Are we alive?

It had been a long time since she had gone to the battleground last, or found a reason to enter herself into a spar. She knew that she was likely to be out of practice by now, but she still felt strong, strong from her work in hunting and protecting her pack, clearing out the rubble left over from the terrible storm and all the other things that had kept her back from her favourite thing in the world. Now she had no more excuses, no more reason to delay this and she stepped into the battlefield with relish. Her sway into her place was made with soft swings of her hips and lightly placed paw-steps. She was already slipping into the zone of the player, how she felt when she tested herself and fought against another. A slow smile was teasing itself against her muzzle, soft and daunting, something that gave the promise of trouble and mischief, in the best way possible of course.



Her slow stride would take her to her chosen place, before she evened out her paws and glanced across the desolate plane, before raising her head in a dainty move, lifting her muzzle into the soft wind and howling out for a challenger, for someone to meet her here in this chosen place of warriors and test their skills against her beneath the ripe, full moon.