Cerulean Cape lullabies of the lost

She was quick - quicker than he by far, that much he could tell already. Attempting to outmaneuver her would likely be useless for the stockier male, so instead he needed to find a different approach.

As she swung in to attack his flank, instead of attempting to avoid the move, he leaned into it, a playful growl leaving his throat as he put his shoulder towards her move, hoping to block somewhat while his muzzle reached to grasp lightly at the thick fur of her ruff. He did not seek to come close to breaking skin, but even making contact was practice for moves that, in an aggressive spar, would lend themselves to injuries.