Redsand Canyon they broke the wrong parts of me

donovan might’ve been bigger than her, though his wolfdog heritage left praimfaya to question whether he was stronger ( at least bite force wise ), but she was a master warrior trained from the moment she could walk steadily on her paws to kill. blodreina’d been grooming a commander of death and a commander of death was what praimfaya became. a draconian valkyrie wrapped up in a pretty ( debatable ) silverlit package. donovan goes down and yields. praimfaya releases her grip upon him, panting as the adrenaline wanes and allows herself the rest now that their spar is over.

she hopes she is proving to the wolves of the saints that she is a force of nature. nemisis almost killing her had been a fluke, a slip of her fury and rage — despite that surely, she’d done the same amount of damage to the feral woman. she would not repeat the mistake. the sting of being denied jus drein, jus daun smarts as she looks down at donovan. it was an opportune time to strike: when he’s down, when he thinks this is just a game. just a spar.

for a moment, praimfaya considers it.

but no. not yet. she isn’t ready and has no backup if she should fail.

it was a good spar. she grins; even though she’d walloped him. still. she’d enjoyed it nonetheless.