Hideaway Strath a catastrophe of ingredients

Jhala. The name does not strike the young winter’s bane with any sort of familiarity, but he does not expect it to. He spends a moment lingering upon her name, repeating it in his mind though he is not sure he would be able to attempt to speak it. It sounds so …exotic to him, unaware that his own name in it’s fullness may sound exotic to others. Her name is temporarily forgotten — as is the fact that he is skipping out on lessons — when she agrees to wrestle with him. Roarke begins to prance in place, tail wagging so hard that he nearly knocks himself off balance, rolling his weight to the opposite side at the last second to keep from tumbling to the ground. She drops into a play bow and his tail stills as he assess her. She has the very distinct advantage of being much larger than him but he far from bothered by such odds. Everything could be felled — and Roarke was discovering through trial and error that it all depended on his opponents weakness and his willingness to exploit it. He tries not to be analytical, though, because this is for fun! “Raaaaahhh!” He lets out his characteristic roar of a battle cry and rushes at her jaws agape as he aims to shoot past her and attack one of her exposed back legs.