of him that saw her as an enemy. But he would never do that. Never.
As Itzal moved back, to dodge any counter attacks, he grinned at her. "Yes. I guess we reflect him now and how good of a teacher he was. I think he would be proud." Itzal said, chuckling softly as he felt a few drops of blood run down his chest. So she had cut him. Not that he cared.
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