Skirmish in the Sand

Sparrow was used to fighting opponents her own size and while the pup was somewhat easy to overpower, Sparrow also wasn't used to the flailing, scrambling movement all tangled up in her legs. Her booze was heavy in her blood, the fight itself not a threat enough to drive it away from her brain. As she pushed and as Scald kicked out, Sparrow felt her feet sliding in the sand. With her alcohol-lagged brain, the next thing she knew she was on the ground, staring up at the clear night sky. She wondered briefly if she had passed out and where Scald was, but didn't make any movements to right herself. With a slow and somewhat cautious stretch- good, nothing was broken- Sparrow spoke, "Guess you won." She had never been one in adulthood to feel shamed by losing. Obviously she liked winning as much as the next guy, but it was always up in the air. Today was Scald's day. "Got any more booze?"