collect call

The woman before him has let him speak, and regards him with the readiness of a warrior. She does not relax, but nor is her posture that of hostility. He sees her lips curl into a toothy grin and she gives her name. Her name, much like that of his grandfather and Garm, has a foreignness to it. Just as she has given him silence and patience regarding his words, he listens to her now. He also watches the display of her axe, awe within his eyes, respect for the skill in which she holds it. The weapon is beautiful, and has she carries it is an art in and of itself. He gives a nod of understanding at her next words; Skull-Cleaver. “You handle your axe with grace and skill. I’ve no doubt you’ve earned that name.” Beside him Blind huffs, giving her wolf partner a look. Not a savage, huh? With a name like that?

The pack name, Heiðinn, is not familiar, but the man stores the name for later. He has little doubt Bylgja will fight well, and give him the sort of battle he needs. At this he gives a respectful nod, keeping his posture respectful. Here on the battlefield there are no ranks; only two warriors that, while they walk from different backgrounds, seek to fight and show their strength as one in the same. At her jest Beau’s lips curl up in a smile. “If he comes to test his mettle, he is welcome to spar with me. As are you, should you wish for a second round after today.” It is now that Beauregard shifts his body into the familiar battle ready stance that he has used all his life. His stance is widened, shoulders rolled forward, and his claws bite the blood stained soil. His tail lifts behind him and his head lowers to align with his spine. His ears lay back, his eyes narrow, and his hackles raise. Lips peel back in a battle ready grin and he tucks his chin down to guard his throat. She is shorter than he is, and leaving his throat exposed is a good way to lose this spar quickly.

He did not flinch away from the aspect of having blood drawn. He also knows better than to underestimate an opponent. The woman lunges forward, and Beauregard chooses to brace himself. He will let her come, get a feel for her power. His idea is not to avoid her attack, but rather to attempt a counter of it. Above him Trill, his bluejay, circles the skies as she calls down to him. She is his eyes from above, a way to warn him in case the woman has companions of her own waiting to jump into the fray.

But no such call comes. The femme rears up and as she does Beauregard pushes on the ground. Her forelegs wrap around his neck and by pushing forward the man seeks to off balance her before she has a chance to recover from her attack. Fangs find his cheek as Beauregard snarls and tilts his head up to snap at an ear. He is trying to use his larger size to overpower her. First blood might be hers, but Beauregard does not falter, does not shy away from the pain. No, he attempts to push through it and show Bylgja what he is truly made of.

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Beauregard vs Bylgja for Spar
Round 1/2
Age: Over 1 Year
Size: Extra large
Build: Medium
Offensive Battle Accessory: Curved blade
Defensive Battle Accessory: Leather arm wraps
Companion 1: BlueJay, Female - Perception
Companion 2: Arctic fox, Female - Battle
Skills: Expert Fighter & Expert Intellectual

"Speech" 'Thought.'