The last time she had been here, she had followed the sound of a challenge sent to her father. She had witnessed him maim a slave who had failed hos attempt to challenge for his freedom. She had seen Rhythm turn her back on Valentine and help the slave limp off into the distance. She had seen her father's fury over the betrayal. She had helped patch up his wounds after. This was her first time here alone. But she was a yearling now, and carried herself with regal grace across the torn ground. Her tall body, though gangly yet as her mass had yet to catch up to her height, moved with utter dignity and confidence. She wanted to be a healer, finding a certain fascination in diagnosing and working through the puzzle of treating wounds and ailments, but equally as much she wanted to fight , as her mother did, as her father did. She would be a healer, but she would not be a weak, slackjawed idiot who couldnt do anything else. She would learn what Rhythm had to teach her about healing, but her... mentor coild teach her nothing about fighting. So, she would learn by herself , by doing. Seating herself daintily, tucking her tail over her paws, she lifted her sharp boned head to tilt skyward and send out an imperious demand for an opponent. ""

Back here again. Of course, he didn’t realize that he was here again – or that here was anywhere, for that matter. He had little sense of geography, and little recognition for landmarks or landscapes. He just didn’t care for it. He moved and migrated wherever with few thoughts or plans; never being a part of anything meant that there was no reason to stay somewhere for very long… Perhaps having no home was a melancholy thing, but he evaded the feeling with a right scarcity of thought entirely.

The scraggly creature scampered and skipped, flitting through tall grass and marveling at the lovely red stains! They were everywhere! He knew it was blood, and slavered at the thought. A few times he tried to lick at the barren patches in the ground where he could see the aged dark brown spots, but each time he recoiled dejectedly with no more than dirt on his tongue. ”Bleeeaahhhh,” a strangled and rotten syllable wrenched from his throat as he hung his jaw, his tongue rolling out, peppered with dirt. Dirt did not taste good. Not like oozing, oily blood. He snapped his jaw shut and went glassy-eyed for a moment, picturing red cascades pouring free from his mouth. His own, or someone else’s? That was a good question, he thought, rolling his tongue inside his mouth to idly scrape off (and inevitably eat down) the dirt he had seemed bothered by seconds ago. It didn’t really have an answer though!

Moments after a foul sounding snicker grated in the imp’s throat, a sound snapped him to attention. His right ear pricked tall, and his tattered left made an admirable attempt. His pupils shrank to pinpricks, and his tail lifted slightly as his angular body went rigid. Someone was calling! Someone wanted something, and he decided that he wanted something too. It had been a while since he had seen other wolves – played with other wolves! His body electrified with excitement and lurched forward with sharp motion, sending him tearing off in the direction of the noise.

He arrived looking even more of a mess than usual, which was only barely possible – a feat achieved by the frantic pace that had tousled his already disheveled and dirty fur a bit more. He skidded to a halt some yards before the supposed caller and leaned back a bit, his wide eyes and slackened, grinning jaws giving him a look of perfect… stupidity. He witnessed the stranger with growing excitement. ”Aaaah-ahhh!” he crooned in a childishly high tone. He shut his mouth, biting his lower lip gently and flicking his tail back and forth in a friendly manner. ”How big!” he exclaimed. This wolf was, as usual, larger than he was. He was used to it. The other seemed pretty young too, which was kind of icky. Although, if they were going to fight, he'd get to bite it lots anyways, which was nice. He licked his lips deviously and tilted his head to the side. ”It wants to plaaaay?” he questioned. Just to be sure.

And just in case (and partially in suspenseful anticipation), he would already begin to take up a defensive stance. He lowered his head and tucked his chin, folded his ears and narrowed his pale eyes. His legs were spread evenly and his knees bent a tad, his tail out for balance and his focus on the other wolf steady.

Evangeline waited with growing impatience for someone to appear to fight with her but the lands were strangely empty. Was there some sort of holiday she didn't know about where no one fought or something? She glowered out at the empty lands. But suddenly the lands weren't completely empty. Vana recoiled from the nasty little beast that cooed at her, asking if "it" wanted to play. "Ew, you have got to be kidding me," she snarled in a disgusted little screech. Ugh but he'd been the only one to show up when she called... but she was absolutely certain he was carrying some awful diseases on his festering form. Did he have fleas? But the biggest question is... Would her daddy fight him? An explosive sigh huffed from between her teeth. He probably would. He'd fought that Sin guy who had blood all over him, and he'd fought Hati when he was all full of infection. If Daddy wasn't too squeamish to do it, and she was supposed to be a healer and healers couldn't be squeamish, then she'd have to force down the urge to retch and fight this weird thing. "Yes, she does," she finally snapped, then gave a shudder of disgust. She set her basic defenses as her father had taught her to do a long time ago, then hesitated. Ew, she didn't think she could bring herself to bite into... that thing first. "You go first. Because... because you're the guest," she told him, grasping at the first excuse that came to her mind. EVANGELINE vs CESAR for SPAR Round 0/? (you can pick, Arcy)

Upon seeing the gremlin and no other prospective opponents, the younger wolf exclaimed in disgust. The blue-eyed wolf had no particular reaction, other than his sustained, atrocious grin. Perhaps he had simply not processed the insult that should’ve pricked his feelings, or perhaps he had chosen to ignore it. He cocked his head to the side, his ghastly stare tracing the figure of the other in brief assessment while she assumedly did the same. Or maybe she was deciding whether or not to purge herself of such despicable company.

When she accepted, her voice was harsh. The fiend couldn’t tell if she was just irritable, or if she was somewhat unwilling. He licked his lips and shifted his weight a bit, his blood tingling with eagerness. Then though, his opponent would insist that he go first. His grin broadened slightly with a twitching motion. ”So po-lite!” he squealed with pleasure, sold on her reasoning. He had begun to feel like most of the wolves he had met were rather mean and rude (really, it had just been the one, but she had been big and mean enough for all future associations).

Inhaling through his teeth in a manner that sucked upon and vibrated the saliva in his mouth, he would lower his head once more, align it with his spine. He faced her straight on, and wondered what he’d do. Defenses remained upheld – his shredded ears folded and his eyes narrowed. His chin was tucked down to protect his throat and his legs were spread evenly and bent for balance. His shoulders were rolled forward and his tail was held somewhat low, but still out behind him so as to aid in balance and movement. Toes and claws tensed downward for a sure grip on the dusty earth.

There was a brief moment that he waited, tension tied up in his chest like a knotted muscle, ready for release. Then he charged forward with a hoot of laughter, his head lifting as if he planned to go for her face. He would try to stop with the distance between them closed and attempt a slight feint to his upper right – towards her left cheek/lower jaw area before dropping low to try and actually clamp his jaws fiercely upon her left forefoot, just under the ankle where the more fragile bones would be. His own left forefoot would lift slightly before attempting to slam claws upon her right forefoot. He hoped that if he could assault both feet, he could pose a threat to her balance. Being so significantly shorter than his opponent, he had decided to deal with it best he could and target her lower, more reachable areas. He himself also felt safer closer to the ground, reducing the accessibility of his belly and throat and lowering his center of gravity for a more sturdy balance.

Cesar vs. Evangeline for Spar
Move 1/3

A disgusted squeal, disbelieve and horror warring in her expression as she watched the icky little gremlin gargling with his own spit as he threw up defenses. Ew ew ewwwww. But it was easy enough to slip into the defenses her daddy had taught her and her brothers since they were little. Her long legs spread to hip- and shoulder-width apart while she carefully centered her balance to evenly distribute it to all four limbs. Her joints bents slightly for free movement, her toes spreading as her dull claws dug into the dirt. She shuddered, but her head lowered as her tail raised to bring them both to the level of her spine in a straight, balanced line. Her shoulders hunched forward to bunch up the scruff of her neck, her chin tilting down slightly to protect her throat, because what an embarrassing way to die, with your throat slit by a flea-bitten mongrel. Hackles were already raised and her ears were laid back in disgust, but her eyes narrowed from their horrified expression to one more suited to protect the delicate golden orbs. Then the mangy beast had launched himself forward with a maniacal laugh and Evangeline gave a shriek in return that was nowhere near laughter. As he feinted for her jaw she threw her weight back onto her hindquarters, nearly sitting in the effort to keep her face away from his nasty scummy mouth, but he had instead dived for her paws. She lifted her left forepaw with a screech before his jaws could close on it and attempted to smack it soundly against his right eye. It wasn't a well-thought-out response, but if she was lucky he'd get dirt or a claw in his eye, and she hoped it hurt. Especially since the midget's other paw slammed down on her right forepaw, bruising her poor toes before she could jerk it entirely out from under his paw - the bruising itself was minor but... it was Vana. With a furious snarl she sought to throw her weight back forward - hindclaws digging into the dirt as her hindlegs uncoiled - in an attempt to squash him flat. The bottom front of the center of her chest aimed to smash into the back of his neck halfway between his skull and shoulders, her poor injured right forepaw seeking to hook around his left forepaw - the one that had hurt her - in an attempt to jerk the jerk's leg out from under him. Her parted jaws aimed a cruel bite for his spine right behind his shoulders with the intention of acquiring a grip that would damage nerves, her upper canines aimed left of his spine while her lower jaw attempted to hook on the right of his spine. EVANGELINE vs CESAR for EWWWW (I mean, for spar) Round 1/3

She leaned back far from his feint, yet still managed to react quickly enough despite the setback to move her left forefoot away from his mouth. The paw went for his face, and he had just enough time to squint his right eye shut before she smacked it. ”Ow!” he yapped indignantly, his head being thrust back some and the area around his eye socket aching. He’d have a bit of bruising later, but it wasn’t like she’d busted his eye completely or anything. He had shifted his weight to accommodate for being smacked in the face, quickly regaining balance and trying to remain precisely where he was. His left forepaw paw, lucky enough, had connected with her right foot as intended, and he would give one last attempt at twisting his foot and crushing delicate toes.
 
His opponent lurched forward with a snarl and, with all the quickness and gracelessness of a scared rabbit, he himself lurched to his right. The girl’s right foreclaws clipped the front his left ankle but gained no purchase and injured him no more than the momentary pain the swipe inflicted. However, no amount of speed or swiftness could transcend such close proximities, and he soon found himself on his stomach on the ground with a grunt. His frantic skitter to the side had managed to prevent him from being pinned though – her chest had caught him on his left side just around and above his shoulder, and had knocked him down with her descent. The air was forced from his lungs, pain blossoming in his chest as he was momentarily disoriented. His fall to the ground was short though, and so he had sustained no contusions. Her fangs bit into his skin on his ribs behind his left shoulder, leaving moderate punctures. In an instant he was scrambling back up again, hoping that she too had gone all the way down, having not so precisely hit her target. He bared his teeth and lunged forward, attempting to jam his bony left shoulder into the left side of her chest (hoping mostly to cause pain and jostle her) while he would attempt to violently clamp his teeth down upon the soft crook of her left elbow, hoping for an unrelenting grip. His right forepaw would attempt to smash claws upon her left forefoot now. His overall aim was to, over the course of this little battle, sufficiently damage both front legs so as to hinder her movement. No escape! And no more smacking him in the face. That hurt.

Defenses remained intact, his mangled ears folded, his eyes narrowed, and his hackles lifted. His shoulders were squared and rolled forward to scrunch his neck, his legs evenly spread and bent for balance. His tail was flung out behind him, hanging slightly so as to protect himself and aid in balancing. His chin was tucked down and head lowered, and with his shorter height and low attack, his throat was rather inaccessible.

Cesar vs. Evangeline for Spar
Move 2/3