Small But Mighty

Unfortunately, the poor girl was about to find out exactly what kind of man her opponent was.

She took a deep breath to try and calm the nerves whizzing like a swarm of bees in her stomach. Her opponent began locking his defenses in place, so she took the time to do the same. Solveiga tried to recall all of the things Regulus had taught her, as well as trust her instincts to tell her to best protect herself from everything that was about to come. She started at her feet, spreading them equally with her front legs placed a little wider than the width of her shoulders and her back legs placed a little wider than the width of her hips. She took a moment to test her weight and make sure it was evenly distributed. Then she spread her toes for stability and dug her claws into the earth for a little extra balance. She unlocked her knees, lowering her center of gravity and engaging the muscles in her abdomen, knowing that she was going to need all the balance and stability she could get, especially with an opponent so much larger than herself.

Then, in the final seconds she had, Solveiga lifted her tail and her head so that both were aligned with her spine, tucked her chin to protect her throat, pinned her ears flat and narrowed her eyes to protect them. Her face went into a snarl, wrinkling the flesh above her nose and around her eyes to make it harder for teeth to find purchase. And then, the fight began. The man launched himself into a run, barreling himself at her with astounding speed. Solveiga braced herself for the impact as well as she could, keeping her knees loose but still keeping herself strong and steady.

But in the end, it felt as though no amount of preparation could have prepared her for the sheer force that came pounding into her. The man crashed into her, slamming his chest into hers and jutting his left shoulder forward to bash into her right shoulder, causing severe bruising in both areas. Solveiga was forced backward nearly two feet from the impact, her previous stance coming apart as she staggered and regained her balance. The small woman gasped for a moment, trying to retrieve the air that had been snatched right out of her lungs. But she didn't have much time to recover, because the brute was making his next move. His right forepaw came down in an attempt to hold his victim in place, but Solveiga had been knocked farther back than perhaps either of them had expected, and so his paw only caught the empty patch of dirt where Solveiga used to be.

But still, the brute was not done. He swung his head to the left, teeth exposed and gleaming, and Solveiga reflexively closed her left eye and grimaced, bunching up the flesh of her face to protect it as much as she possibly could. She tried to quickly turn her head to the right, away from those sharp teeth, but they still managed to cut into the lower half of her left cheek. She didn't know how bad the cuts were yet, but they were definitely deep enough to draw blood, and maybe leave a couple of nasty battle scars. Later, when she could assess her injuries, she would find that the two cuts to her cheek were moderate. But the fight wasn't over yet. Her opponent may be playing dirty, but that didn't mean Solveiga planned on rolling over and submitting to him.

The previous events in the fight had left the two wolves quite close to each other. Their chests were now about six inches apart, and this proximity left Solveiga with one advantage: her small stature. Being so much shorter than her opponent meant that Solveiga had a relatively clear shot at his throat. However, she had an idea that might make his throat an even clearer target. Trying hard to ignore the pain in her chest and the blood trickling down her face, Solveiga lowered her body further and engaged the muscles in her legs, taking a single second to gather her energy and coil herself like a spring. Then, Solveiga shoved herself upward with everything she had, her forelegs leaving the ground while her hind legs stayed firmly planted to help her keep at least some of her stability. Keeping her eyes narrowed and her ears pinned, she bashed the top part of her skull into her opponent. Her goal was to slam her head into his lower jaw, crashing his teeth together and hopefully forcing his head further away from his throat, leaving him vulnerable.

As soon as her front paws hit the ground again, she coiled her muscles once more and launched herself forward. There was no time to waste. She lunged forward and her jaws parted, lips curling to expose her teeth as she tried to bite down and sink her teeth into something, anything really. If her previous attack was successful in leaving his throat vulnerable, then she would aim for his throat. Specifically, she would aim her jaws a few inches below the junction of his jaw and throat, so that her bottom row of teeth could sink in just to the left of his jugular while her top row of teeth could find purchase three or four inches further to the left. But she wouldn't bite hard enough to wound him fatally, of course. This was supposed to be a spar, after all, and she would play by the rules even if her opponent chose not to.