The young Godling set out to the boneyard today. The air was cool with a light rain falling upon the earth, the droplets settling onto her fur. The ground beneath her feet was slick with mud. She wanted to test herself against someone, to see how her skills fared compared to others. She had never been here before, so the scenery fascinated her. She had seen old bones scattered across the ground here and there, most likely from wolves who had found their demise. She wasn't here for a fight to the death, however. Just a simple spar, unless of course, someone happened to push her buttons enough to warrant more than practice. Taking in a deep breath, she stopped and scanned the terrain. The young girl would then tilt her head back and howl, summoning someone to come join her. "Speech" <

War drums sounded through the crisp air as Hannibal made his way to the battlefield. Its the furthest north the male had ever been but a certain call caught his attention. One that promised excitement and thrills, just what the hellhound needed on such a dull day. A light rain fell from the sky and thankfully it was not nearly cold enough to turn into snow. Just enough to give him a little shiver every now and again. Clouds covered the sun allowed for him to venture forth without burns. Otherwise he would have remained inside his den for the length of the evening. Alabaster and obsidian fur twisted and twirled as wind blew against his form. Hannibal marched into the battle grounds with a devious grin. His unique eyes finally settled onto a muddied form in the distance. The rain died down to a gentle sprinkle but was enough to add a bit a flavor to what may come of this encounter. This was a place of bloodshed but today was without. They would likely spar which was a fight without significant harm. No teeth nor claw. Bruising and fatigue may come, but nothing to last. It would be good for the male to freshen up on his Wolf combat since had had only battled predators since being in Boreas. As the phantom sauntered in his eyes dared connect with her own, "Let us dance." His vocals were but a delightful purr as he got right down to business. Hannibal hunkered down his defenses to ready himself for the oncoming battle. Blue and pink eyes squinted due to the threat of rain, lips curled to protect thin cheeks and expose horrifying ivories, ears flattened to his skull, his muzzle pointed down to protect his throat from slashing and ripping, hackles raised, legs bent and squared evenly to distribute weight for added balance, tail aligned with his spine, toes spread to grip the muddy ground, and breathing steadied to focus on the femme's first move. That is if she were so bold to take it. 0/3 speech action

It seemed like she waited forever before someone finally showed. Pale gaze swept towards the direction of someone coming from where the land bridge lay, a place she had yet to step foot upon. She studied the male with an eerie calm, piercing blue gaze looking him over. She hadn't met anyone outside of the Empire, so when he uttered a single phrase, the fur on the back of her neck rose in agitation. Was...that a threat? Or just something that mortals said? She didn't quite understand, didn't know how to interact with outsiders. The Abraxas and the few mortals that lived with them were all she knew. But she knew there was a difference between her and those that resided outside of the empire. She was a Godling. And this man was a mortal. From what she knew, they were less than the Abraxas. Less than her. She was superior. At least, that's what she was told growing up. She wasn't entirely sure what the etiquette was when confronting an opponent. Or if there even was one...so she dipped her head to the male, deciding to wait till after the spar to offer a name. Inexperienced as she was, she was here to test herself and gauge her own skills. To see what she needed to do in order to improve. With that thought in mind, she settled into a widened stance. Her tail flagged out behind her, ears pinning to her head and eyes narrowed in on the stranger. Her hackles were raised, teeth baring as she tried to figure out how to approach. She decided that she would go head on. As quickly as she could, she charged the man head on with the intent of closing the distance and trying to thrust her right shoulder into the left portion of his chest just near his shoulder. Her head tilted to her left towards his as she aimed a quick bite at the left side of his neck. Since she was here for practice, she wasn't trying too hard to draw blood, but rather some quick nips and the like. She was unsure, however, so she would end up holding back more than she wanted. Proserpina VS Hannibal for unjudged practice spar Round: 1/3 Height: 39" Build: Medium "Speech" <

The hellhound believed in no God. He had no need for such a thing in his life. Why would one need a God when you could be one yourself? Hannibal liked to think he was the greatest thing since sliced bread and made his own luck. He worked to get what he wanted, but only minimally so. Though, he was aware many thought there was some clan of Gods up in the sky smiling down upon them. That was their own choice and why should he care unless they preach to him? In the short moments in which the pale Wolfess closed the distance between their two large bodies Hannibal ensured he was ready. His head was tucked downward, ears flat, eyes narrowed, lips curled, legs bent and balanced, tail aligned, hackles raised, toes splayed, breathing steady, and he was completely and utterly focused. Suddenly the babe crashed into his sturdy form, she being only slightly taller then himself called for a rather even match. Her right shoulder slammed into the left portion of his chest near his shoulder, which he could already feel pinging with pain. That would be a bit of a bruise later. Though, he did not dwell for she almost instantly went for a bite at his left side of neck. It landed, in theory, she managed to scrap her front teeth against skin but there was no wound. Which came with the nature of the spar. Hannibal was now ready for his own assault as she was focused on his left. The phantom would attempt to press the center his chest into her own, applying enough pressure to potentially push her back and inch or two if allowed. Or slip in the mud, he would take anything. This would hopefully distract her as he quickly lifted his muddy front right paw in attempt to swipe at her front left ankle. It would be a quick whack if he was not stopped first, hopefully to cause her footing to falter or even cause a bit of bruising by the hit. Proserpina VS Hannibal for unjudged practice spar Round: 1/3 Height: 36" Build: Medium speech action

She had succeeded in hitting him with her right shoulder, a bruise sure to blossom there later. She gasped slightly at the surprise of it. She hadn't been in a fight before now, and though she should have expected pain from it, she had been unprepared. Her teeth scraped his skin but not enough to draw blood. Drawing blood from him wasn't exactly on her list of things to do considering she was here for a practice spar, but if he ended up drawing blood from her then she would more than likely consider doing the same. Still, for now, she would press on and try her best. Maybe she'd be able to learn something from the albino man.

Eventually, she ended up distracting herself. Overthinking on what to do next. Her heart pounded frantically in her chest as she went through everything she could possibly try. So much so that she almost didn't notice when he started trying to push her back, but by the time she did notice, it was too late. Her hind legs straightened out as she tried to fight from being pushed back, her eyes squeezing shut out of habit from straining. Before she knew it, she felt one of her forepaws being whacked at, and that was all that was needed to send her to the ground. She had overextended her hind legs which caused her grip on the muddy ground to falter. She went down onto her right side, panic setting in.

Instinctively her tail flew up to protect her belly, her ears pinned against her head. Her fur bristled up, clumped by mud as her heart pounded against her chest. With her on the ground, this wasn't going to be so easy. She had made a mistake, and she knew that if this had been a more serious fight, she knew this could have ended really badly. So she did what she could, and with that she attempted to pull his own right foreleg out from under him with her own left forepaw. Simultaneously she aimed to bite at his lower chest, a vain attempt at maybe pinching the skin between her teeth enough to make him move so she could hopefully get some leeway to get back on her feet.

Proserpina vs Hannibal for Practice Spar
Round 2/3
Height: 38"
Build: Medium

And the winner is...

Proserpina

Due to HANNIBAL not posting in the allotted time the fight has been defaulted in PROSERPINA's favor. HANNIBAL loses the match and must now submit, pass out, or run away.