Redsand Canyon down and out over the mount

nice, and roll; left the last attack up to you wrt dodging since unless Colin moves he’s at least within reach

Down. Colin stumbled, side hitting sand, and she dove in. The face grab was a dominant move, one Finley didn’t necessarily have the right to perform, but in the midst of a spar that mattered to her little.

But Colin was faster, his teeth sinking into her forelimb; they twisted in tandem, Finley to shake him and Colin pulling down; neither succeeded. She growled, feigning frustration—then dove in again, snapping down over and around his head. Whether he released her leg or not didn’t matter; she aimed for the neck, far from the throat but close as she could reach to scruff and side, making no effort to back down. If this were a real fight the pain shooting up her limb would matter even less.