Moonspear blood & bone

The inkjet yearling was no match for her, not at his age or with his limited knowledge of spars. The dark young man had always admired those who were ready to bare their fangs and leap into the fray, casting all worries aside. Osiris was that way; a stalwart guardian of their terrain, ready to take on whoever might attempt to wrong them. Atlas feared that he would never live up to the greatness of his brother and that Hydra would see past the efforts that he made, into his true soul.
 
In there, he was nothing more than a coward.
 
Keeping himself guarded, the inkjet figure circled and did what he could to confuse her path. It was nonsensical, but he knew very little about losing someone who had every intention of sparring. The sunlight glow of his eyes danced along her dark features and he darted out of her reach and away from her sights, hoping this would spark a chase.