Almost There

The way the woman’s expression shifted as he introduced himself caused Charlie’s smile to waver. He didn’t know what caused her expression to flicker, but she did not react with hostility. She would claim that she, Medusa, would fight him and shake herself out as a form of preparation. His expression shifted, replaced by determination to do well in this spar. His claws dug into the earth, watching the skeletal marked woman. She was older, likely a seasoned fighter, but Charlie had no intention of giving her an easy fight. The lessons he had, the fights against the predators of the North, his spars with his father. This was important for him to do well. More to him than to anyone else. He’d see her face flicker into a grin and, without further warning, the woman came toward him.

Charlie would not allow her mannerisms to shake him. She came headlong, and Charlie expected her to come full on, slam into him, but no, in the last couple of seconds the yearling side stepped once, spinning toward the woman with his muzzle. She was pulling alongside him, her leg slamming into his foreleg and causing him to stumble. In an effort to save himself from tumbling Charlie would snap his fangs in the direction of the woman’s rump. Getting a hold would save his balance, well, in theory? He had to do something before it was compromised further! His hind legs would start side stepping, attempting to draw his rear further away from her, but not before he felt her teeth sliding across his ribs. Blood welled up from the injury, her teeth leaving cuts in their wake.

Silveris would dive closer to the wolves then, her sharp cries an attempt at distracting the woman as she made to support her companion. Yorrick was on the move as well, circling behind Charlie now as he moved to get on the same side as their opponent.


"Speech," 'Thought.'