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

---

her grip is true, though in a moment he manages to swing a heavy paw over her back. like a pebble beneath a paw, she slips free under the weight, sidestepping and yet remaining close. her grip is made loose, but not lost; understanding the predicament the male has put himself in, she moves to exploit the balance he'd sacrificed in attempt to pin the raven down. 

tightening her grip, she surges suddenly against him, in the direction of the paw he'd left on the ground. she is swift, and sure, and he falters beneath her grip. in a moment, she has born them both down toward the earth, hers a position slightly more favourable as she stands half-above him. 

rolled a success!