face straight out a magazine

Cyanide definitely wasn't the only one feeling a little bit tumultuous these days. Today Veigar felt especially on edge; the journey to the Battlefield was proving more and more difficult these days with his fading sight. The journey was one he'd taken before though and he generally knew the way but that didn't account for the various ways the terrain tended to change over time. This spring was proving a rather muddy, wet one which made his trip even more difficult. More than once he'd nearly wiped out completely and by the time he showed up to looking for a sparring partner he was coated with mud, from halfway up his limbs to a spattering of muck laid across his chest.

The sound of someone looking to fight helped him orient himself. By the time he arrived, he was agitated and ready to leap right into things without thinking, but he knew being a good ambassador for Habari was important. Or whatever. He clenched his jaw, trying to focus on his potential opponent. She was female, about his size, her fur dark. Beyond that he had no idea what she looked like, but it didn't matter either. "Just looking for a friendly spar. Don't go overboard and I won't," he said, though it sounded more like a threat than anything else. "Show me what you've got." With that he hunkered down, prepared for whatever she might throw at him.