Snowforest Taiga From a fortune of fisher king

Things moved quickly, as battles often did.

Tulimaq had hoped there was more to the woman than girth, though she came to throw that weight around and slammed sharply in to him, sending him back a step and giving her an opening to reach for a leg.

He had become a touch too complacent during this spar; the woman's reach was not drastic, she was a squat creature, but because Tulimaq had drawn himself so close for a strike of his own, she could attack his legs, and was successful.

Teeth scraped at his forelimbs. He endured it, to his own detriment, and realized the mistake as soon as the blood began to flow. Nothing was broken except for the skin, but there was now a network of tears oozing blood in to the snow.

With a snarl Tulimaq threw himself in to the woman. He was injured but the cold of the season kept him grounded, and the pain that had begun to surface within these new wounds was held at bay by an influx of adrenaline. This would be his final push for victory over the sivullik — there had been too many wounds exchanged already for a simple spar, and if Tulimaq could now bowl the woman over in this final effort, he would disengage.