Battle of Wills [Open Spar]

It'd been almost a solid month since he'd heard the challenging call of his father out on the battlefield, but he found himself at it's borders once again. The smell of old blood was still something he was getting used to; naturally, it sent an eerie shiver up his spine that made him stop to shake the fluff of his pelt. It wasn't so bad, he took the opportunity to limber himself up as he continued his trot into the field.

It wasn't long before another challenging howl rang clear in the air. This one, however, seemed less menacing. A spar? He couldn't walk away from the opportunity. He'd never fought with anyone outside the wolves of once was Ivalice and his brothers, so some training with a stranger was ideal for it's unpredictability. The fat yearling slowed to a stop as he came into view of the woman, halting about eight feet away from her while his gut swayed beneath his belly. Once settled, he offered her the pleasantries of a bow. "Good morning. Any rules you want to establish first?"

He patiently waited for her to answer as he began to square his stance, paying close attention to his posture. It'd been awhile, so he hoped he could recall everything Avalon had taught him all those months ago.