when the floodwater comes it ain't gonna be clear

A boy showed up when she barked-- cool. Well, he wasn't really a boy... he was certainly a man, but he didn't look like Bas's dad, or Seer (sir), or Mortis even. Still, he was pretty tall, with teeth that showed out from his mouth. Shoot, had she bitten off more than she could chew? Nahhh, she'd be fine. Hazel was convinced that she'd be fine. If it was just a spar, then he couldn't hurt her. Well, he wasn't supposed to hurt her. And if he lived here in the Armada, Hazel was pretty confident that he wouldn't.

Though Hazel was short, she did her best to draw to her full height and square her posture. She nodded eagerly to his question, but took a moment to not look overly eager too. "Yes please." Hazel wasn't exactly nervous-- she'd taken on coyotes in spades during the spring. Still, this was different. "I um, I want to be able to beat Basilisk next time we spar." Why was she telling him this? He didn't care, probably. If she was lucky, though, he'd help her get better.

Unsure of the exact decorum, Hazel just sorta went for it. She pounced forward to the warrior, closing the gap between them with her gaze bright and attentive. Her intent was to land her teeth somewhere between his neck and shoulder, chomp and then get out. With her size slight in comparison to many of the wolves that lived here, Hazel worried that being grappled would spell doom. Moving targets would be harder to catch, so she'd do her best to keep moving.

"Speech"