Hone The Blade, Make It Sing

It was time for another test of her skills on the field of battle. They needed to be sharpened regularly. She had trounced Liar in her last spar here. Would she still come out on top against someone else? She had left Regulus in charge of the family and those who were staying with them, and Battlesong coasted on the cool autumnal thermals above, keen eyes sweeping the rolling field below for likely opponents or danger. As she padded along, Surreal kept her base defences in place; hackles up, head and tail level with her spine, ears at work, keeping alert for any calls to spar, until she found a spot that appealed to her; flat and wide, with good traction. The ground was already hard from cold nights and meager heat during the days.

Her jaws parted as she set her paws in a squared stance, and her head lifted as she called out to the field and any who might be on it, inviting them to dance. Battlesong wheeled above, on the alert for approach, before she gave a cry that announced the arrival of an as yet unseen by Surreal opponent. Surreal nodded minutely toward the hawk, knowing her keen eyes would catch the acknowledgement, before her eyes rested on the horizon, waiting for the one who had come to play. Her toes splayed, claws stroking the cold earth under her paws. She was ready for the blood pumping adrenaline rush that was a part of fighting.

Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think