Lets Get Ready To Win

His call wasn’t left hanging. Before long a large female with a delicate looking frame waltzed into view, a smile on her face. He was put in mind of a rattler in the grass. She was smiling, but her eyes were intent, and not friendly. If it weren’t for that look in her eyes, she’d be pretty. She was based in white, but was covered in splotches of brown and sand tones, including a splotch over her left eye. Her eyes were heterochromatic, left being pale blue, right being pale green. Her frame was sleek, and while fragile in appearance, he wasn’t stupid enough to think that meant she wasn’t strong. That frame meant agility. His molten dual toned gaze swept over her form in a quick, calculating glance, before the drop of the hat came.

He launched himself forward even before she spoke, taking the go signal from her body language, seeking to close the ten feet of space between them at a head on angle. Head and tail flowed level with his spine as he went, tail acting as a rudder for balance. His hackles rose from the base of his skull to the top of his tail, while his shoulders rolled forward over the base of his neck, his chin tucked to protect his throat, and he rolled his neck back into his shoulders, scruff rolling into a barrier of protection. His ears flattened to his skull as his face morphed into a wrinkly, silent snarl, jaws parting slightly, teeth unsheathing and eyes narrowing to protective molten slits. His paws fell in a balanced cadence as his abdomen tensed, and his elbows bent slightly to facilitate a lower center of gravity. Toes spread far apart for added balance while his claws extended to grab into the ground for better traction.

At the last second before possible impact, he sought to veer subtly to his left, Roselin’s right, intending to drive the bony point of his right shoulder into the woman’s right lower pectoral, seeking to cause severe bruising to the muscle there, even at risk of bringing injury to himself. His jaws gaped wide as he tilted his head down and slightly to his right, seeking to lunge his jaws towards the soft flesh nestled behind Roselin’s right front elbow, wishing to sink his teeth into that point and rip his head away, hoping to come away with blood and flesh on his teeth, while simultaneously snapping his right foreleg up - weight redistributing to his other three legs - and seeking to slam the heel of his right paw down on the toes of Roselin’s right front paw, hoping to severely bruise or fracture the toes and give her something to think about. Not only that, but he hoped to drive a fraction of his weight into that stomp, wishing to dig the points of his claws harshly against the front of her lower ankle, where it became the paw, as an extra jot of pain on the list.

Fighting was an intimate dance. Meant to be close quarters, and meant to leave scars that had stories to tell. He could feel the drums pulsing in his ears; the excitement of adrenaline, but he kept his head on, and his mind clear.

Defenses:

Attacks:

Injuries:

Extra Notes: Here we go! Good luck! I'll need it.