Stavanger Bay we dwarves are natural sprinters

he had meant the fox, but seeing how dalia's eyes lit up at the prospect of sparring, velen found that literally ceased to matter. "show me what ya got, toots," the boy drawled, backing away some to allow her space for preparation. "i'm sure it goes without saying, but you don't need to hold back."
velen was here to be bludgeoned, shredded, anything in the service of dalia learning the best ways to spar. regarding her with a smirk of readiness, the stormrift creature steeled himself for the collision of her body. he had no idea why anticipation was welling within him like a serpent, but decided it was best not to question such things, and roll with them instead.