Runnin' with a rough and tumble crowd!

[Jantus]

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┤I might cut down on the nerve pinch angle since the sources I've seen say you need power to make a chop do much of anything, but getting chopped in the neck is still debilitating...if you're offended by the alteration, I can absolutely modify it. Question: you make one or two references to Ty using a left hand to attack/block/what have you Mala's left hand/side, is that to say he's going across her, or that his left side is interacting with her right side (that is to say, the one across from his own, like in a mirror)? PS: I assume he gets off of her once she indicates that it's over.├ Mala was a proficient striker with her hands and legs, and even more dangerous when she felt she could use her claws. One of the core reasons she liked to keep things standing and at striking range with her opponents was because they usually weren't as good at it as her: she not only kept the pressure on, she kept her head enough to keep aiming her attacks, and by the time it was over (in what serious fights she'd experienced) her enemies had so many lacerations they couldn't always successfully retreat, though her older brother wouldn't always command their death, depending on the severity of the situation. For now, however, this younger wolf was trying one of his tricks again, and her anger was just beginning to grow and she had cocked back her fist when a fast chop--coming from the hip so as to generate power--took her at the neck. Her shoulder jerked upward spasmodically, sheltering the impacted area...her whole body seemed to cringe. The throw he used to take her down was excellently technical, and though he locked her arm with only one-hand, the fact that it was there to lock her arm, not break it, meant she couldn't criticize him for it. She looked up at him in bewilderment--this was far beyond the level of what she'd thought he could do--but when he applied that slight bit of pressure to her neck, her eyes flashed with an indignant anger that she had not shown up to this point. What? WHAT? Mala disliked losing, but it wasn't the end of the world: Aivyr beat her every time they sparred, her brother lost sometimes, but she knew that was because he had chosen to. Samson could best her too, nine times out of ten. But to think that this kid might walk away thinking this was how it would have really ended lit a fire that, for a moment, she could not control. Her lips pulled back dangerously, baring her teeth. Before she said anything she might regret, her taut grimace slackened, and waived a hand at him gesturing that he should get off. Her expression had changed from ire and fire to lazy and relaxed...she would play it off like it wasn't anything. After all, what better way to let him know how things were than to let him know it hadn't been any big thing? "Yeah yeah, you got me. Don't get too cocky, though. In a real fight I'd have opened you a dozen times and more before now. Don't think you'll have such luck waiting that long in a real fight." All of a sudden, she found that she wanted him to come back soon. Or to have a rematch now. It would be very hard to justify losing to a Souls wolf without avenging herself totally. "Well hey, there you go, kiddo! Glad you figured out not to stand with her all day." Jantus gave a mirthful laugh while Aivyr and Nikolov exchanged sidelong glances. This wouldn't be the end of it with Mala, they knew. "What say we break for a while, get a drink, clean up. We can train a bit more later in the day, and maybe spar a couple of days from now, when you aren't so beat up!" Mala's mood was outwardly impassive. She wouldn't forgive this until such time as she had evened and probably doubled the score. It wasn't that she couldn't lose...but losing to Ty? Not even two years old and from the place where coyotes won the fights and called the shots? That was not acceptable.

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