Bearclaw Valley you wouldn't make it

He came closer. Ikkalrok was not put off; she swaggered toward him, head high and chin draped over her throat. Indeed, she wanted to spar; see who, between them, was the superior in physical combat. There were several things Ikkalrok did not account for, but she had never been bright... especially when fatigued. She and Revui had been up for several hours, and slept the bare minimum. Her judgment and her feelings alike were clouded by the residual rosebud hue that shrouded her lens, but for the moment she mistook it for red.

Physical contact was something she desired, but Ikkalrok did not attribute it to lust as she bridged the gap between them with an open-mouthed snarl, teeth seeking purchase anywhere they might find not to shed blood but simply to grip before she might shove down to dominate with the whole of her weight. She sought to swing around him, all the while; Ikkalrok was determined to come out of this on top, though another unbidden image came to mind at the thought of contact.