Redsand Canyon cast the stones that I'll gladly catch

A dark wolf approached the arena. He looked to be older than Glaukos, perhaps closer to Towhee or Germanicus in age, and vaguely resembled the Praefectus with the shrewd look upon his face. When the wolf spoke it was to offer a spar; Glaukos was amused by this, and a little put-off.

A spar thing. He rumbled in reply. Glaukos expected any family of Towhee to be equally as strong, or as well versed in the rites of a warrior, and was less than impressed with what he saw of Phox. He looked weathered in the way Germanicus was grizzled and old, except with a thinner physique that could have hinted at a speedy, skilled tactician. Then again, looks could be decieving.

I will spar with you. He finally decided, and entered the ring. The boy moved to the center of the circular arena and turned to face Phox, wondering what this man was capable of.

First to be pinned, loses. Do not draw blood if you can help it. Do not hold back. It felt important to convey these rules, as Phox did not strike Glaukos as a wolf of great prowess when it came to combat.