You make me take off my shoes before you let me get in

The cryptborn hears the call, hears the warriors begin to pick up. Her heart pounding in her chest... well, it's a good a time as any to prove herself. Henbane races down the side of the mountain, among the last to join the throng. No time left to waste, though the formidable creature is already a bit out of breath by the time she's down the mountain. Not built for speed, but that can't matter much.

It won't matter as she rushes her opponent, tusks first. It's messy, reckless-- she's excitable, and that's already coming into play. There's no real aim, only striking in the direction of the stranger's forequarters. Well matched in height, but she's got the weight advantage. A battering ram of a girl, Hen can really enjoy herself here. Head tossing, throwing her shoulders forward as she lunges, a low growl echoing from somewhere deep in her throat. The fights are friendly, allegedly, but Henbane doesn't know the meaning of the word. Oops, all teef!

"Speech"