Honing The Weapons

*Obsidian* · 09-29-2013, 12:26 PM

Obsidian

Pawsteps approached, a wet stone-gray form marked like a sabino coming into view. Caerul! Obsidian gave her head a bob of greeting at the male who was eldest son to Cormalin, as he came to a stop before her, greeting her. As he enquired as to her reason for walking the field, she tossed her head. ?War is coming, and I will not be standing aside like a halter filly while my pack is at war. I have strengths wolves don?t. Can a wolf kick an opponent in the head and kill with that blow? You father is the only wolf I have sparred with, and he and I know each other?s moves and tendencies to a fault. I need more experience, to learn how to read strangers. So? I came here to spar. I will warn you now, if that?s what you?re here for as well, that I can?t always hold back the strength of my kicks; your father has received quite the number of bruises, I?m afraid.? Chiseled head ducked in embarrassment at the admission. She needed to learn how to better hold in her strength in a spar. She was improving, but still needed work.

But she wouldn?t be holding that power back once she was on the field in true battle. Thus far, she doubted the northern pack knew of Valhalla?s equine member. She would take them by surprise as she had the grey male that had attacked Rayne, the new secondary Theta. Her blood pounded through her veins. As a breed, Friesians weren?t the hottest blood of horses, but her mother had been a Morab, and had possessed a fiery spirit, and high amount of energy, and that had passed to Obsidian herself. Though, she?d heard her sire has possessed a bit of fire as well. She was a war horse. Deep blue pools settled on her pack brother. ?Do you want to spar??

Login
Username:
Password:	Lost Password?
	Remember me