Duskfire Glacier Piusik

The pale fighter yelped and withdrew with a dazed expression.

Issorartuyok stepped toward her, careful to inspect her figure for any signs of damage that was not immediately known. His bloodied lip dripped into the snow on the ground. He swept his tongue across it again, hoping that he would not bloody her coat. When she spoke, it was to suggest that he might have gone easier on her, or perhaps to tease at as much.

The northerner smiled softly and shook his head.

If I were to let you win, you would feel strong and sure. It would not do you good. When you do win, when you are the victorious protector, it will feel much better. The large man nudged at her shoulder with his nose.

Your fangs are sharp and you are a swift learner.