Ravensblood Forest Wer um die Göttin freit, suche in ihr nicht das Weib

a quick nip to her scruff, and they've begun. the wraith does not allow him time to recover; to waste a beat would only allow him to steady himself against the rebuttal. swiftness, she had learned, was crucial. her next move is a bold one, slipping low toward him and then striking upward, seating to grasp hold of the soft hollow of his throat, the underside of his chin. there is a rythm to a good spar she seeks to fall into, while at the same time testing the male with moves she may not usually use should purely victory have been her goal.