Redsand Canyon Voithó

The mercenary was pleased and surprised by the healer’s willingness to face their spar with brazen confidence. She did not pull from his bite. Aquene seemed to dive into it. Her own teeth aimed for the man’s limbs. Arsenio was also not afraid of bruises or scrapes that pertained to a fight. He was eager to see the capability behind her figure, the sharpness of her skill.

The redstone wolf continued his push. Their bodies met and her teeth found purchase in Arsenio’s flesh. He found that the sharp prick of pain was familiar. It was not something that he had felt in many months, and it had sparked the man’s fighting spirit. How fortunate that Aquene would fight against a demigod. She would learn so much.

Arsenio’s arms were raised. He pushed with his hind feet toward her – the mercenary’s forelimbs were raised and stretched to grip her in a hold. The Greek was not afraid of being so close. He wanted her to feel the force of his body. The man breathed heavy with the efforts, but his spirit was invigorated.