Haunted Wood tree top, my bra

Her yelp was sweet as he made contact with her neck, bitting in hard to latch on as eyes burned with a furious fire for the fight. His shoulder burned with the wound that dug into it but he was certain that victory would be his soon. She was tiring, he could tell, they were in the final stretch for their little spar until - she got his leg again.

He let go of his grip from her neck, deciding that this spar was over. She was either desperate for a win or had much more in the tank left than he thought. Enough, you win, I concede. But a victory over a spar was not important enough to him to risk more injuries for. Perhaps if this was a rank challenge or something of more importance he would not quit, but for now, he would step away.