No rest for the wicked

Just as Absinth thought she was about to make purchase on the older man’s neck, she was pulled away with a sharp string at the back of her leg and immediately caught by teeth. The monochrome fae had been quite literally uprooted from her stance. Fucking hell. Her scruff was claimed, moments that all but screamed the obvious winner here, and she was released easily by the much larger man. Her brows furrowed above intense emerald orbs as she stumbled back and regained her balance. Lifting her leg to see the small damage done, Absinth craned her neck back to the sabertoothed male - her lips trembling as she fought to contain her expression. Bewilderment crossing her features as she watched him pull a cloth free, surprised by his offer to wrap her wound.

Hah? She stared quizzically at the brute, tilting her head to the side as she answered with scrutiny. “Yes?” This was… a first. She had never had an opponent offer to… remedy the inflicted damage upon her flesh. Absinth attempted to take it in stride, shooting Sirius with as best she could muster of an appreciative nod of her charcoal skull. She would settle back onto her haunches, taking a sitting position to make it easier for him; raising her injured limb slightly. “Any notes for me? I know I lack defense. I'm self taught for the most part.” The young woman stated, peering up at the Warlord as she contemplated all her moves and mistakes throughout the short exchange of blows.

wormwood