Paws kissed the earth in a deadly symphony as the young woman made her way to the battlefield. She was so consumed in rage and sorrow she could barley see straight. She needed to fight, she needed to practice defended what was hers- her freedom. The ghost man was determined to have her, and if all else failed, she would have to fight on her own, and she would. She would fight until her last breath, she would fight until her last heartbeat. Her mother had gone down fighting, and so would she. She would protect what her mother had built for her, she would protect those she loved, and she would protect her home. Today, she merely needed practice, and those in Valhalla weren't the ones to use as a dummy. She needed a stranger, someone with no ill feelings toward her. One she reached the heart of the wasteland, she scanned the area around her. There wasn't anyone in sight, but surly someone would come along right? Wolves always came here for spars, didn't they? She sighed, inhaling the scents and exhaling them deeply. No one.

"speech"

hope you don't mind fighting a younin' x3 she isn't that young but her bite obv won't be as powerful as an adult's and her defenses will be lacking but she's almost a year.

Disproportionate paws perturbed the fallen autumn leaves that littered the weathered earth, earning audible crackles as the vegetation crippled beneath her mass to alert those who lurked ahead of her approach. With a favored destination in mind and certain ambitions implanted within the confines of an active mind, the adolescent miscreant sauntered with the unmistakable swagger of an eager combatant in the direction of the infamous arena whose floor was embellished with a daunting cloak of crimson and adorned with both the pride and shame of the victorious and the chagrined. The blood that coursed through the viper?s own veins was once to decorate the center of the coliseum, but the singular experience did not sate the true desire that plagued her to develop as a competent militant. And so, the phantom child was drawn to the battlefield like a moth to an open flame, assured that another would possess similar ambitions to herself and serve as a target to her pent-up anxiety and rage, willing to plunge their own weapons beneath the flesh that bound her underdeveloped musculature. Mismatched eyes would rove for silhouetted figures as the amphitheater came into view, pupils immediately dilating and pinpointing the singular obstacle in an otherwise vacant field, forcing her direction to shift so that she could maneuver closer towards it. The ample lighting provided by the silver moon would consume the features of the unknown canine, detailing the countenance and build of the female to make it possible for the wraith to examine her future opponent. A wicked gleam danced across mercury and amethyst eyes as the juvenile halted a few meters away from where the other stood rooted, own visage failing to depict any type of emotion whatsoever in favor of obvious apathy as she settled into her defenses. Mismatched eyes would narrow slightly and triangular ears would press flatly against her crown, entire body lowering closer to the earth as her limbs bent slightly at the knee to enable swift movement, skull descending to fall in alignment with her spinal column and tail remaining loose at her ankles to act as a counterweight if necessary. Still, she was inexperienced and her apex was unimpressive compared to the larger and more robust female, but the challenge she posed was evident. The faintest trace of a crooked grin flashed across her countenance as the babe tucked her chin, silently beckoning the wench to begin the dance. ARTEMIS vs LIBERTY for PRACTICE round number zero ? one ? two ? three