Motiv8

The fight was brutal, but quick.

Panting, Aristaios turned to see her crumple to the ground out of the way to avoid being crushed, a bloody smile gracing her lips as she spoke. ‘Bears are cunty,’ The small woman spat, bright red staining the snow beside her. Well, that was a new one. He appreciated the originality.

He moved to her side as she attempted to stand, watching her tilt and sway with a grin. Did she need help? He was more than capable, and not in the market for blatant acts of evil on weakened, tiny women. “Easy there,” He rumbled with a drawn out tone, his voice surprisingly gentle through the thick greek accent he possessed. Maybe she’d find comfort in that. “You took a hell of a hit.” You know. For her size. His dual colored orbs scanned over her narrow body, taking in her visible injuries – sure. But he’s no healer, just a man.

When she planted her rear firmly on the ground, he could see the effort it took for her to catch her breath, her body trembling from the fight. They had done alright together, more than alright. The bear lay disarmed, and they were both alive. So, good.

Aristaios nodded at her words of thanks, chuffing as he moved to see what state the hide was in once she was steady looking. It was salvageable, save for the nape and face they’d utterly ruined. “You fight like a damn wolverine.” The massive brute’s tail flicked as he spoke over his shoulder, humorously rolling the tension out of his shoulders. Then, his attention was stolen by her talking again.

“I was going to kill it anyway, so no need for thanks. But – You need a minute? Rest for a spell. Don't want you passing out on me. Besides – I hate to have debts.” There was a hint of a smile on his maw, a blend of amusement and returned appreciation for a well done hunt. He took a brief scan of their surroundings, wondering if there was a place to rest, maybe start a fire, eat some bear while he collects items off its body.

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