Swing your purse, Sally

Rolling his neck, Valentine prepared for yet another fight. This time his opponent was an all white male with blood smeared (intentionally?) into his fur. He just kept meeting weirder and weirder folk, but to each his own, right? Crusty blood funk aside, Valentine was looking forward to this spar. With each one he banged out he was getting closer and closer to his grand finale: the lion. If he was going to go out he may as well go out with a bang, right?

Head dropping so he could level a gaze at his opponent, he rumbled, "First move is yours." He was used to attacking first. May as well make this challenge thing a learning experience and learn to go second, right?