Neverwinter Forest miles outside of the eye of the storm

He clamped down somewhere in the mass of thick fur and muscle, and felt the tension increase dramatically. Winded once again, he tried to make good on not breaking the skin when he heard her rumble with approval. When she pulled away, he let her go and gathered himself, pacing away just as she had. Running his tongue against his teeth backward, the gold-eyed Ostrega used the downtime to spit some of the stray hairs that remained in his mouth. It was an awkward process for him, but nonetheless worked all the same.

It was the tension from the heat of the battle that remained in him though, and he also kept his gaze on her curiosity. An interesting spar or not, he didn't know if she was still about to spring an attack on him still, but that was more hyper-vigilance speaking than anything. “You're not so bad yourself,” he quipped with a crooked tilt of his head. If she was pleased with the fact that he could handle himself, he was equally pleased that she could as well. It was nice to know that her size boasted the truth in her ability.