Snowforest Taiga From a fortune of fisher king

if there's one thing that a warrior should never do in battle, it is to assume that they land every hit they send. shikoba knows this all too well, and although she feels pride swell in her heart with the ability to dodge, it does not stop the later repercussions of her actions. now, she's lost her footing and the man reaches for her.

teeth meet the flesh of her shoulder as vermillion blood flows into the man of tartok. yet the woman does not crumble beneath his weight. her throat only rumbles like reckless thunder as she does her best to support the weight of not just herself, but the man digging into her side. she finds herself grounded for a moment, but thankfully, with her heavier weight than most of her size and stature, she is able to push back against him in an attempt to find her footing.

she may not be able to have enough force to push his head off of her bleeding body, but shikoba has a full set of teeth that have sought blood many times. now it is her turn to reach and grab ahold of whatever may land in her mouth first, be it his muzzle or cheek or even his ear. perhaps shikoba's signature will be the maiming of ears, as a subtle thought of nuak crosses her mind. though, with the desire to clear her head, shikoba begins to thrash around with whatever she has grasped, hoping that she may tear something.

she may not understand the traditions of sivullik and the culture that the duck has enriched her with, but shikoba knows that the eyes of the village look upon her now. if she cannot defend her status, her village, then what kind of sivullik is she?