Show me what you got

Ah, that sweet coppery bite of fresh blood on her teeth, the mark of a good fight at least for herself. A rumbling sound somewhere between a purr of satisfaction and a challenging growl thrummed through her chest. Fighting was a life-long love for the woman and even if deep down she'd prefer to steer clear of men, sparring with them was better than idle chatter so she couldn't complain too much. Least this guy was helping her kill her boredom and send it packing six feet deep.

Eyes remain narrowed and lips peeled back, chin tucked, ears flattened. Best to keep one's face protected at all times in a fight. She even spared a half-second to lick the crimson blood from her teeth before resettling her focus entirely on the fight at hand to avoid losing due to not paying attention. Her shoulder connected - not entirely as intended, but she could hardly complain about success - yet her paw stomp would land only on dirt as the man continued with the damned moving around nonsense. The paw coming at her face was admired for only the blink of an eye before she was leaning her head to the left, causing his leg to graze the right side of her face, his claws leaving mild lacerations that welled up and trickled blood here and there. Ouch.

She was, admittedly a little bit tired by now, but being the trained fighter she was Alis wasn't going to let herself be winded till she was good and done. She was only allowed to be tired when the fight was over and she stood victorious! With that thought, the monochromatic woman sets after the man again, this time trying new tactics as she feels his teeth bite into her right ankle and pull, moderate puncture wounds pressing into the limb. Mind whirring briefly, she decides to move her weight over her front legs, which she sifts back a bit to be centered better under her body, before lifting her left hind leg and doing a precarious balancing act as she fights for control of the captured limb by taking a page out of his own book and seeking to send a fierce kick back towards his face, hoping to his him between the eyes and get him to let go. If she was lucky she'd add a bruise to his growing list of aches and pains.

Simultaneously her jaws part again and aim to land a bite on the exposed flesh of his belly, on the right side of his abdomen where his ribs ended in hopes of carving some moderate lacerations to further convince his body letting go of her leg was a good idea. Much as she loved doing hand stands, she couldn't keep it up forever. Probably… Never tried.

As this happens her hackles remain raised, tail flags out and up, adjusting as needed to keep her balance as the toes of her front feet stay spread and claws dig in for much needed traction.

Pyralis vs. Mercury for practice
Round: 3/3
Height: 41"
Build: Heavy