Grouse Thicket Queen of Diamonds

Nico's jaws wrapped firmly around her back leg and perhaps, not so gently, pulled it out from beneath her, causing her to fall onto the ground, the grace she held previously gone. She toppled like dominos, and the moment she fell onto the ground, he stood above her, over her, tall, intimidating and stoic, not a trace of smugness or arrogance available on his harsh, chiseled features. The deWinter did not speak, but observed her on the ground with cool, unfathomable, apple green eyes before stepping away quietly when she seemed to acknowledge defeat, making sure she knew that as long as she did not attempt to fight dirty now that they both knew who won, he would not bother her with condescending words, but would leave her alone. He dipped his head politely, respectfully acknowledging her as a worthy opponent and was about to turn to go.

The wraith spoke then, saying that it had been a long time since one had bested her and praised him for his skill, before asking for his name. He stared at her for a moment, his expression betraying nothing before bowing slightly, "I suppose I should be honoured," he said with a shadow of a smile before shaking his head. "But I'm nothing extraordinary. This is all practice, with good wolves teaching me; anyone can achieve this if they set their mind to it." He shrugged, smiling humbly. "Besides, you're skill is great too. You could've bested me," Nico said honestly. He was by no means an arrogant fool, he'd learnt in his soldering days that if you practiced enough, you could achieve pretty much anything...reasonable, and everything he'd achieved so far, he'd done so thanks to his superiors and fellow soldiers. He felt that really, everything he had he owed to his dead friends and former trainers.

"Nicolas is the name," Nico said, before cocking his head, "what about you?"