Arrow Lake I don't know what I'm doing half the time

She didn't like being controlled, which he could've understood if he'd really paused to consider his behavior. Mesa being a rowdy young thing, he didn't let his brain get in the way of a good time - and so when the little soot sprite turned and faced him as if she could actually fight him, he felt a sense of elation. For a few seconds he'd forgotten all about the worries back home (a missing sibling, a deceased father, and living up to all the expectations of his blood); in this moment he was a warrior, a soldier, doing his duty.

The girl bared her teeth and lunged for him but she missed, her footwork obviously being a major issue. Mesa didn't think about how vastly superior his own training was by comparison; he would ruminate on that later as he stroked his swelling ego. When he saw an opening (in this case, the staggering little limbs of the girl) he took his chance and did what he had warned: bulldozed in to her and then made a grab for her tail.

In all his time on the earth, with all of his training, it had been hard but it had always been a game. Something about this particular exchange felt similar, but when he felt his teeth close upon the girl's blunt tail something shifted. He crunched down hard on the tail's end and felt the instinctive need to thrash his head.