Wheeling Gull Isle there's no pride in sharing scars to prove it

AW! looking for a friendly spar!! 
@Ixchel 

fake it- bastille

Maera woke with an itch. 
Not one she could reach with her back leg, or that she (or Axolotl given he was up for it) could nibble at. It was an itch that lied not on the surface but on the inside of her body, above her belly but under her ribcage. And itch so strong that within minutes of having woken her up, it got her on her feet, and after a quick shake sent her running through the foliage that made the inner part of the isle more covered and protected than the sandy outskirts.

Though she had no place in mind really, she zig zagged and bolted through the land as if she knew where she was going.
As if she knew what she wanted. 

More than anything, Ixchel was a creature of habit, and she had come to take on the unpredictable habits of the sea. She did not worship the water as her brother, but she loved it all the same, and enjoyed the rare moments that she could embody it -- moments like now. She was relaxing in the shade when a great crashing through the undergrowth had her on her feet in an instant. The islander watched a young she-wolf tear through the tropicwood like an unbidden fire, and Ixcel was roused by her speed and vibrancy.

Taking on the reckless grace of pursuing wave, the Corten bounded playfully after the other girl -- a lively cry on her lips as she beckoned to join in on her game.

Without bothering to look back, or to slow down, Maera continued her reckless rampage. She picked up her pace, she jumped around, she moved erratically and with her mouth parting slightly, just enough to let her tongue slide out and hang loosely,  she kept running and running until a call behind her made her skid to a halt. She turned around to find something unexpected - the beautiful she wolf that had captivated her at Komodo's summoned meeting.
Ixchel.
Ixchel Corten.

Maera hadn't yet figured what the relation between Ixchel and Axolotl was, she had forgotten to ask him when they had met after the improptu gathering (she didn't even know what the relation between Axolotl and herself was!). But she guessed she would soon find out. With her tail waving behind her, playfully and invitingly, Maera dropped into a very generic 'play' pose, her front legs bent and her bottom high. She gave a yip, an acceptance to her non-verbal request to join in, and after giving her tail a couple of more wags she took off again, her legs stretching as she broke into a full blown gallop. Maera could only hope the curiosity she felt towards the Corten was reciprocated - that's why she did not break the silence just yet, figuring that if she wanted (like her) to speak, she would keep up.

She was all fire and stone, and earth and wonder, and Ixchel wanted nothing more than to know her deeply. If she had known of the affection her brother felt for this girl-from-the-mountains, she would have understood the connection immediately. The Cortens were wolves of the sea -- forever malleable and shifting -- so it made sense under the guise of "opposites attract" that they would find love in the most immovable of places. For while you could never swim twice in the same waters, the paths of peaks were truly knowable, and immortal.

Ixchel could chase the long-legged warrior forever; her own stocky build churning as she gave wild chase to the fleeing woman. A throaty laugh took away her breath, eyes dancing as she tracked her quarry through the trees, and surged after her like a diamond-tipped spear. What Ixchel lacked in stride, she made up for in reflex, making a mad dash to cut a different path and cut off Maera's unpredictable line of travel.

Only once did Maera dare to look over her shoulder to see if in fact the other female was in persuit. She didn't really need to turn back to confirm the other's presence for she could feel inside her chest the thrill that only appears when one is being chased. However, as soon as she saw Ixchel running behind her, the fiery Sveijarn could not help but let out a high-pitched yip, a vocal expression of the raw excitement that had taken ahold of her.

She felt young again, younger, and back in a place that though she couldn't or wouldn't let herself recall but knew that she had been happy - almost as gloriously happy as she was now, zig zagging and speeding through the foliage with Ixchel in tow. Another joyful sound escaped the Sveijarn's lips before she began to feel her lungs begin to plead for her to stop so she could catch her breath once more. Truth be told, Maera would have too would loved to be chased forever, however forever was a pretty damn long time and a girl needs to nap sometime so.  

As suddenly as the chase had begun, it seemed to come to an end as Maera skidded into a halt with an impressive skrrrrrrrt. Then, not wanting to waste the momentum she spun around and re-positioned herself in the playful bow she had adopted earlier, her tongue hanging from her parted mouth as she panted. This time however she would not take off as Ixchel approached, she was done running.
For now.

"hey" she barked in greeting, her tail waving invitingly, "do i get to chase you now?" she barked next, half hoping Ixchel would say no because damn they had just ran a lot, but hoping she wouldn't see through the flame's non verbal interest and invitation to keep the interaction going. 

Ixchel could not remember the last time she had felt so free -- had such fun. And she never recalled chasing fire through the woods; a task she would certainly take up again, if given the chance. Her love for Maera was as swift as her brother's, if not forged of a different kiln, and the Corten she-wolf was eager to prove herself worthy of the attention. She could not best her in the race though; the mountain wolf's stride was too long, too swift, for Ixchel to catch her even at full tilt. She was glad when Maera let up on the game, and turned to her instead with another play-bow. The islander pulled up, her tongue lolling from exertion, but she was not done just yet.

"Do I get to chase you now?" Ixchel grinned wildly at the question, and she dipped into a bow herself. I think not, she purred breathlessly. Chase was not a game she could win with the woman; the battler's talents lie elsewhere. You've got me on speed. So how about a game of brawn instead? And with a sultry cackle, the Corten sprang at her with the playful intent to spar.

sorry i took so longgggggg im studying again
should we do dice rolls to determine hits and else? 

To Maera's delight, the female's response was inmediate. With her tongue also hanging from her mouth and her eyes sparkling with what Maera sensed to be amusement Ixchel dropped to mimic her stance. The flame's tail continued to wag wildly, preparing herself in case the other female conceded and bolted away like she had done before, but her own jagged breath revealing she too was done with the races. 

She refused to be chased and Maera let her smile grow more when Ixchel posed the idea of playing something else. Before the woman could spring towards her however Maera let an excited yip spill from her mouth. "im in" she reasurred even though it was pretty obvious that she was game for pretty much anything Ixchel would propose. Then, as the pale female launched herself towards her, the flame readied herself to reach her midair with an outstretched paw hoping to fall upon the female's shoulder in an attempt to wreck her balance.