Ouroboros Spine In the fell clutch of circumstance

Tonravik was more than keen to play these games. Her goal was not to win the spars, although this more often than not was what happened; it was to keep Kroc on her feet... or else, sweep her off of them. But enemies were stupid, and made stupid moves; Tonravik herself would make both smart, and dimwitted moves, to serve as ever the realist in her role to refresh Kroc's memory. But ah, unfortunately, she could not play the part of a swift wolf; she tried to evade a heavy thwap and caught only a cuff instead of what could have been a heavy smack. Tonravik let out a rumble, "Claws," to remind the other that this was not for blood or wounds, but for practice. Of course, Tonravik knew their blunted claws could serve damage; she simply wanted Kroc to think of alternative ways, so that no accidents happened and blood was ever drawn. They did this to strengthen, but already, she knew Kroc understood this. Kroc was proving her worth every day; Tonravik noted it, was pleased by it. 

Tonravik herself kept close, moving again to draw the feet of Kroc out from under her. These sorts of moves would be go-to moves of any enemy; to unbalance was one of the first goals. She repeated the move, knowing sometimes, repetition could be unexpected. Tonravik wanted Kroc to expect anything; it was why she did it again. Tonravik did not know what Kroc was; she was testing her now, to find out, to feel her out. So far, so good.