Cricket Creek Bog raises a number to a power of a specified number.

wc:253

She pursued the dark-furred yearling a few steps as he recoiled, and she could see the bweilderment in his features, likely caused by the sudden ferocity of her attack. She huffed, bristling and raising her tail as though to challenge him to make a move again, or accept the fact that he'd removed himself from her proximity as a means of expressing that he was done fighting. In her mind, this was a victory for her- and she'd had every right to put a bit more steam into the fight. If Figment was going to learn how to defend himself, he'd need some experience dealing with a wolf who actually hasd some intention of causing him harm.

Of course, it meant she was more or less bending the rules of a spar- but she hadn't drawn blood or caused him too much pain in doing so. She flicked her tongue over her bared teeth for a moment, before she calmed. “I know nobody likes it,” She said in a low voice, but she was calm when she took a moment to speak, having released some of her frustration in getting him to back away from her. “But you have to learn how to respond when someone does get dangerous with you,” She said. She blinked owlishly at him, and lowered her tail back down to a neutral stance, allowing the tip to wave a bit so that he might perceive the lull in tension. “Better against me than against someone you can't predict.”