Redsand Canyon In the belly of the beast

War wasn’t one to engulf in emotions, but if she did, she had a soft spot for Nyra. Nyra got her, understood her. Never questioned her in a way that was confusing to War, something she had experienced a little too often. Nyra just answered straight forward the way she liked it. She answered her questions truthfully and without hesitation. War nodded in respond ”Good.” They needed body-abled people around them, people who they could rely on to fight in the upcoming wars. For there will be war. Always.

"No, War,  I'm not mad with you." War copied the tail wag the best she could, though she had not done so in years. She nodded and all was forgotten. The bite and the sudden anger from Nyra were in the past now, no reason to dwell on it further. She said she wasn’t mad, and War had no reason to doubt her. War didn’t consider she might lie or hide her emotions; emotional schemes were completely lost on her. She could have lied, and War would have no idea.

"This is Xicor." She was introduced. War turned to the male, not likely going to recall that name later, it was – odd. ”War.” She wasn’t the talkative type and she might have added more if she had been. She had introduced herself now. "Yes, I can fight, as well as her,"

”I doubt that.” it was an instinctive respond out of loyalty. Nyra was born a fighter, yes, but also trained in the arts of fighting for years. Somehow War didn’t see that as possible that some stranger would outmatch Nyra. She didn’t try to insult him or have any tone that indicated as such. She just said it out loud as if came straight from her head. She looked at him with searching eyes.

”Nyra is. Strong.” Nyra was indeed strong, and it was for that War admired her. It would be hard to take that away due to some strangers thinking ahead of themselves. Even if they had spared and she had lost or been matched, that was simply the nature of a fight. Didn’t mean much. You lost, you won, you trained to better yourself for the war coming where you would have to win in order to live. Spars were the measurement of true worth.

”Spar.” It was a statement, almost commanding though she had no authority to do so. It was a challenge to test him. She took some steps backward and took a stance in the gliding sand, she had her eyes on him watching him. Should he refuse, she would feel a certain disappointment. Should he accept, she would let him move first.